The Piute boy, Nomad thought, was probably well away toward Three-ply, on the track of Bernritter; but Buffalo Bill—— Could it be that he also had pulled out, in company with McGowan? This notion gave the old trapper something of a jolt.
Walking over to the counter, he put an inquiry to the clerk.
“Buffalo Bill, Mr. Nomad?” returned the clerk, lifting his eyebrows. “Why, he went away from here half an hour ago. He rode off with a queer-looking character that I took to be a Dutchman.”
The trapper gulped wildly, and a chill of apprehension shot through him.
“Any idee whar Buffler went?” he asked.
“Not the slightest.”
Nomad turned thoughtfully away.
There could be little doubt but that Buffalo Bill had started for the Three-ply Mine. He had also secured the release of the baron and had taken him along.
What was to be done? Just one thing—ride after the scout and the baron and overtake them before they dropped into Bascomb’s ambush.
Nomad started on a rush for the hotel door. At the entrance he paused, suddenly remembering that his spurs were in his room.