He drew a metal whisky flask from his pocket and poured some of the whisky down Denton’s throat.
“Oh, ho! You ain’t dead, ’tany rate! You’re comin’ round. Nothing like this here wine of life to put a man’s breathin’ apparatus to work when it’s gone on a sudden strike. Fer myself, though, I never teches it, unless I’m snake bit, er dyin’; and I only prescribes it in oncommon needy cases, like this here. You’re comin’ round! Well, now, mebbe, you’ll have more respect for yer humble servant. And we’ll go huntin’ that girl together, so we will.”
He gave Denton some more of the powerful stimulant, and was pleased by his signs of returning animation.
When Denton opened his eyes to consciousness again, the first thing he was aware of was that the queer stranger was sitting before him in the darkness, chuckling like some strange animal, and offering him a drink of whisky out of a metal bottle.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
IN A WEB OF LIES.
Ellen West rode forth from Scarlet Gulch in doubt, with Panther Pete, believing him to be Buffalo Bill, a man she felt she ought to honor, yet troubled by unpleasant forebodings.
He had told her that her father, who was working a claim in the Blue Hills, some distance away, wished her to come there, and had sent him to escort her.
When they were beyond the town, he said:
“Miss West, I didn’t want to tell you, but your father is not well.”
“Not well?” she said, alarmed. “You mean he is very sick, dying perhaps?”