"Who is there?" came a frightened voice from the farthest corner of the room.

"It's the American boys who were talking with you at the window," answered Harry, reassuringly. "We are friends. Do not fear."

"Oh," came in a gasp of relief. "I thought they were about to inflict some new horror upon me. What have you done?"

"We do not quite know ourselves. In some way we touched a secret spring that rolled over this stone and formed a passage between these two cells. It is just possible that there may be another one. May we come in and look?"

"Yes, yes, come in. Oh, perhaps it is true—perhaps we shall be able to escape from this horrible place."

"Do not hope for too much. It was only a chance thought of mine. However, we better see."

The boys climbed through the opening without difficulty and found themselves in a room exactly similar to the one they had left, except that it was furnished a little more comfortably for a woman.

The moon had set, but they were now so used to the darkness that with the little starlight that penetrated through the barred windows they were able to see quite well. They went at once to the wall directly opposite and began an eager search for a diamond-shaped stone. There was none, nor was there any big slab-like stone resembling the revolving one in the wall through which they had just passed. They tried the other two walls, but also without avail. It was evident that only these two cells were connected.

"Well, Miss Juanita," said Harry, when they had assured themselves that there was no other opening, "we have only succeeded in widening our prisons. There is no other means of exit but the doors. I am very sorry to have raised your expectations."

The girl, who had followed them eagerly from place to place as they examined the walls, held out her hands in protest at Harry's words.

"Oh, let me thank you for the ray of happiness you have brought me," she said, quickly.

"I can't think that we have in any way lightened your burden, except that you may count on us to do anything in our power to help you, but I fear that is very little."

"Ah, but you brought me news of him and—and the knowledge of the near presence of friends is cheering."

"Yes, Miss Juanita, and I think you can bank on hearing more news from him in the very near future."

"I hope so for—for all our sakes."

"Now that we are literally up against a stone wall, I think we better climb back into our own cell before the guard takes it into his head to look around. Cheer up, Miss Juanita, Captain Dynamite will be on the march before long, I'll warrant you. Good night."

"Good-night, my friends."

"Now I wonder how the old stone works backwards?" said Harry, when they had returned to their own room.

"Press the button and the stone will do the rest," said Bert, with a grim attempt at humor. He pressed the diamond-shaped stone as he spoke, but there was no answering creak, nor did the slab move.

"It is not likely that the same spring does double duty. We will have to hunt up the other," said Harry. "Now, by all the laws of symmetry there should be another similar stone on the other side of the slab—and here it is."

He pushed on this as he spoke, and at once the grinding sound began again and the stone slowly settled back into place.

"Well, our discovery of the Don's secret inquisitorial passage does not appear to have done us much good," said Bert, as they stretched themselves out on their beds again.

"I'm not so sure of that," replied Harry, thoughtfully. "I think I see a way by which at least one of us three can benefit by it."

"How?"

"Wait until I get it all thought out. In the meantime I am going to get a little more sleep."

They did not return to their own cell any too soon, for they had no more than turned over for their second nap when a light flashed in their eyes and they sat up to find their silent jailor had opened the door noiselessly and was inspecting the room with the aid of a large lantern. He nodded his head in a satisfied way and passed out again.

"Say, Hal, old man, this sort of thing is getting on my nerves," said Bert, when the man had gone.

"I wouldn't mind a few streaks of daylight myself, Bert."

Tired as they were, the boys' nerves were so worked upon that they were unable to go to sleep again and tossed on their cots until the gray dawn began to show through the windows. They lay in a sort of lethargy watching the sky grow brighter and brighter until they were aroused to action by the loud voices of men and the clanking of guns in the jail yard below.

"Holloa, I wonder what's up now," said Harry, jumping up and climbing on the table to peer out.

The yard was still full of dark shadows and the forms of men were not fully distinguishable, but Harry could make out a group of armed soldiers standing at ease, chatting and smoking cigarettes near one of the gray walls. An officer, apart from his men, strutted pompously up and down the yard.

"I guess they must be going to drill," said Bert, who had climbed up beside Harry.

"Pretty early for drill."

"Time doesn't seem to cut any figure in this country. I've been doing something night and day ever since we struck the place. I should like to get home to a quiet life again."

Another officer entered the yard and approached the man who paced to and fro. He handed him a paper which the other read, nodded as if in assent, and turning to the men gave an order in a sharp voice. The soldiers fell into a file of threes and at another word of command marched quickly into the jail, the officer following them, leisurely rolling a cigarette.

In another moment the boys heard the tramp of feet at the lower end of the corridor outside of their cell.

"Are they coming for us, do you think, Hal?" asked Bert, in a tremulous voice.

The footsteps came nearer and nearer. Now they were just outside the door and the boys involuntarily caught their breath. They passed on without stopping and they heard them die away down the passage. Again there was silence and then a sound as if a heavy iron door had been closed with a bang. This was followed again by the regular tramp of the soldiers' feet as they returned along the corridor. They passed the door of the boys' cell and again the sound died away.

Harry turned again to the window. The soldiers filed rapidly into the yard, but this time there was another in their ranks. A man in his shirt sleeves with his hands bound behind his back marched with head erect between the two middle ranks. He was a tall, muscular man, broad of shoulder and lithe of limb. His face was pale, but the expression was calm and determined. His step was firm and the soldiers at his back found no need to urge him on. They marched straight to the wall of the yard that faced the jail, and at a command from the officer, the soldiers parted, leaving the man standing with his back to the wall and facing his captors.

As the soldiers fell back they formed ranks of six on either side of the prisoner, the butts of their rifles resting on the ground. Down this narrow human alley the commander strode until he stood face to face with the man against the wall. He spoke to him in Spanish and the prisoner replied briefly, at the same time lifting his head proudly and looking his questioner firmly in the eye. Although the boys could understand nothing that was said, it was easy to tell that the officer had made some offer which the other proudly rejected. The boys looked on with a feeling that they were about to witness a tragedy, but some strange fascination prevented them from turning away.

The commander turned to the jail and lifted his hand as a signal. A friar in long solemn robes walked slowly down between the ranks of soldiers, his eyes fixed on the ground. As he reached the prisoner, he stopped in front of him and raised his head. In his thin, worn face there was an expression of gentle sorrow. He spoke a few words and raised a cross before the face of the other, who leaned eagerly forward and kissed it. The friar bowed his head and fell back a few paces. In a low voice he repeated what was apparently a prayer, and then once more holding the cross for a moment before the eyes of the doomed man, he turned and walked slowly back to the jail, his lips still moving in prayer.

A man stepped out of the ranks and tied a silk handkerchief over the eyes of the prisoner. The boys, watching breathlessly through the bars of the window, were pale with the horror of the scene. They now understood the tragedy that was about to be enacted, but they could not shake off the desire to look.

The soldier moved back into the ranks, there was another sharp command and the lines wheeled and marched in a single rank of twelve back to the jail wall. They were now directly under the boys and out of their line of vision. All they could see was the man with the bound hands and bandaged eyes standing calmly facing them.

There was another quick command, followed instantly by a rattle of arms.

The boys cast off the spell that had held them, and with a cry of horror jumped down from the table and throwing themselves on the beds placed their hands over their ears.

Another command in a low tone, and the discharge of twelve guns as one ended it.

"I hope she did not see," said Harry, raising his white face.

He had scarcely uttered the words, when the wild shriek of a woman rang out on the morning air.

A loud, coarse laugh from the jail yard followed the pitiful cry and Harry clenched his hand in futile anger.