“No, I did not kill him, for he escaped from me before we reached Santa Fe. He was captured in Border City in disguise by Buffalo Bill and some of my men, and again escaped, through the love of a girl who had sought him to kill him, but changed her mind, and fled with him. In the disguise of a preacher he boldly joined the westward-bound train, though Buffalo Bill and some of my men were along; and he passed the girl, Panther Kate, also disguised, off as his daughter.
“That poor girl he poisoned by degrees, she not even suspecting it, and she was buried on the side of the trail. At her grave Buffalo Bill found him, and recognized him by some means. Then Cody was forced to fly for his life, pursued by the Trail Bandits, who just then came up, painted as Indians.”
“Can this be true?” gasped Mary Hale, trembling violently.
“I got it from one of his own men, whom I recognized, and hanged an hour ago, knowing him to be a renegade and murderer.”
“And where is Kent King now?” she asked, in almost a whisper.
“He has fled. It seems he saw us hanging the man, though we did not then see him, and he took to the prairie, with his band.”
“His band?”
“Yes, he is chief of the Trail Bandits now.”
“This is fearful, indeed.”
“But I shall soon be on their trail. My Revolver Riders now number half a hundred, and we will bring back Bill Cody, or avenge him fearfully.”