By this time the boss had leaped off his horse and had tied it to a near-by bush. He turned back to the girls and Carlitos. “Move along. Pronto!” he ordered, gesturing up to a narrow path cut into the steep mountain side.
Jo Ann intuitively realized that this path led to the mine. A feeling of terror swept over her again. This must be the end! He was taking them up to the mine to make away with them there so no one would know what had become of them. That was why he was hurrying them so fast—so he’d get rid of them before it was daylight and the men came to work. What would he do with them? If he left them bound as he had the peon in the cave, some of the workmen would be sure to find them.
A sudden thought flashed into her mind that left her panic-stricken. In nearly all mines, she’d heard, there were old, deep unused shafts. Was it possible that he was going to leave them in one of those old shafts? If he did, no one in the world would ever find a trace of them. She must fight to the very last. There must be something she could do. Dr. Blackwell—where was he? He had said he would get here ahead of them. He might be down there in the valley waiting for them this very minute, she told herself.
By this time they had reached a spot in the path directly above the house. “One could almost throw a stone down into the patio of that house from here,” she thought. “If I could only attract the attention of someone down there. He seems to be trying so hard to get us up here without anyone’s seeing us.”
A daring plan darted into her mind. She’d risk the boss’s anger. No matter what he did, it could not be as bad as what awaited them at the mine. The next instant she began to put this plan into action.
She stumbled and with a piercing shriek fell prostrate, pushing several large stones over the edge of the trail. As they rolled down the mountain side, loosening other stones on their way, they made a terrific crashing noise.
“Oh, my foot! My foot!” she groaned, grabbing her ankle.
Florence was at her side the next moment. “Oh, Jo Ann! Are you hurt badly?”
Before Jo Ann could answer, the boss was standing over her, shaking his quirt threateningly. “What you mean? You make too much noise. Move on—pronto.”
Jo Ann shook her head, crying again, “My foot!”