“Who owns this mine, Mr. Smith?”
“A man by the name of Lawless; Captain Lawless he calls himself.”
The scout started.
“Have you heard of the fellow?” asked Smith eagerly.
“I have heard of a squawman who calls himself by that name, but whom the Indians call ‘Fire-hand.’ He is said to be an out-and-out rascal.”
“Great glory!” cried Smith. “It looks as though I had landed right in the hands of the Philistines. Have you ever seen this Captain Lawless, Buffalo Bill?”
“Never. One of my pards, Little Cayuse, has seen him, but I have not.”
“When will your pard, Little Cayuse, be here?”
The scout’s eyes narrowed.
“What is that to you, Mr. Smith?” he demanded.