“I don’t, but I know he’s a rascal. My name’s Silas Deland.”
“But I don’t know you,” the young man protested. “What do you want to capture that man for?”
“Same as you do—to see that he gits what’s properly deservin’. Shall we two jog along together, er do we sep’rate right here? Maybe I could help ye. I was told you’d been shot; and when I seen ye go, I recognized the fact that you wasn’t fit, and was takin’ some mighty big resks.”
Denton, who had been holding on by sheer strength, felt a sudden weakness, which he conquered.
“I think I’d prefer to go on alone, unless you can tell me just where I can find that man, and who he is.”
“If I knew where to find him, I’d be happier than a fool; but I don’t know. As to who he is, I don’t mind in tellin’ you that among them that knows him best he’s called Panther Pete. So I’ve been told.”
“Panther Pete!”
“Ho, ho! I see you’ve heerd that name?”
“The name of the leader of the Black Bandits!”
“Jest the same feller. He cut up sich blood-and-thunder shines over in the Bittersweet country that he had to light out of there. Buffalo Bill was after him hard at the time. He disappeared, dropped out of sight, and then reappeared here, callin’ himself Buffalo Bill, and doin’ ther things you’ve heard hereabout. Well, that’s him, Panther Pete—the blackest, meanest, most contemptible villain that walks under the sky. He was down in Arizony onct, when I was there, and so I know that much about him.”