Then he took the blankets from the roll behind the saddle, after which he patted the horse lovingly, and hurried away.
Going up the gulch again, he entered the side cañon and went on to the point where he had left the sentinel. He hurried as he walked, for the time was precious.
He found the fellow writhing and twisting at his bonds, in a vain hope to extricate himself from his unpleasant position.
“Ho, my man, I’m back sooner than you expected me!” he said, as he once more bent over the rascal. “Well, I’ve come to make a trade with you.”
Again he showed his revolver, then took the gag from the man’s mouth.
“What d’yer want?” the fellow growled, in a slow way, for his mouth was sore and stiff.
“Your clothing. I’m going to take these cords off of you—every one of them, so that you can strip. I want you to slide out of this suit as quick as you can.”
The man was puzzled. He began to hope, though, that a chance of escape would now be given him. When Buffalo Bill had removed the cords he covered the man with his revolver.
“Now, my friend,” he said quietly and sternly, “you’ll do a lightning shift out of those garments, or I’ll feel compelled to pump some lead into you. What I want with those clothes is none of your business; it’s enough for you to know that I want them.”