The strange subterranean beauty of the surroundings, the
limestone wall and arches, scintillating wherever they caught the
light; the shadowy, mysterious vaulted roof; the white stalactites that
hung down thence to touch the stalagmites as they rose up from the
floor, and formed with them endless vistas of stately colonnades, all
were oddly incongruous with the drunken, bloated faces of the
distillers. Rick could not have put his thought into words, but it
seemed to him that when men had degraded themselves like this, even
inanimate nature is something higher and nobler. "Sermons in stones"
were not far to seek.

He observed that they were making preparations for flight, and once more
the fear of what they would do with him clutched at his heart. He was
something of a problem to them.

"This hyar cub will go blab," was the first suggestion.

"He will keep mum," said the vocalist, glancing at the boy with a
jovially tipsy combination of leer and wink. "Hyar is the persuader!" He
rapped sharply on the muzzle of his pistol. "This'll scotch his wheel."

"Hold yer own jaw, ye drunken 'possum!" retorted another of the group.
"Ef ye fire off that pistol in hyar, we'll hev all these hyar rocks"--he
pointed at the walls and the long colonnades--"answerin' back an'
yelpin' like a pack o' hounds on a hot scent. Ef thar air folks outside,
the noise would fotch 'em down on us fur true!"

Rick breathed more freely. The rocks would speak up for him! He could
not be harmed with all these tell-tale witnesses at hand. So silent now,
but with a latent voice strong enough for the dread of it to save his
life!

The man who had put out the fire, who had led the reconnoitring party,
who had made all the active preparations for departure, who seemed, in
short, to be an executive committee of one,--a long, lazy-looking
mountaineer, with a decision of action in startling contrast to his
whole aspect,--now took this matter in hand.

"Nothin' easier," he said tersely. "Fill him up. Make him ez drunk ez a
fraish b'iled ow_el_. Then lead him to the t'other eend o' the cave,
an' blindfold him, an' lug him off five mile in the woods, an' leave him
thar. He'll never know what he hev seen nor done."

"That's the dinctum!" cried the red-bearded man, in delighted approval,
breaking into a wild, hiccupping laugh, inexpressibly odious to the boy.
Rick had an extreme loathing for them all that showed itself with
impolitic frankness upon his face. H