An exclamation of anger escaped Lawless.
“Turn her loose, at once!” he commanded.
“I shall keep her as a hostage for my own safety,” said the scout. “Whatever fate comes to me, will come to her; and if you do not instantly leave this level, she shall suffer.”
Lawless called out something in the Cheyenne tongue. Wah-coo-tah answered, and her words were like the screech of an enraged panther.
“Wah-coo-tah,” went on Lawless, “is ready to die to help her father, if need be. Your fate will come to you at sunrise, Buffalo Bill, and I will have my revenge, even if it is necessary to sacrifice the girl. That ought to show you I mean business.”
“It shows me that you are a more contemptible scoundrel than I had supposed,” answered the scout calmly. “Are you going to get out of this level?”
“At once. Farewell, Buffalo Bill, king of scouts! The government will look far before another man is found to take your place. When you crossed the path of Captain Lawless, of the Forty Thieves, you tackled a bigger job than you had imagined.”
Sounds of retreating steps came along the level, fading abruptly into silence.
“He doesn’t think much of Wah-coo-tah,” said Dell, “from the way he talks.”
“He doesn’t think much of any one but himself,” replied the scout. “What did he say to you, Wah-coo-tah?”