at an arched aperture, and they crept into it on their hands
and knees, and went ahead a dozen yards, then paused.

They were on the brink of another chasm.

A rift split the passage in two crosswise.

It looked as if some convulsion of nature had ripped the earth apart,
and they crept back to the main cavern and tried another opening.

It was possible to stand upright in this place.

The passage wound and zigzagged.

Following it for some distance, they suddenly caught view of a lurid
glare ahead as they turned an abrupt bend, and halted.

"Put out your light," whispered Old King Brady, in warning tones.

"See them?" asked the boy, complying.

"No, but they must have kindled that fire."

"Advance carefully now."

They got down on their hands and knees again, and went on to the spot
where the passage opened into a smaller cave.

Here the sight was prettier.

The floor, walls and ceiling were a delicate shade of pink, and the
icicles formed many fantastic shapes that sparkled in the firelight.

Pausing, the detectives now saw that the place was about fifty feet in
diameter, with a vaulted roof, through a hole in which the smoke from a
big log fire was pouring upward.

Upon the floor there were some skins of animals, benches, boxes, dishes
and other articles used for cooking and comfort.

Two men were lying upon the ground smoking pipes before the big fire,
and as the lights glowed upon their faces, the detectives observed that
they were Roland Mason and Sim Johnson.

Both were conversing.

"Sim," the white man was saying, "are you quite sure the detectives
have got Nick locked up in jail?"

"Dat's whut I heered dis mornin' in de town, Massa Ronald," replied the
negro, in serious tones.

"He may give us away, Sim."

"If he do, Ise gwine ter gib it to him."

"You won't have the chance if he's locked up."

They both laughed heartily at this grim remark.

When Sim's mirth abated, he said thoughtfully:

"Peahs ter me, if dem yere 'tectives wuz a-gwine ter pump any news
outen dat coon, dey would hab done it las' night, an' come right heah
aftah us, sah."

"Their absence is all that relieves my mind, Sim. I quite agree with
your idea. Still, Nick may weaken later on, and make a clean breast of
it."

"Hab we got ter stay heah much longer?"

"No. Old Dalton is losing his nerve."

"Gwine ter sign dat check?"

"Yes. He hasn't had anything to eat for three days, and his spirit is
broken entir