CHAPTER IV.
SUSPICIONS.
Buffalo Bill and his pards tried to “jump a trail” that afternoon and evening, without success.
The scout talked with Brown, the wounded man in the hospital; but got no additional information.
“The two fellers was so masked,” said Brown, “that I couldn’t tell if they was black, white, or red. The surprise was so complete, anyway, that maybe I wouldn’t have noticed. We wasn’t expectin’ trouble—leastways, I wasn’t; for I allowed the agents would be fooled complete, and would tackle the stage, if they done anything. Then, fu’st thing I knew, there was them masked devils whanging away at us with repeating rifles. Austin was killed; and I got this hole in my side. Your Dutch pard was gamy, and clipped one of the agents. I could swear to that; because, as I drapped, I heard the feller rip out a cuss word, and saw him reel back. But he didn’t fall; so, p’raps the wound didn’t amount to much. One of ’em tried to down the Dutchman; but he got away. That’s about all; except that we lost everything. They even took my hardware and Austin’s, with our cartridge belts. Then they drove the burros away. I had my nose ag’inst the yearth, playin’ dead fer all I was wu’th at that time, so I didn’t see ’em go, but I heard ’em. About the next thing I knew, your friend was bendin’ over me. I got purty weak, and I reckon I had fainted. And that’s all.”
“Did you see what sort of men they were, as to size?” the scout asked. “You might have done that when they were getting your weapons.”
“I was too busy playin’ dead jest then to notice clost,” Brown admitted. “But I did see that one was tall and t’other seemed medium size. It was the small one that was wounded.”
“Did you notice their voices?”
“Not in p’tickler.”
“You were at Juniper Joe’s wedding?”