He came a few steps
inside the cave and stopped, evidently striving to pierce the
darkness with his questing eyes.
Courtney pushed himself away from the supporting wall and advanced
slowly.
"Here's my gun," he faltered, and the weapon clattered on the
rocky floor at his feet. "Don't shoot! I am unarmed. My hands are
up,--comrade."
"Stand still," warned the other hoarsely. He was breathing heavily.
"Don't move!"
Courtney took another pull at the cigarette that hung limply between
his sagging lips. He could be as brave, as cool as the other fellow!
He would give them something to talk about when they related the
story of his capture. He would--
Suddenly the man lunged forward...A pair of iron arms wrapped
themselves about his waist. He went down with a crash. Even as the
cry of surprise and indignation rose to his lips, his head struck
and his mind became a blank.
Slowly, as out of a fog, his senses came back. He was hazily aware
of a light shining in his eyes, and of a dull pain somewhere. Things
began to take shape before his whirling eyes. He strove to steady
them, to concentrate on the bright thing that flitted back and
forth before them. At last the blaze became stationary.
Quite close at hand was a fire,--a bright, crackling fire whose
flames danced merrily. Where was he? It was not like any other
fire he had ever seen before.
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