There was no way of telling the dimensions of the room or cave in which I had been deserted by my mysterious captors. Utter darkness enveloped me like a heavy blanket. After several minutes of futile crawling around, I realized that I must be in the middle of some tremendous room, and that it was a waste of time trying to find a wall or outlet. My captors evidently knew that this Stygian blackness would effectually bar my escape, even if there were a way out, and that was undoubtedly the reason I was unbound. Nothing I could do would help in any way, so I might just as well await developments calmly. I stretched myself full length on the stone floor and tried to puzzle out the reason for my terrible predicament.
That I had been kidnapped by bandits and removed to some cavern to await the payment of ransom seemed the most plausible solution. I wondered if they had seized Olin Gilfillan also. If so, why were we not together? Thinking he might be somewhere nearby, I shouted his name aloud. Only the hollow, booming echo of my own voice, sounding with eerie mockery from round about, answered me. I listened intently. Silence, a great, brooding silence, intensified by the darkness, by the magnitude of the cavern, and by my own breathing. I no longer heard the droning sound that I had noticed when I first regained my senses, so it must either have been my imagination or the effects of the drug I had been forced to inhale. Undoubtedly I was entirely alone in the darkness. And if I were being held for ransom, it would, be only a question of time before my captors brought me something to eat and drink.
Then there was the matter of the rock camouflage. The outlaws had probably hidden one of their number beneath it as a measure of precaution in case their plans miscarried. But what an elaborate precaution, when there were so many other simpler, and equally effective, methods of concealment. And they put it in a position where it would be bound to attract attention and investigation. Even putting it behind a sotol plant would be better than having it in the open. Could it have concealed the entrance to the cave I was now in? Then, why hadn’t Olin or I noticed the spot when we made camp? Perhaps the bandits had covered the place cleverly, using the false rock only as a screen for exit and entrance. That might explain the sinking sensation I noticed just before the drug put me to sleep—I was probably lowered into the ground at this point. I well knew that there were countless caves in this southeastern part of New Mexico. The mighty Carlsbad Cavern itself has a great number of branching chambers that have never been explored. What could be more perfect for the purpose of kidnapping for ransom than a well-concealed entrance to an unknown cavern in this rugged, little-traveled country? In many places near the Carlsbad Cavern the roof has fallen in, leaving deep depressions in the ground; in fact, the natural entrance to this cavern is in one of such depressions. The more I thought this over, the more I became convinced that my captors had cunningly concealed a comparatively small entrance to their own private cave, and that we, unfortunately happening to camp close by, provided easy prey for their first attempt.
HOW they could have made the place look like ordinary flat ground, with no footprints or other signs of disturbance anywhere, puzzled me greatly. Several of them had come out and had seized me from behind, but how had they covered their tracks, and where had they hidden that I did not see them as I gazed around? They must have come from some distance off, and been lightning quick to get me as they did. And having captured me so neatly and noiselessly, why was I now left alone with my thoughts, free to blunder around and break my neck in the darkness? They evidently thought to cow me, so that I would prove tractable, using the terror that comes from darkness and solitude as their trump card. I resolved that, come what might, I would never let them believe that I felt the slightest fear. And I further resolved that once I was free, I would leave no stone unturned to seek out this rendezvous and capture the whole gang, if it took half the United States army. Why I have not done this will be made evident as I continue.
Just as I had thoroughly determined to make bravery my one inflexible gesture, no matter what they did to me, I became aware of a presence approaching. It was only the faintest sort of rustling sound, as though someone in a flapping kimono and sandals were walking toward me. That someone, or something, was coming toward me in absolute darkness, apparently moving at a steady pace in spite of that fact, made my bravery dissolve into thin air. After all, what is fear? We can steel ourselves to meet known dangers philosophically, or even unknown ones if they are not totally unexpected; but when we are suddenly confronted with the unknown, with all its potentialities of horror aggravated by the awful cloak of inky darkness, or any equally terrifying circumstance, we become as frightened children. It is only natural. As the rustling sound grew louder, I involuntarily uttered a stifled, sobbing moan, and sought to crawl away in the opposite direction. I found that I could not move. I was paralyzed with a blind, unreasoning, sickening fear. I felt faint with nausea, and my teeth clicked together, as though I were perishing with cold. I have said before that I have no “nerves” and that ordinary perils have never ovecome me; but this was no ordinary situation, and what I had already been through paved the way to this climax of complete terror. I felt that death, sudden and painless, would be the most welcome thing that could happen.
Whatever it was, stopped near me and I could hear it breathing faintly. I tried desperately to control the clacking of my teeth and the trembling of my limbs. I cursed myself for having called Olin, for the noise, no doubt, had attracted the creature’s attention. As I could see nothing, not even the faintest indication of glowing eyes, my terror-stricken mind finally grasped the fact that no beast was near me; it was probably only one of my captors. Yet, how had he found his way to me, and where had he come from. My terror died away as quickly as it had come, leaving me still trembling and faint, but with my mind alert for what might follow, no matter how strange.
A RUSTLING sound close to my head and something touched me on the shoulder. It was a hand, bony, long-fingered, powerful, that seized my shoulder and pulled me up to a sitting position.
“Drink!” said a voice close to my ear. “Put your hands before your face, and take the bowl that is offered you.” The voice had a peculiar rasping quality, as if the speaker were having difficulty in controlling his tongue, and the pronunciation of the words was done in a sort of guttural drawl.