Mark lit one of the lamps which hung from the ceiling of the cave and then went forward to make sure that everything was ready for the proposed hazing. The little room in which the bones of the trapped counterfeiters lay was up at the far end of the place. There was a heavy wall of masonry to shut it off, with only one entrance, that afforded by the heavy iron door, which was built like that of a safe. Mark entered the room and after fumbling about some came out and nodded to his companions. He did not say a word; none of them had since they had come in; but there was still that firm, set look about his mouth that boded ill for those four cowardly yearlings.
It is difficult for one to imagine the state of mind of these latter. Their rage and vexation at the failure of their scheme, at the way they had been trapped, had long since given place to one of constantly increasing dread as they felt themselves carried further and further away, evidently to the lonely mountain cave from which Bull had stolen the treasure a couple of days ago. They were in the hands of their deadliest enemies; Bull knew that they had earned no mercy from Mark, and he knew also that the wild Texan was along, the Texan to whom, as they thought, murder was an everyday affair. That dousing, too, had done its work, for it had chilled them to the bone, and made them shiver in mind as well as in body. The yearlings felt themselves carried a short way on; they felt some one test the ropes that bound them, tighten every knot, and then finally bind them to what seemed to be a series of rings in a rough stone wall. They heard a low voice whisper:
“They’re safe there. They can’t get near each other.”
And then one by one the bandages were taken from their eyes and the gags out of their tortured mouths.
They saw nothing but the blackest of darkness. Absolutely the place was so utterly without a trace of light that the figure which stood in front to untie the gag was as invisible as if it were a spirit. Bull heard a step across the floor. But even that ceased a few moments later, and the place grew silent as the grave.
The yearlings, though their tongues were free, did not dare to whisper a word. They were too much awed in the darkness. They knew that something was coming, and they waited in suspense and dread.
It came. Suddenly the air was split by a sound that was perfectly deafening in the stillness. It was the clang of a heavy iron door, close at hand. The yearlings started in alarm, and then stood waiting and trembling. They knew then where they were, and what door that was. There was an instant’s silence and then a horrified shout.
“Great Heavens! The door has slammed!”
The cadets recognized that voice; it was the mighty one of Texas, but it sounded faint and dull, as if it had passed through a heavy wall. It was succeeded by a perfect babel of voices, all of which sounded likewise. And the meaning of the voices, when once the cadets realized it, chilled the very marrow of their bones.
“Open it! Open it, quick!”