darkness, he took pains that no telltale sign should be left on the
smooth expanse of granite to indicate the near presence of a man.
Swinging to the lariat that was now tied to a short plank, he
lowered himself into the midst of the debris with which that part
of his floor was strewn. Poised on top of the heap of boards that
had formed the sides of the wagon, he pushed upward with a longer
plank and dislodged the one from which the rope dangled. It fell
at his feet.

Provided with nails, a hammer and plenty of lumber, it would not be
difficult to construct a ladder for egress. At present, he was too
tired to provide for the future. He left the spoils just as they
had fallen, except for the old wagon-tongue and a board or two with
which he built a barricade against the unknown depths at the
farthest margin of the floor. Then drawing the mattress to one
side, and clearing it of its contents, he fell upon it with a sigh
of comfort, and was again plunged into slumber--slumber prolonged
far into the following day.



CHAPTER VI
A MYSTERIOUS GUEST


When he awoke, a bar of sunshine which at first he mistook for an
outcropping of Spanish gold, glowed against the granite wall of his
mountain-top retreat. He rose in leisurely fashion--henceforth
there would be plenty of time, years of it, running to waste with
useless days. After eating and partaking sparingly of the brackish