two children--a
girl, and a boy who was not only younger than she, but devoted to
horseback riding.

Only one duty devolved upon the girl thus strangely reared, and that
was the keeping watch for certain vessels that came in from the great
lake and sailed away again at regular intervals.

So Mary Darrell was out riding on the evening that witnessed the
capture of Richard Peveril by his bitterest enemies, and as twilight
deepened into dusk she was urging her way homeward with all speed.

In the meantime the three rascal car-pushers, who had come so
unexpectedly upon him whom they sought, and had so easily effected his
capture, led Peveril directly away from the trail he had been
following to a place in the woods known only to Rothsky. Close to
where they finally halted and began preparations for the punishment of
the prisoner, who was also expected to afford them infinite amusement
by his sufferings, yawned a great black hole. It was of unknown depth,
and was nearly concealed by a tangle of vines and bushes. Rothsky had
stumbled upon it by accident only a few days before, and now conceived
that it would be a good place in which to dispose of a body, in case
they should happen to have one on their hands.

Trusting to the wildness of their surroundings and the absence of
human beings from that region to shield them from observation, they
ventured to build a fire, by the light of which they proposed to carry
out their devilish plans.

Besides binding Peveril's arms, they had, on reaching this place,
taken the further precaution of tying his ankles, so that he now lay
on the ground utterly helpless, a prey to bitter thoughts, but nerving
himself to bear bravely whatever torture might await him.

All at once the deep baying of a hound and a crash of galloping
hoofs, coming directly towards the fire-light, sounded through the
wood.

With a fierce imprecation Rothsky gave a hasty order, at which all
three men sprang to where Peveril was lying in deepest shadow.
Hurriedly picking him up, they carried him a short distance, gave a
mighty swing, and flung him from them. There was a crash of parted
bushes and rending vines, a stifled cry, and all was still.

A minute later, when a boyish figure on horseback swept past the fire,
the three men seated by it only aroused a fleeting curiosity in Mary
Darrell's mind as to what they could be doing in such a place at such
a time.

CHAPTER XVI

LOST IN A PREHISTORIC MINE