“Meet me there to-morrow evening. Don’t fail. Go.”
The prisoners moved along the dark passage, wondering who their strange deliverer could be. At the mouth of the cavern they found the wary sentinel sound asleep, and passing him, they plunged out into the free air of heaven.
Strange waited until they had had time to make their escape, then he turned and moved back to the door of the Dead Fall. He saw that it was fastened, then he placed his finger into the niche and tore out the spring that unlocked it. His work for the night was accomplished. The door to the Dead Fall could never be opened until it was battered down with sledges, and, consequently, the robbers would never know but that the prisoners were still in there.
Softly Solomon Strange stole back into the robber-captain’s room, and having put out the lantern, he stretched himself upon the carpeted floor and soon fell asleep.
When he awoke it was daylight, though no ray of sunshine ever shone in the cavern. Lamps furnished the only light there. Dungarvon had slept off the effect of his night’s carouse, and when his guest awoke he found him seated by the table reading a paper that one of his spies had brought in from Cheyenne City during the night.
Breakfast was brought in to the captain and his guest, the other robbers dining in the Cloister of the Ghouls.
After their morning repast was over, the false Black Bear took his departure for the Indian encampment, having expressed a hope that when he came back to the ranch he would have Silvia Sanford to hand over to the robber-captain.
Briskly through the forest and over the stony hills went the mysterious Solomon Strange.
Keeping to the right of the Indian encampment he struck the little glade wherein, but two nights ago, he had slain the renegade chief, Blufe Brandon, and entered a small cavern near at hand.
Ten minutes passed by, then he appeared again. But he was not in the disguise of the Black Bear. He wore his own ragged garments and carried his heavy, knotted club. For a moment he stood and gazed around him, then he strode away toward the west, his long yellow hair and whiskers streaming in the wind.