be no nearer liberty than in his
present position.

The smoke from the torch was filling the place and making the air foul.

"We'll smother in a little while!" thought the Mexican. "It's a wonder
we have not smothered already."

Again he kicked his companion and called for him to rise.

Ridgeway lifted his head and stared with terrible eyes at his comrade in
misery.

"Did you have a mother?" he asked.

"Of course I did!"

"Did you promise her you would be good?"

Del Norte swore in Spanish.

"I'll not stay here a minute longer!" he declared. "If you stay, you'll
remain in the dark."

"Hold on!" commanded Ridgeway, lifting himself on one hand and
stretching the other out to the Mexican. "Don't you dare leave me!
You're the man who brought this on me! Some one fired a bullet through
your head, but it did not kill you. I wish it had! You thought you bore
a charmed life; you thought nothing could kill you. Lead failed to do
it, but God sent the landslide, and you are as good as dead. Ha! ha!
ha!"

Del Norte started away.

"Stand where you are!" yelled Ridgeway, leaping up with amazing
quickness. "You were not killed by the bullet, and now, for all of the
landslide, you still live. You're a fiend, and you ought to die! I am
commanded to kill you! I must do it!"

The Mexican did not dare turn his back on the raving man. Again he
started away, but this time he moved backward, keeping his eyes on
Ridgeway, who came creeping after him, crouching a little and seeming
ready to spring.

Suddenly Ridgeway leaped. His arms shot out and his fingers closed on
Del Norte's neck.

"I must kill you!" he yelled. "I am the one chosen to do it! Your time
has come!"

The torch fell to the floor and lay there, spluttering and flaring. By
this dim and flickering light a fearful struggle took place.

Ridgeway had obtained a powerful clasp on Del Norte's throat, and the
Mexican could not hurl him off. They staggered against the wall, which
seemed to fling them off. They swayed from side to side, once staggering
over the spot where the torch lay.

Then the Mexican succeeded at last in drawing something from his bosom.
It flashed brightly in the dim torchlight as he struck with it. There
was the impact of a muffled blow, and Ridgeway gave a great start,
seeming to grow suddenly straight and tall.

Again the Mexican struck, but now, instead of growing straighter, the
other man seemed suddenly to collapse. His breath escaped