In her heart there grew a constant prayer for deliverance from their clutches.
She was much too strong-minded and healthy to pray for death, but her mind fairly reeled with the thoughts of the vengeance she would exact.
The third day found the gang morose and ugly.

The confinement was as irksome to them as it was to her.

They fretted and worried, swore and growled.

At nightfall of each day Sam ventured forth through the passage and out into the night.

Each time he was gone for two or three hours, and each succeeding return to the vile cave threw the gang into deeper wrath.