“Very well, take the back trail for the grave you dug; it will hold two,” said Bill indifferently.
The outlaw shuddered, and replied quickly:
“I’ll cross the river.”
“Right are you, Sammy, my boy.”
Into the water they went, and, once on the other shore, where a number of trails divided, Buffalo Bill selected the one that would lead him to the fort.
“Thet trail only goes up into ther hills,” said the outlaw nervously.
“It is into the hills I wish to go.”
“Ther’ ain’t nothin’ up thar yer want.”
“There’s where you are off your base, Ginger, for there is.”
“What do yer want?”