“Of course, I refused, and it was then that Uncle Arthur’s insanity came to the surface. He had always been kindness itself, but now he suddenly became the very incarnation of cruelty. While there was no question but that he was entirely mad, yet in his madness his brain was as shrewd and cunning as ever.
“When I refused to marry Beebe he began to practice his cruelties on me in an effort to break my will. I was utterly at his mercy, for there was no way that I could escape. All I could do was submit.
“The culmination of his indignities was to chain me to the rocks where you found me. Whether he would have left me there till I was dead I hardly know, but I think not. His brain was so unbalanced that it would be hard to tell.
“I ran away that night because I knew he would kill you if he found you with me. Evidently he had Garfin watching me, or he would not have learned that you had released me. He was obsessed with the idea that you were the younger Waring.
“The rest of the story you know. I dare not think of what would have happened to me if you had not come to my rescue, Mr. Ross.”
“But what really happened the night I escaped?” asked Ross.
“Well—you shot both Uncle Arthur and Poole,” she replied hesitatingly.
“Did I—did I—” he floundered helplessly.
“Yes,” she replied evenly. “Providence helped your aim that night. Wong buried them both. No, Mr. Ross,” she finished, as she noted the look on his face, “don’t feel that way about it. If you hadn’t killed them they would have killed you, and I would have suffered a fate worse than death. Under the circumstances I cannot feel sorry.”
“What happened to Beebe?” asked Ross, curious as to the fate of that dubious individual.
“That’s a mystery. He simply disappeared that night and we have not seen him since. Wong just barely missed him that night with a hatchet. I think he is deathly afraid of Wong. At any rate, he is gone. And now, Mr. Ross, I want to ask you a question: How did you manage to escape from your prison that night? Wong won’t tell me a thing. He just grins when I ask him, and I suspect I owe a great deal to Wong.”
“You surely do, Miss Carver,” answered Ross fervently. “That Chinaman is a wonder. In some way he got hold of my automatic and cartridge belt. He passed them to me through the window, and then, under some pretense, got Garfin to come and open the door. Then—well, Garfin won’t ever bother us again.”
_CHAPTER TEN_
A NEW DANGER
With the passing days, Ross found new strength and new interest. His head was already healed and his shoulder, beyond being stiff, no longer bothered him. While still somewhat weak, he was able to walk about as he pleased.
He found it very pleasant to pass the afternoons away on the long veranda. Here he was often joined by Virginia Carver, and the two spent hours together that were very pleasant. In fact, Ross suddenly became acutely aware that he was taking more than a passing interest in this girl.
Virginia Carver was exceedingly lovely. Moreover, she was of a type and personality that particularly appealed to Stanley Ross. While she was nursing him through his illness he had found her presence very pleasing. Now that he was nearly well, her companionship was becoming even more delightful, and he realized that, as far as he was concerned, friendship was ripening into something more definite. As he continued to improve he knew that the time was fast approaching when they would have to leave this desert oasis.
He found his mind continually recurring to Larson Beebe. How had he managed to disappear so completely that night? Where had he gone? What was he doing now? Ross could not dismiss the idea that they would hear from Beebe again, and that when they did it would mean trouble.
This conviction was the more firmly fixed in his mind by the actions of Virginia Carver. Ross felt sure that the girl was deeply worried over something; she seemed anxious and nervous; she appeared to be continually watching and listening for something. Intuition told Ross that the cause of her perturbation was Beebe.
Intuition again told him that perhaps Wong could throw some light on the situation. The next time that the Chinese appeared on the veranda Ross stopped him.
“Wong,” he said, “Miss Carver seems to be worried about something. Do you know what it is? Is it about Beebe? Do you know where he is?”
Wong’s face betrayed not a single glimmer of comprehension.
“No savvy,” he said.
“Yes, you do savvy, too. What’s wrong here? Where’s Beebe?”
Wong glanced hurriedly up and down the veranda as though he feared some one would overhear him. Then he jerked a meaning finger toward the mouth of the little canon.
“Him there,” he said in a low voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Him hide in canon. Kill all we go out.”
“We don’t have to go out that way.”
“No other way can go,” explained Wong.
“What! You mean to tell me that’s the only way out of this place? Why can’t we go out over the cliffs?”
“No can do,” replied the Chinese, and was gone before Ross could question him further.
So that was it! The canon was the only way out of the basin, and Beebe was hiding down there, waiting to pot them as they came out. Quite a neat little idea! So that was why Virginia Carver was carrying that worried look.
Ross went straight to the girl. He found her in the dining-room.
“Miss Carver,” he asked, “why didn’t you tell me that Beebe was down in that canon?”
“Well, I couldn’t see any use worrying you with that while you were so ill,” she replied, smiling. “And then, too, Mr. Ross, I think you are a little inclined to do impulsive things, and it seems to me you have ran risks enough on my account.”
Ross ignored this last.
“Then he really is there?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Ross, he is, and I am afraid that we are in rather a bad way. He has all the advantage.”
“But isn’t there any way out of this place except through that canon?”
“None at all. Uncle Arthur selected this place for that very reason. There was a trail up the cliff, but he dynamited that away. Unless we develop wings we’ll go out through that canon or not at all.”
Ross pondered for a moment. Finally he asked, “I wonder why he hasn’t tried to kill Wong and me at night?”
“There are at least two reasons, I think,” answered the girl. “The first is that Larson Beebe is a very cautious man. He will not risk a single hair of his head if it is not necessary. If he came up here he might get hurt. If he stays there he is perfectly safe and we haven’t a single chance of getting by.
“Another thing, I think he is deathly afraid of Wong. He came up in the night twice and stole provisions. Since then Wong has been watching. I don’t think he ever sleeps.”
“Well, we can outlast him anyway, Miss Carver.”
“But that’s just what we can’t do, Mr. Ross. Our provisions are very low.” The girl was gravely serious now. “Unless we can find some solution, I’m afraid he is going to starve us out very soon. It looks like we were trapped.”
_CHAPTER ELEVEN_
WONG HAS AN IDEA
Ross woke the next morning keenly aware of the seriousness of their predicament. As soon as breakfast was over he set out to examine the walls of the basin.
If he had any hope that there was a means of escape over the cliffs he was soon disillusioned. Nowhere was there a break in the walls. They were as perpendicular as a plumb-line and as smooth as basalt. Nothing but a fly could have scaled those cliffs.
The only way out led through the narrow twisting canon below. And there Larson Beebe lay in wait like a cat at a rat-hole. Ross realized that there was little or no chance for him or Wong to get through the canon alive. Beebe had all the advantage.
Ross returned to the house and sat down on the veranda. He ran over a dozen possible schemes for escape, and in the end he had to conclude that they were all impossible.
In fact, his only conclusion was that he would give what fortune he possessed to have Larson Beebe’s neck within the grasp of his two hands. That, however, seemed to be a remote possibility. If anything, the situation would be reversed.
Ross had about exhausted his whole range of impossible schemes when Wong appeared on the veranda. The Chinese wore an enigmatical smile on his usually inscrutable face. It was patent that he was well pleased with something.
“You come,” he addressed Ross. “Got something show.”
Ross rose and followed Wong, who led the way to one of the ’dobe outbuildings. Opening the door, he motioned Ross to enter.
The room was a work-shop of sorts, but what instantly attracted attention were two enormous kites leaning against the wall.
“You see?” inquired Wong.
“Yes, I see,” said Ross, “only I don’t. What’s the idea, Wong?”
“Mlisha Beebe kill everybody we go down canon. No can climb out. Wong make klite. Klite climb out.”
“Guess I’m pretty thick, Wong. I don’t get it yet.”
“When Wong little bloy China he fly many klites. Not forget how. Fly klite now. Klite lift lope top cliff. We climb lope. Go ’way.”
“By George, Wong, I believe you’ve got it,” cried Ross in admiration. “But will it work?”
“Can do” nodded Wong.
“But how will you fasten the rope at the top of the cliff, Wong?”