She screwed her face into a vinegary smile. “Nicholas,” she said, “when I git ye there I’ll have ye jes’ that fur on the road home. Don’t think I ain’t goin’ to take ye back with me, fer I am; you’re goin’ with me back to Kansas City, there to be my true and lovin’ husband, er I’ll whale the hide off ye.”
They helped themselves to the best of the weapons to be found on the battlefield.
The way was open before them now, and they set out across the mesa, hastening on toward the house of John Latimer.
Buffalo Bill was as anxious as any one to reach that house. He felt reasonably sure that Latimer had been taken there by the young man and the young woman, and it seemed that there some explanation might be found of the things that had mystified him.
The afternoon was waning when they reached it.
Though the house seemed tenantless, horses were in the stable. The scout was sure they were the horses he had seen ridden by the mysterious young man and young woman.
When he advanced with Nomad and Pizen Kate to the house, he found the doors locked. This was but another proof, however, that the house had been visited during his absence, for when he had left it, shortly after the raid of the Redskin Rovers, the doors had stood wide open.
Buffalo Bill was on the point of forcing one of the windows, when he heard a sound over his head, and glancing up quickly, he beheld in the window above him the face of the mysterious young woman.
The head was withdrawn instantly, and neither Nomad nor Pizen Kate saw it.
“Waugh!” cried Nomad, when informed of it. “Ef it’s ther female that trapped you, and I reckon trapped me, look out fer more happenin’s.”