The platform was carefully inspected. There was no break in the surface.
The ground about was next given the benefit of searching scrutiny. Nothing unusual was presented to the sight. “Humph!” grunted the baffled scout. “I wonder where the monkey business is hidden.”
He stepped upon the platform, and the answer to his question was at once given, and in a most startling manner.
The huge rock sank under him, and he shot downward twenty feet. The descent was rapid, but not so rapid as to cause him to lose his balance when the bottom was reached. But he had not time to act on the defensive against the enemy, who had been awaiting his coming. A lasso settled about his neck, and he was jerked roughly to the hard floor of the cave.
A succession of heavy blows upon the head instantly followed his downfall.
When he awoke to consciousness he was lying on a couch of skins in another part of the cave. There was a subdued light furnished by a thin crevice in the rocky wall over his head.
Raising himself on an elbow, he saw a young woman sitting on another couch and bathing the head of a prostrate man. The man was Bart Angell, and the young woman was Myra Wilton.
He was about to speak, when Rixton Holmes came in. The villain burst into a laugh when he saw that the king of scouts had revived.
“Well, William the Great, what is your conclusion? Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”
“I certainly made a mistake,” replied Buffalo Bill.