“That’s right,” said the king of scouts to himself. “Jack and Sands couldn’t, for they were captured just after they clapped eyes on me. Hold on, though. There is Thunder Cloud. He knows I am here.” Again addressing Greathead, he said: “Your talk won’t wash. Thunder Cloud must have told Ned that I am here.”
“The chief did not see his white friend when he returned to the castle. Black-face Ned had gone. He left with the white maiden shortly after Thunder Cloud set out to scout the camp of the white maiden’s father.”
“Ah, that explains it. So the colonel escaped. When did he get away? Before Black-face Ned took his departure for another stamping ground?”
“The white maiden’s father has not escaped,” replied the Indian calmly. “Greathead did not say that he had done so.”
Buffalo Bill exhibited the greatest astonishment. “Not the colonel?” he said. “Then who was the white prisoner who escaped?”
“A blame’ long-nosed idjut whose handle used ter be Allen,” said a grunting voice behind the king of scouts.
Buffalo Bill turned and saw a tall, ungainly figure, with a long face, a hawklike nose, and two keen, snappy eyes, and his voice rang out in a glad cry: “Alkali Pete! Of all men in the world.”
The old plainsman, who had been in many campaigns with the king of scouts, was so delighted at the meeting that he opened his mouth in a grin that exposed a cavern of enormous size. This cavern was surrounded by yellow tusks, with such an irregular alignment as would have brought a sigh from any dentist in the land.
“Mortally s’prised ter see ther old man, aire ye?” he said, with a chuckle. “Ther s’prise is muchal. I no more expected ter run inter ye, Buffler, than I expected ter be persented ter ther Queen uv Maddygoosker.”
“But what are you doing in Arizona? I thought you had settled down in Kansas or Illinois, and was occupied in raising a family of Alkalis.”