Buffalo Bill did not hear the last words of his comrade. He was walking toward the open front gate, his eyes on the sandy ground.
At the edge of the grove of trees he stopped and called to Alkali Pete. “Come on,” he said. “The girl went off this way. I have found her tracks.”
The lanky plainsman, his arm in that of Black-face Ned, started for the grove.
“There are plenty of other tracks, mostly Indian,” the king of scouts said, “but it was easy to pick out Miss Hayden’s. She has gone down the valley.”
“To take a look at that cottonwood, I reckon,” was Alkali Pete’s rejoinder.
“Probably. I hope we will find her there, and also that she has discovered that her father has not yet been killed.”
The walk to the end of the valley was quickly performed.
The surprise of Buffalo Bill was great when he saw, sitting under the cottonwood, Sybil Hayden and her father.
Both rose as their eyes fell on the two scouts. With a happy smile the girl spoke.
“I have been waiting for you,” she said, as she came forward to meet the king of scouts. Then, as her eyes fell on Black-face Ned, she added: “You have done well.”