CHAPTER II.
THE TABLES ARE TURNED.
The man with the mask emitted a soft chuckle. “Appearances in this case are not deceitful, William,” he suavely replied. “I have the drop, and you are exactly where I want you.”
With the words he stepped into the room, but did not close the door. Placing a stool on one side of the opening, he coolly sat down, his revolver the while still pointed at the head of the king of scouts.
Buffalo Bill went on smoking, and, though his face was pale, there was no sign of fear upon it.
There was silence for a few moments, and then the scout said quietly: “If you are in no hurry to shoot, why not lower that gun of yours? It might go off accidentally and bring my partner here.”
The masked villain smiled evilly. “Your partner won’t come here to-day. He has gone where you are soon to go.”
Buffalo Bill could draw but one conclusion from the words. Bart Angell had been surprised and killed. And a knife, instead of a pistol, had been used.
Gazing steadily at the masked man, the intrepid border king thus voiced his opinion of the murderer: “I have met with all sorts of reptiles in my time, but never one who was so meanly detestable as yourself. You slimy, rotten, crawling apology for a human being, why don’t you blaze away? I’d rather slip up the flume than remain a minute longer in your company. The vilest degenerate that ever sucked air into his lungs is a saint alongside of you.”
Quick as a flash, the now thoroughly incensed villain raised the revolver, which had been slightly lowered while the king of scouts was speaking, and fired. The bullet cut a lock from the wounded scout’s temple, whereat he laughed.
“This is no laughing matter,” growled the assassin. “You escaped that time, but I’ll get you with the next bullet.”