It was not a long nor a hard fall, and, as he felt himself once more on a solid foundation, and looked up toward the sky, he saw he had not fallen more than twenty or twenty-five feet. What had really happened was that the roof of the cell, cracked by the explosion, had caved in with Adrian’s weight,
and he was in the very place he was wishing he was, although the condition of the cell had materially changed since Donald had looked down into it less than twenty minutes before.
Before the explosion, the cell had been a room some thirty feet square and twenty or more feet high. Now it was half filled with dirt and pieces of rock, the door which had guarded its entrance had been crushed, and through the opening Adrian caught a glimpse of the front entrance to the cave and the water beyond.
But there was no sign of Billie or the smugglers.
Pulling himself together and grasping his Marlin firmly, so as to be ready for any emergency, Adrian stepped cautiously toward the broken door. Hiding himself as well as he could behind the shattered casemate, he peered out into the cave.
The room was empty and at first there appeared no way in which the smugglers could have left except by the river, seeing which Adrian breathed easier.
“They must have gone out like the others,” he thought, “and have been captured by the rurales.”
Having arrived at this decision, he walked boldly out toward the river entrance.
But he had not advanced ten paces into the main cave before a noose fell silently over his shoulders, and he felt himself jerked violently backward.
The very act, however, caused him to tighten his