“Him want to know if Pa-e-has-ka speak true when he say he ketch um Wah-coo-tah,” answered the girl. “Me tell um me here, but that me no tell Pa-e-has-ka way into secret passage, and that mebbyso me get ’way before Nuzhee Mona come.” She gave a low, sibilant laugh. “Me fool Lawless,” she added. “Bymby me get back, fool um some more. Me hate um! Him my father, but me hate um. He try sell me to Ponca warrior for five ponies.”
“Wah-coo-tah,” spoke up Dell, “will have to get away from here and liberate Nomad and Wild Bill and ourselves before sunrise. If she waits beyond that time it will be too late.”
“Mebbyso Lawless no let Nuzhee Mona go till Wah-coo-tah get through secret door. We got plenty time. Lawless give Wah-coo-tah chance to save herself.”
Silence fell for a space, and then the scout took the candle from his pocket, lighted it, and opened one of the provision-bags.
They all felt the need of food and water, and began a leisurely meal, relying on Wah-coo-tah’s confidence that Nuzhee Mona—whatever that mystical name represented—would not be released until she had had a chance to effect her escape.
In the midst of their meal, they were all three startled by a perceptible quivering of the rocks about them, followed by a muffled explosion that rolled like distant thunder.
A cry fell from Wah-coo-tah’s lips, and she leaped to her feet excitedly.
Loosened stones could be heard crashing from the roof of the level to the floor.
“What is it?” exclaimed Dell, in consternation.
“Wah-coo-tah!” cried Buffalo Bill, springing up and catching the Indian girl by the arm. “Is this Lawless’ work? What is he doing?”