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At the very depth of the Canyon Bob suddenly realized what the Reclamation Service had to contend with. It was places like this which needed feats of engineering skill to let people even get near to them, that the Service had to contend with. Nature was the Service’s foe. Its task was to subjugate her to its own ends. Of course this Canyon was too big; the desert land was too far away for any irrigation project to be thought of. The report of Julia's disappearance spread rapidly beyond the walls, and soon reached the ears of the marquis, who rejoiced in the circumstance, believing that she must now inevitably fall into his hands. Happy as this;.

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“But Father would not like your doing this, John.” Nothing new had developed in the plot which he felt was being formed between the cattlemen and the Mexicans by means of Jerry. Feather-in-the-Wind had not reported anything further. What worried Bob most was his suspicions regarding Jerry King. Although he was sure that Jerry was not doing what he should, he realized that all he had to go on was circumstantial evidence. He had no real proof! "It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood. I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you." He now for the first time stopped to listen—the sounds of pursuit were ceased, and all was silent! Continuing to wander on in effectual endeavours to escape, his hands at length touched cold iron, and he quickly perceived it belonged to a door. The door, however, was fastened, and resisted all his efforts to open it. He was giving up the attempt in despair, when a loud scream from within, followed by a dead and heavy noise, roused all his attention. Silence ensued. He listened for a considerable time at the door, his imagination filled with images of horror, and expecting to hear the sound repeated. He then sought for a decayed part of the door, through which he might discover what was beyond; but he could find none; and after waiting some time without hearing any farther noise, he was quitting the spot, when in passing his arm over the door, it struck against something hard. On examination he perceived, to his extreme surprize, that the key was in the lock. For a moment he hesitated what to do; but curiosity overcame other considerations, and with a trembling hand he turned the key. The door opened into a large and desolate apartment, dimly lighted by a lamp that stood on a table, which was almost the only furniture of the place. The Count had advanced several steps before he perceived an object, which fixed all his attention. This was the figure of a young woman lying on the floor apparently dead. Her face was concealed in her robe; and the long auburn tresses which fell in beautiful luxuriance over her bosom, served to veil a part of the glowing beauty which the disorder of her dress would have revealed..