Buffalo Bill had never been more puzzled in his life than when he gave up further search there as a useless waste of time. He now commenced a thorough search of the house, asking Latimer’s aid, while Pizen Kate went to the outside, as if she thought she might be in a better position to see there; for she doubtless reasoned that if Nomad was still in the house, and tried to get out of it, he could not easily do so and escape her eyes.
Buffalo Bill’s search was unavailing. Nick Nomad was gone.
CHAPTER VI.
INDIAN TREACHERY.
When Buffalo Bill gave up his profitless search and came out of the house he saw a mounted Indian ride up to the gate, some distance off, where he met John Latimer. The Indian was a painted and plumed specimen of his race, and, altogether, a glittering and jaunty figure, as he sat on his mustang, talking with Latimer.
Only a few words were said by the two men, and then the Indian wheeled his mustang and galloped away, his feathers flying, and the sun shining with brilliant effect on his beaded garments and on the painted spots on his horse.
Buffalo Bill had emerged from the big house by a side entrance. He hurried now round to the front, where he expected to meet Latimer returning from this talk with the redskin. Latimer had gone from the gate in another way, however; and the scout did not see him for several minutes, and then it was in the house itself.
“What about that Indian, Latimer?” was his question.
Latimer stared blankly. “What Indian?” he said.
“Why, the one you met out there by the gate a while ago.”
“I have seen no Indian!” said Latimer.