The circumstances induced a feeling of uneasiness, for the scout had closed the door when he went out of it less than half an hour before.
At the threshold he stopped in amazement. Sybil Hayden had gone, and Thunder Cloud lay as if dead upon the stone floor.
The king of scouts walked to the body, and his amazement was intensified.
The Apache chief was dead, and there was a bullet hole above the right temple. His hands, freed from the leathers that Buffalo Bill had used to secure them, were stretched out and clenched.
No time was wasted in the room. Hastening back to Alkali Pete, the king of scouts announced his astonishing discovery.
“Ther Injun got shet of the leathers, and was aimin’ ter do up ther gal when she plugged him. O’ course that’s the way it happened, Buffler.”
“You are probably right. There is no other sensible explanation. But why did she leave the room? I requested her to stay until I returned. There is something queer about the affair.”
“Maybe she lit out ter hunt you up. Got tired o’ waitin’.”
Buffalo Bill went to the rear of the castle, and, not finding the girl, returned to the front, reëntered the building, and searched all the rooms. No sign of the girl anywhere.
Alkali Pete had to confess that the matter was beyond him. “Gals aire pecooliar,” he remarked. “Ye never know what they aire plannin’ ter do.”