n the pool there came a sudden rumble of thunder to his
ears. He listened, and by the sounds became convinced that an opening
into the outer air could not be a great way off. Then came an unexpected
flash of reflected light on the rocks by his side.

"Hurrah, that light came from outside!" he cried. "I'm not buried alive,
after all. But I may be a good way from daylight yet."

He had some matches in his box, and lighting one of these he discovered
a passageway below him, running off to his left. Further on he picked up
a bit of dry wood and lit this. It made rather a poor torch, but proved
better than nothing.

"Now to get out, and then to find my way back to where I left old
Benson," was his mental resolve.

With extreme caution he stole forward to where the lightning revealed a
distant opening. He did not leave one foothold until he was sure of the
next, for he had no desire to experiment with another moving rock.

The thunder now reached his ears plainly, and the lightning at times
made the front of the cave as bright as day.

"It's quite another place," was his thought. "That dangerous passage
connects the two."

Suddenly, as Joe was advancing, he heard a clatter of horses' hoofs, and
into the cave ahead rode three rough-looking men, all armed with rifles
and pistols and each carrying small saddle-bags across his steed.

At first Joe thought to call out to the newcomers, but he checked
himself, for their appearance was decidedly against them.

"I'll try to find out something about them first," he muttered. "Perhaps
they belong to that gang of bad men Benson was telling us about
yesterday." And then, as the three came to a halt in the center of the
outer cave and dismounted, he crept closer, in the shadow of some sharp
rocks, to overhear what they might have to say.

CHAPTER III.

AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION.

"Who ever saw such a downpour before?" growled one of the three men, as
he switched the water from his soft felt hat. "I'm wet to the skin."

"I'm no better off," replied one of the others. "I think we were fools
to leave Macklin's place, Gilroy."

"Just what I think, Fetter," said the third man. "We could have waited
as well as not."

"Yes, we could have waited, Potts," answered Matt Gilroy; "but, to tell
the truth, I don't want to trust Macklin too far. He might play us
foul."

"He wouldn't dare to do that," returned Gus Fetter.

"Why not--if he thought he would get a reward?" came