CHAPTER IV.
THE ROSARIO VIEJO.
To be suddenly pitched head-foremost down a rocky declivity into a mass of prickly pear bushes and other tropical brambles is by no means pleasant; and as a result Billie was not in the best of humor when he picked himself up and looked to the top of the 60-foot embankment down which he had slid.
"It's a wonder they wouldn't hang out a red light when they dig a hole like this," he declared angrily, "and not let a fellow most break his neck, to say nothing of scratching his eyes out! This is worse than a subway cave-in."
He pulled himself together and surveyed his surroundings.
The basin looked very much like an old quarry—so old that the shrubbery on the sides had grown into good-sized trees, and the whole place was covered with herbage of one sort or another. In one corner of the excavation, which must have covered some two acres, there was the ruin of an adobe house, while near the center was a stone structure made of four stone pillars about twenty feet apart and roofed over with two huge stone slabs, set so as to form a gable roof. Except for its size, it had the appearance of the old-fashioned well houses, which were once so common in New England.
"It's a tough-looking place, whatever it is," was Billie's comment. "I wish the fellows were here."
And then for the first time in more than half an hour Billie bethought him of his companions. His strange experience with the ape had driven all other thoughts out of his mind.
"By George!" he exclaimed aloud, "I wonder how the fight with the bandits came out?"