“White-eyed Moses!” was his thought.
The rascal, discovering that he had failed once more, was so frightened by it and the scout’s reckless pursuit that he failed to fire again, but ran headlong toward the wine rooms.
When Buffalo Bill reached them, however, the man he sought was not there. And when the inmates were questioned they declared that though they had heard the shot they had seen no one.
As he turned back, Buffalo Bill thought he heard a voice in one of the small rooms, the one nearest the saloon.
But when he entered it, the door being open, he saw no one, and the room was empty. As the cubby-hole of a place was dark, he struck a match, to look about.
As if that were the signal, the room gave a downward jerk and dip, then settled with him, sinking so rapidly that he could not get out by the door.
He did not know it, then; but he was in the same elevator room which had trapped the baron.
As the elevator struck bottom somewhere with a heavy jerk, the scout heard a piece of wood break from its fastenings and come down on him. With quick presence of mind he dropped flat to the floor. The wood struck so heavily that it would have crushed his head like an eggshell if it had hit it fair; but by throwing himself flat the scout escaped with only a bruising of his shoulders, as one end of the timber struck against the elevator wall and was partly stayed by it.
“Trapped!” gritted the scout.
He drew his revolver, waiting for the next move of his enemies; for he was sure this had not happened by chance.