It was a study in human nature to watch the effect of this revelation. It held singular proof of the fear which the names of Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill had inspired in such men. They were almost in a panic, some of them jerking the heads of their horses round as if they wished to ride away as quickly as they could.
Black John had the buckskin bag of emeralds at the moment in an inner pocket of his coat, but he did not mention that to them. He had made up his mind to keep the emeralds for himself.
Another desire had come into his heart—the desire to rid himself forever of the pursuit of Buffalo Bill and his companions. Buffalo Bill had an unpleasant way of taking a trail and staying with it until he accomplished what he set out for. To stop Buffalo Bill it would be necessary to kill him. Of that Black John was certain. So now he had planned to compass the death of Buffalo Bill and his comrades, and to capture the girl.
If the girl was captured and the emeralds were not found on her, that could not be charged to him; and if she should admit that they had been hidden, and should point out the place, and then they were not found, that could not be charged against him.
Altogether, he fancied he had worked out a clever plan, and at once proposed it.
“Ride on,” he said, “and I’ve got a proposition to talk over as we go.”
He stared at the prisoner through the holes of his black half mask, and Bruce Clayton returned the stare with interest.
It was a strange-looking cavalcade that moved on—the prisoner bound and tied to his horse in the midst of those masked figures.
Black John unfolded his plan:
“We can lay fer ’em and trap ’em, and git the emeralds from the girl, and at the same time wipe out Buffalo Bill and the devils that aire with him. It’s the trick to play.”