“He could not have been far from the place where we left the canteens and the provisions—perhaps about half-way between there and the end of the level.”
Buffalo Bill went back to the spot indicated by Wild Bill. Flashing the candle about side walls and roof, something met his eyes. He examined it for a moment, and then called Hickok.
What the latter saw, when he gained the scout’s side, were words, written with candle-smoke, on the light-colored stone of the roof:
“Nuzhee Mona!”
“What in Sam Hill do those words mean?” cried Wild Bill.
“I wish I knew,” said the scout. “If we knew the meaning of the words we might get a clue to this tangle. Possibly a friend traced the words.”
“And perhaps an enemy—Lawless, for instance. If he put those words there, Cody, they mean a threat of some kind.”
“The voice we heard in the Alcazar was the voice of a friend; the voice used those two words; it was the hand of that same speaker that pinned that piece of bark to the door of the hotel; and, it naturally follows, the same hand must have put the words on the roof of this tunnel.”
“You make out a good case, Cody, but why all this secrecy? Why doesn’t the person, if really a friend, come out face to face with you and tell you what to expect, instead of dodging around cellars, visiting hotel doors mysteriously, and then sneaking into the Forty Thieves, and leaving those two words?”
“We don’t know what the woman has to work against, or how she is hampered in her attempts to warn us.”