“Nonsense. I know, by what Black Wing told me, that there is not enough grub in the shebang to last a dozen men a week.”
“True, but suppose there are but two persons in the castle?”
Wild Bill caught his breath. “Do you mean——”
“Yes,” the king of scouts quickly interrupted. “I mean that the Apaches are not in the castle. They are playing trick against trick. Flag-pole Jack and Shorty Sands are inside, no others are there, and the shots were fired to make you believe the whole force of the enemy is in there. Do you catch on? At this minute, if I am not clear out of my reckoning, the Apaches are preparing to sneak up and massacre your whole outfit.”
“They will come from the rear, then.”
“Naturally.”
Wild Bill, who had been sitting on the ground, arose to his feet and issued some quick orders to the Comanches.
Four of them at once stole away in the darkness, going along the edge of the valley, two on each side.
As soon as they had departed, Buffalo Bill went to Sybil Hayden’s side and whispered: “There is likely to be trouble soon, and you must not be where you would run the chance of catching a stray bullet. Go around the wall until you get to a large, low-growing pine. Climb the tree, you will find it easy work, and wait until it is safe for you to return here.”
The girl at first refused to go, but upon her father’s supplication she left for the pine.