They were standing near the entrance, when there came a distinct low moan from the interior. It was not a ghostly sound, either. There was no mistaking it.
"Did you hear that, Cales?" asked old Pete in a quavering voice.
"Yes," replied Cales, "I heard it all right. It can't be the Senor?"
"No," replied Pete. "He has been dead these years."
"Let's find out," said his comrade.
"There's nothing in this world could make me go in thar," declared Pete solemnly, "besides, it's agin the Captain's orders."
"Well, I'm going," said Cales either more brave or less experienced than the other. "It sounds to me like a woman's voice."
"And I'm goin' to git," declared old Pete, tottering towards the path.
"You're a brave old pirate," said Cales contemptuously, and with that he went slowly back into the cave. He had to go cautiously, for beyond a certain point he was not acquainted with the interior. He could feel the moist ground under foot and he kept his hand stretched out, not knowing what he might run against in the dense damp darkness.
Then, suddenly, his hand struck a stone wall. Groping his way, he turned a sharp corner and followed along a low narrow passageway that obliged him to stoop. Then came the sound of the moaning just ahead. Jack Cales was a brave man but it was all that he could do, to keep from turning and running in panic for the mouth of the cave. But though his determination had received a severe shock, it did not turn to flight.