When the clerk declared that he hadn’t, and went away, Buffalo Bill buckled on his pistols.
“Whar away?” Nomad flung at him.
“I think I’ll prowl round outside a little while. Maybe I can get sight of that rascal, if he’s lurking about.”
“I’ll pike erlong with ye.”
“No; you stay here. Move about now and then; so that if any one is watching the window he won’t know that I’ve gone out. That may help me to catch him.”
“An’ help me ter git er hunk o’ lead under my hide!”
Buffalo Bill skulked round outside for an hour; but he saw no one.
“This hyar thing’s gittin’ onto my narves,” the trapper declared, when the scout came back.
“It’s a bit trying to be shot at, and not know who is doing it!”
He took a turn about the room.