“It looks as though I was going to win my bet, Cody,” said Kent King, with a sneer.
“You have got the stakes, anyhow, by murdering this poor girl, and, of course, I need expect no mercy,” was the cool reply.
“Murdered Kate! What do you mean?” and the man’s face turned white.
“I had a suspicion that you were not what you represented yourself, and when Mrs. Dooley, who had dressed poor Kate for the grave, told me that her hair had been dyed yellow, I determined to ferret out the mystery, and I have done so.”
“You have run yourself into a death trap, and whether I killed Kate or not, you will never be called as a witness in the case.”
“I’m not dead yet, old man.”
“No, but you will be within the minute; for I intend to kill you,” was the deliberate reply.
Then Kent King’s revolver covered Buffalo Bill’s heart, while he continued:
“I want you to die with the pleasant thought that I am going West to marry Mary Hale——”
“I doubt it.”