The view revealed
included a large portion of the valley, and the entrance to the other
cabin. There was no excitement, no evidence of any alarm--their
crossing from the mouth of the cave had escaped observation. Thus far
at least they were safe.
Her heart beat faster as she turned away, satisfied with the success of
her plan. Nothing remained now but to secure Mendez, to make it
impossible for him to raise an alarm. If he could be bound, and locked
into that rear room. She looked at the two men--the Mexican had
slouched down into a chair, apparently having abandoned all hope of
escape, his chin lowered on his breast, his eyes hidden beneath the
wide brim of his hat. He was a perfect picture of depression, but
Cavendish appeared alert enough, the deadly knife still gripped in his
hand, a motionless, threatening figure. Feeling no trepidation, she
crossed toward the other room, noting as she passed that Mendez lifted
his head to observe her movements. She paused at the door, turning
suspiciously, but the man had already seemingly lost interest, and his
head again drooped.
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