it wanting a million dollars。 He has to。 I've e all the way out here。 He has to understand。〃
It sounded utterly feminine to McKee； the reverse side of Sara's logic； and a simpler assignment。 A brilliant； ambitious man could easily enough fail to make a fortune。 But how could a Bergen McKee； a natural on the treadmill； make himself rich？
And； thinking that； McKee； after forty hours without rest； was suddenly asleep。
Now he was fully awake again。 He pushed himself to his feet and surveyed the room。 The floor was covered with a heavy deposit of dust。 He could feel it； flourlike； under the soles of his shoes。 But the condition of the room was surprising。 It was virtually intact。 The roof sagged only at one corner； where the ceiling beams had snapped with rot； and plaster still clung to most of the lower portion of the walls。
McKee flaked off a section of plaster with his thumbnail； broke it and examined it。 Inside it was almost black…a mixture of animal blood and caliche clay used by the pueblo…building people。
It was stone…hard and would last for centuries； and so would the cedar poles in the roof when protected from weather under a cliff。 But not for this many centuries。 Left alone； the roof would have crumbled long ago and the top of the walls would have fallen inward。 This ruin must have been partially rebuilt…restored by one of the later pueblo people who used the canyon before the Navajos arrived and drove them out。
It was then he saw the face。 He stood for a moment staring at it； putting together what it meant； feeling a sense of excitement building within him。 The face was drawn on the plaster in something yellow…probably ocher。 It was faded now and partly missing where chips of plaster had fallen away。 A roundish outline with a topknot； long ears； and a collar。 The figure was unquestionably a Hopi Kachina…either the Dung Carrier or the Mud Head Clown。 And below it to the right were two more stylized outlines。
From the Hopi mythology McKee recognized Chowilawu； the spirit of Terrible Power； with four black…tipped feathers rising vertically from his squarish head and a horizontal band of red bunding his eyes。 The third head had been almost erased by flaking。 Only the dim outline of a protruding ear and the double vertical cheek stripes signifying a warrior spirit remained。 Down the wall there were other markings…the zigzag of lightning； bird tracks； the stair…stepped triangles of clouds； and a row of phallic symbols。 Undoubtedly； one of the Hopi clans had used this as a ceremonial kiva。
He stood absolutely silent a moment； thinking； and then squatted beside Miss Leon and put his hand on her shoulder。
Time to wake up。〃
She rubbed her arm across her eyes。
〃Very domestic；〃 McKee said。
She looked up at him and then pushed herself up against the wall； trying to straighten her tousled hair with her fingers。 〃Oh。 What time is it？〃
〃About four forty…five；〃 McKee said。 〃We shouldn't have wasted all that time。 We need to get out of here。〃
〃Out of here？ But I don't see how we can。〃 Miss Leon looked up at the exit hole in the roof and then at McKee。 〃What do you mean？ How can we？〃
〃The Hopis lived in this。 They rebuilt it。 Have you read anything about how the Hopis build their pueblos？〃 It occurred to McKee as he said it that he was showing off and the thought embarrassed him。 Ellen looked puzzled。
〃They always built an escape hatch at the bottom of a wall；〃 he explained。 〃A hole into the next room； and then they would fill it in with rocks that could be easily pulled out。 Kept them from being penned up in part of the structure if they were under attack。〃
〃Oh；〃 Ellen said。 〃You think there's a way out； then。〃
〃I think so。 We can find out。 It would be in one of the inside corners。〃
And most likely； McKee thought； in the corner adjoining the cliff。 Bracing over the escape hole would have been easier there。
The corner was littered with broken cedar sticks。 Above； occasional moisture seeping down the cliff face had accelerated the slow work of decay。 The builders had cut holes into the soft stone to support the ends of ceiling beams and here the rot had started first。
McKee selected one of the sticks and began pushing the debris away from the corner。 He worked carefully； trying to avoid noise。 But the powdery dust rose in a cloud around him。 Ellen knelt beside him； pushing the dust back carefully with her hands。
〃Don't make any noise。〃
〃Do you have any idea what this is all about？〃 she whispered。 〃Why does he want you to write that letter？〃
〃I don't know what's going on；〃 McKee said。 〃Maybe they're crazy。〃
〃I think you know about the letter；〃 Miss Leon said。 She stopped digging and looked at him。 Her face was chalky with dust。 White and strained。 McKee looked away。
〃He explained why he wanted the letter；〃 McKee said。
〃And if you believed him； you would have written it；〃 Ellen said。 She sat back on her heels； still looking at him。 〃Why don't you stop treating me like a child？ You know as well as I do that if they were going to turn us loose they wouldn't need the letter。〃
〃O。K。；〃 McKee said。 〃I think you're right。 They want the letter because they know that someday there's going to be a search started for us and they don't want the search to be in here。 They don't want the search to be in this canyon ever…or at least not for a long； long time。〃
〃But why not？ Do you know why？〃
〃No；〃 McKee said。 〃Can't even make a good guess at it。 But it has to be right。〃
He leaned back against the cliff and wiped the dust off his face。
〃I didn't think so at first。 I thought that； whatever they were doing here； it was making them wait for something； and they didn't know how long the wait would be； so they didn't want interference。 But that's not right； because it seems to be happening today。 They could just leave us here； and it would be a long time before anyone found us。 A lot more time than they would need to get away。〃
That's what I thought of； too；〃 Ellen said。
〃Did you notice how they camped？〃 McKee asked。 〃No garbage hole。 Put all the cans and stuff in gunny sacks。 And Eddie； when he lit the stove； he put the burned match in his vest pocket。〃
〃I didn't notice。 I guess I didn't think of that。〃
〃When they pull out of here there won't be any traces left。 Not after the August rainy season； anyway。 Unless there was some reason for a search； no one could ever know anyone had been in here。〃
Beneath the pile of debris in the corner； the plaster looked almost new。 He jabbed it with his stick and cursed inwardly when the rotten wood snapped。 For this he needed his pocket knife and the Big Navajo had taken it when he had searched him。 Or had he？
McKee suddenly was aware of the weight of the knife in his shirt pocket。 He had dropped it there with his cigarette pack when he hurried from their tent…hands full of odds and ends…in his futile race to escape。 It was a ridiculous place to carry a pocket knife； and the Navajo had overlooked it。
McKee fished it out and pulled open the blade…noticing he could hold it between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand with little pain。 With the knuckle back in joint the swelling must be going down。 There would be no chance now of persuading the Navajo that he couldn't write。
The plaster chipped away in sections； revealing a rough surface of stone with mud mortar chinking。 A moment later a yard…square sheet crumbled and McKee saw he had guessed right。 The fitted stonework ended in a crude half…arch in the corner two feet above the floor。 The first stone he pulled on was jammed tightly； but the second slipped out easily。
McKee rocked back on his heels； looking at the stone。 It was about the size of a grapefruit and felt clumsy in his left hand。 He tried to shift it to the right； but it fell into the dust。
Miss Leon looked at the stone and then at him。
〃I think we can get out；〃 he said。 〃We can if the room on the other side hasn't fallen in and buried this crawl hole under a lot of big rocks。〃
〃What do we do if we get out？〃 Her voice was very small。
〃Did you hear them e back during the night？〃 McKee said。
〃No。 I didn't hear anything。 But we don't even know if they left。 Maybe just one climbed down。〃