“Certainly—come in,” sprung over the small pit in which his treasure was hidden. Then, knowing such a procedure would attract attention, he stepped aside. The men filed quickly in, leaving their horses outside unwatched, and stood blinking in the double twilight inside.
“Christina—Kissie!” cried Mr. Wheeler. “My child, where are you?”
There was silence for a moment. Pedro expected to see Kissie glide gladly from the inner chamber into her father’s arms; but she did not appear.
“Strange,” he thought. “Is it possible she is sleeping?”
“Well—where is she?” impatiently demanded Carpenter.
“She is in the inner apartment; I was thinking she would come at the sound of her father’s voice.”
“Where is the inner apartment? lead us there!” clamored the men. Pedro, leaving his treasure, reluctantly stalked toward the narrow passage. They followed eagerly, pressing close upon him. He slipped through and found the torch was extinguished.
“Ha!” he ejaculated.
“What’s up?” whispered Simpson, in his ear. “Curse this black hole—it’s dark as a pocket!”
“Where is she? now you have brought us here, where is she? Strike a light! a light! Kissie—Kissie!” cried Mr. Wheeler. They listened. No answering voice sounded, no sound was heard; deathlike stillness, and damp, thick air brooded round.