Nomad cackled out his queer little laugh, and glanced at Latimer. “Buffler,” he said, “I been achin’ ter tell ye why I went ter thet house; but now I ain’t goin’ ter tell ye till we git ther ag’in. I’m goin’ ter su’prise ye with it.”
“You can’t say, Nomad, if you know anything about that young man and young woman I saw there?”
“Buffler, not a thing. I never knowed sich critters war thar.”
Buffalo Bill again asked John Latimer what he knew of them; and Latimer, as before, declared his complete ignorance, although there was something in his manner when he said it which seemed strange and unnatural.
However, ever since his capture, Latimer had acted more and more as if he were displeased with Buffalo Bill. He had been silent and reticent, and apparently filled with morbid gloom. And he no more talked of the Redskin Rovers and the outlaws, which had been his excuse for asking Buffalo Bill to come out to his home.
It will be recalled that he had written many complaints to the authorities about the raids made by outlaws and Indians on his place, and because of these complaints Buffalo Bill had been sent there. Now he had dropped that subject, and Buffalo Bill began to wonder if Latimer himself were not in some way mixed up with the very bands of whom he had so lustily complained. It would not have been the first time in his experience when such a thing had been revealed.
In the camp in the border of the hills the little party remained until after daylight, and they did not set forth until from the highest peak the scout had taken a survey of the country and had determined that the pursuing Indians were not near.
With the coming of day, Pizen Kate became voluble once more. She developed a surprising tendency to ask sharp questions of John Latimer.
“I don’t think that you’re what you’re pertendin’ to be,” she told him. “I think that you’re jes’ a deceiver. All men aire deceivers, but they deceive in diff’rent ways. Nicholas deceived me by makin’ me think that he loved me so well he couldn’t never leave me, and then he up and run away fust chance he got. But you’re diff’rent from him. You’re a-deceivin’ as to who ye aire, and as to why you’re livin’ out in this country. Now, ain’t ye?”
“Woman, stop your chatter!” he cried.