STRANGE HAPPENINGS.
Before they had gone far they were given evidence that the Redskin
Rovers had awakened to the fact that they had been tricked; an
awakening due doubtless to the superior intelligence of their white
leader, who, as his talk with Buffalo Bill had showed, was not an
ignorant man.
Now and again a distant yell was heard--a signal call; and signal
fires flashed forth on some of the hills. It became evident, too,
that the redskins suspected that the escaped prisoners would hurry
toward Latimer’s, because these yells and signal fires advanced in
that direction.
The utmost caution was required to keep now from running into some
trap. Hence, progress, though steady, was slow, and but little
talking was done. Buffalo Bill led the way, striding on before, and
Nomad brought up the rear on Nebuchadnezzar.
Nomad took care to conceal any chance sight of the fiery lines on
his body; and as for old Nebuchadnezzar, the silent manner in which
he plodded on suggested that he understood the peril of his human
companions quite as well as they did themselves.
In the border of the hills, shortly before daybreak, the little
company of fugitives halted and went into camp. But they built no
fires, and they maintained a good degree of quiet.
As they camped down, Buffalo Bill found opportunity to ask old Nomad
what it was he had on several occasions tried to communicate to him.
Nomad cackled out his queer little laugh, and glanced at Latimer.
“Buffler,” he said, “I been achin’ ter tell ye why I went ter thet
house; but now I ain’t goin’ ter tell ye till we git ther ag’in. I’m
goin’ ter su’prise ye with it.”
“You can’t say, Nomad, if you know anything about that young man and
young woman I saw there?”
“Buffler, not a thing. I never knowed sich critters war thar.”
Buffalo Bill again asked John Latimer what he knew of them; and
Latimer, as before, declared his complete ignorance, although there
was something in his manner when he said it which seemed strange and
unnatural.
However, ever since his capture, Latimer had acted more and more
as if he were displeased with Buffalo Bill. He had been silent and
reticent, and apparently filled with morbid gloom. And he no more
talked of the Redskin Rovers and the outlaws, which had been his
excuse for asking Buffalo Bill to come out to his home.
It will be recalled that he had written many complaints to the
authorities about the raids made by outlaws and Indians on his place,
and because of these complaints Buffalo Bill had been sent there.
Now he had dropped that subject, and Buffalo Bill began to wonder if
Latimer himself were not in some way mixed up with the very bands of
whom he had so lustily complained. It would not have been the first
time in his experience when such a thing had been revealed.
In the camp in the border of the hills the little party remained
until after daylight, and they did not set forth until from the
highest peak the scout had taken a survey of the country and had
determined that the pursuing Indians were not near.
With the coming of day, Pizen Kate became voluble once more. She
developed a surprising tendency to ask sharp questions of John
Latimer.
“I don’t think that you’re what you’re pertendin’ to be,” she told
him. “I think that you’re jes’ a deceiver. All men aire deceivers,
but they deceive in diff’rent ways. Nicholas deceived me by makin’ me
think that he loved me so well he couldn’t never leave me, and then
he up and run away fust chance he got. But you’re diff’rent from him.
You’re a-deceivin’ as to who ye aire, and as to why you’re livin’ out
in this country. Now, ain’t ye?”
“Woman, stop your chatter!” he cried.
“A woman’s tongue was made fer talkin’,” she snapped. “I don’t shet
up until I want to. And I ain’t goin’ to want to until I know if you
ain’t a deceiver.”
Nomad grinned while Pizen Kate was thus expressing herself; but it
was observable, at the same time, that he paid close attention to
Latimer’s comments, and seemed disappointed when nothing came of
Pizen Kate’s tongue-wagging.
Buffalo Bill also listened closely; for he, too, had the feeling
that John Latimer was not all he professed to be.
There was a good deal of timbered land along the base of the hills,
extending well out upon the mesa where Latimer had his home. In the
open, treeless mesa there was danger of being seen by the pursuing
redskins, and for that reason Buffalo Bill called another halt.
It seemed advisable that a thorough look about the country should
be taken, and for this purpose both Buffalo Bill and Nick Nomad
separated from the others and set forth, going in different
directions. Thus Pizen Kate and John Latimer were left behind.
Hardly were Nomad and Buffalo Bill out of sight when Latimer rose
from the ground where he had been resting, and strode about, looking
hither and thither in a restless manner. Pizen Kate had her keen and
snappy eyes on him.
“I’ve allers heerd,” she declared, “that when men’s consciences is
hurtin’ ’em bad they git fidgety, same’s you aire now. And I’ve
allers heerd, likewise, that confession is good fer a hurtin’
conscience. So, if you’ve anything that’s settin’ too hard on yer
mind, why don’t ye tell me about it, and mebbe I kin help ye some. I
allers git the confidences of everybody in the community where I’ve
lived these twenty years back, and I reckon that ought to prove that
in comfortin’ I ain’t no slow coach.”
It was a queer speech, and it had no effect on John Latimer, except
to irritate him.
“Woman, hold your tongue!” he commanded.
“Well, not at _your_ orderin’!” she snapped. “I’ve been watchin’ ye,
and somethin’s troublin’ you, er I ain’t a jedge. Now, what is it?”
“I won’t listen to your chatter!” he asserted in wrath, and walked
away.
Though she soon started to follow him, for the purpose of seeing what
he did, or what befell him, he walked so rapidly, when once he had
left her, that she lost sight of him.
“Well, don’t that git ye?” she mumbled, peering through the
undergrowth. “I said, and I’ll say it ag’in, that somethin’s
troublin’ that man a good deal more than his breakfast is.”
Buffalo Bill had found some Indian signs which did not please
him, and he was hastening back to the camp, with the intention
of suggesting a forward movement, when he came upon a sight that
astonished him. He saw Latimer walking hurriedly through the timber
growth, which here was low and scrubby--walking as if he had an
important meeting in view and needed to hasten. Then he saw Latimer
stop before an Indian, who rose out of the bushes.
Latimer seemed to hold a brief conversation with this Indian. His
attitude was that of a man talking with the Indian in a friendly
manner, rather than otherwise. But before the conversation had
proceeded far other Indians jumped out of the undergrowth, and these
made Latimer a prisoner.
What had before seemed so like treachery on Latimer’s part looked
altogether different now; and, seeing that he needed aid, Buffalo
Bill started hurriedly to help him, gliding through the bushes with
the silence and ease of a serpent.
Then another and most peculiar thing happened:
A young man leaped out of the undergrowth--a young man who swung
a heavy rifle as a club. He attacked the Indians with an awful
ferocity, smashing at them as if he cared not for his own life or the
risks he ran.
While he thus attacked the redskins a young woman came running out
into the little glade where these things were taking place. There she
halted, pitching a little rifle up to her shoulder. She stood like
a picture framed by the greenery, just long enough to enable her to
draw the rifle sights down on the fighting men; and then the little
rifle cracked.
One of the Indians, who had been making the stiffest fight against
the young man, fell at the report of the rifle. The second Indian the
young man knocked down. The third took to his heels, and was followed
quickly by the one whom the youth had knocked over.
The young woman darted away, and came back in a little while, leading
two horses.
Latimer lay on the ground, apparently hurt, with the young man
bending over him. When the horses were brought up by the girl,
Latimer was lifted by the youth to the back of one of them. Behind
him the young woman mounted, the young man leaped to the back of the
other horse, and then all rode away hurriedly, disappearing from view
almost immediately.
All this Buffalo Bill saw, as he stood halting and hesitating.
It took place, too, in a time inconceivably short; so that if the
scout had even tried to reach the scene of this swift action, he
would not have arrived there before the chief actors had departed.
He stood in a sort of daze, however, not starting forward until after
the horses and their riders had disappeared; for he had recognized in
that young man and young woman the ones he had seen so mysteriously
at Latimer’s house on the mesa.
“I don’t know how it chanced that Latimer was out here, but the
rest of it is clear enough,” was his thought, as he walked hastily
on toward the point where this lively fight and transformation had
taken place. “Those people are Latimer’s friends, in spite of his
statements that he did not know of their existence. Chancing to be
here, they saw his strait and rushed to his aid. That young man is
a fighter of the sort I like to see, and that girl is certainly a
heroine, as well as a cool rifle shot. I wonder who they are? And
I wonder why Latimer should have thought it needful to deny all
knowledge of them? Yes, and why did they act so mysteriously at the
house?”
These questions could not be answered by an inspection of the Indian
the girl had brought down; but the scout, nevertheless, went up to
the fallen redskin who was dead.
An inspection of his clothing, ornaments, and weapons convinced
Buffalo Bill that he belonged to the Redskin Rovers, which was proof
enough that the Rovers were following the fugitives still, and were
near.
The dead Indian had a good revolver, and as the scout needed one, he
appropriated it, together with the cartridges.
The trail left by the two horses Buffalo Bill followed for some
distance, until convinced that it was headed in the direction of the
house on the mesa.