She had been gone five minutes, and the scouts sent out by Wild Bill had just returned with a startling report, when a scream, fraught with deadly terror, awoke the stillness and pierced Colonel Hayden’s heart like a knife. He was running along the wall in the direction of the sound when Buffalo Bill dashed by him, going at race-horse speed. A pistol shot was fired when the king of scouts was within a few yards of the pine tree.
Quickly following the report, a heavy body fell from the tree, striking the ground with a thud.
“That was not the girl,” said Buffalo Bill to himself, with positiveness. Then he called out in a thrilling whisper: “Miss Hayden—where are you?”
“In the tree,” was the answer given in a shaking voice. “I—I can’t get down.”
“Are you hurt?”—anxiously.
“No, but—I am stuck.”
The king of scouts struck a match, and, stepping forward, looked at the body that had fallen from the tree. It was that of Shorty Sands, and the outlaw was stone-dead.
Climbing into the tree, Buffalo Bill found that Sybil Hayden’s form had become wedged between two limbs. By using all his strength he was able to bend back one of the limbs so that the girl could move out. When both were on the ground she told her story. She had climbed into the tree, and was between the limbs when she heard a movement above her. Looking up, she saw the dim outlines of a man’s form, and immediately gave utterance to the scream that was heard at the front of the castle. Next she tried to leave the tree, but found to her terror that she could not move.
A hissing whisper caused her to stifle a second scream. “If you yell again, I’ll cut your heart out.”
Up to this time she had not thought of the pistol she carried. It was in her bosom, and she took it out just as the outlaw was about to swing himself to a limb opposite to her. As his feet touched the limb she fired.