Perhaps not a dozen men outside this gang of outlaws had ever gazed down into its green depths, and possibly no others knew of that narrow, winding trail leading down to its level.

Yet these men must have made use of it for years, as a place to hide stolen cattle, and into which to retreat whenever pursuit became dangerous.
Those huts without were not newly built, and this underground cavern had been extended and changed by no small labour.

What deeds of violence must have happened here; what scenes of unbridled debauchery this desert rendezvous must have witnessed.

She shuddered at the thought, comprehending that these cells had never been chiselled without a purpose, and that she was utterly helpless in the hands of a band of thieves and cutthroats, to whom murder meant little enough, if it only served their ends.

Mendez, no doubt, was brute and monster, yet it was Juan Cateras whom she really feared--he was cruel, slimy, seeking to hide his hatefulness behind that hideous smile; and he had already chosen her for his victim.