Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Best Bet; Or, A Sure Thing Well Won - Ingraham Prentiss - Страница 11

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A few moments after the departure of Panther Kate from the hotel, Buffalo Bill also left, having received word from Ben Tabor, the Texan, that he wished to have a few words with him in private.

Tabor, as has been stated, was a member of the band of Texans known as the Revolver Riders; and a number of his comrades were in Border City.

Buffalo Bill’s intention on leaving the hotel was to go to his temporary home, some distance out of the town.

“You are going out home, I take it?” said Tabor, addressing the scout when the two met. “Where is your horse? I want to speak with you, and if we ride out together that will give me the chance I want.”

“My horse is at the hotel stable,” said the scout.

“All right. I’ll get mine.”

They parted, to meet again in ten minutes.

“Where is your captain—Dash?” asked Buffalo Bill, as they started on the way to Cody’s cabin, which was distant perhaps five miles from Border City.

The direction took them along a trail passed over a short time before by Panther Kate as she went toward her ranch.

“It is from Captain Dash that I came here to see you,” said Tabor, in reply to the scout’s question.

“To see me?” asked Buffalo Bill in surprise.

“Yes; after the escape of Kent King we went to Santa Fe, and there we remained a week, looking for the gambler; but not finding him, and hearing that he had gone to Denver, the captain determined to go on to his home, being compelled for some reasons to do so, and offered me liberal terms to take half a dozen of our riders and come and seek you, he promising to join us in Colorado as soon as possible.”

“But why should he take so much trouble to send word to me?”

“Because he says you, believing the Gambler Guide dead, would be taken unawares, and he felt that he would attempt your life; but, warned, you could be on the lookout for him; and he sent you this little package, and you will find instructions written inside.”

As the Texan spoke, he handed the scout a small package, which the latter placed in his pocket until he should get home.

“I thank you, Mr. Tabor, for your kindness, but when do you start west?”

“As soon as our horses have had a few days’ rest.”

“Good! I shall set out myself in a few days, and I will accompany you.”

“I am glad to hear that, for we had a dangerous trip of it coming east by ourselves, as we waked up several bands of reds; but listen! There is trouble there—hark!”

A shot was seen to flash out ahead, near a thicket of cottonwoods, and a cry of pain followed.

“Come!” cried the scout, and driving their spurs into their horses, they dashed forward, their revolvers ready for use.

A moment after they came upon a startling scene, for by the starlight they discovered a form lying upon the ground and two men struggling with a third person.

Hearing horses’ hoofs, one of the men turned quickly and fired. At the flash both Buffalo Bill and the Texan replied with a shot. The man dropped in his tracks; while, with a curse, his comrade turned to run into the thicket, with the one he had been struggling with in his arms.

But quick as was his motion, quicker was the act of the Texan, who sent a lasso whirling over his head. With a sudden jerk the fugitive was brought to the ground. Throwing himself from his horse, Buffalo Bill bent over him, and placed his revolver to his head, while he cried:

“It’s Panther Kate he’s got!”

“Yes, Mr. Cody; they lassoed me and jerked me from my horse, and though I managed to draw my pistol and killed one of them, they caught me at last,” said the girl, rising from the ground as the scout released her from the lariat of the Texan, which had encircled her head also.

“Don’t p’int thet durned iron at me, pard, fer I is surrendered,” said the ruffian pleadingly.

“I’ve a mind to let it go off, and save trouble; shall I, Tabor?” asked the scout as the Texan approached, and raised his sombrero politely to Panther Kate, who stood by with folded arms, perfectly cool after her adventure.

“As you please, Cody; I guess nobody’ll mourn for him.”

“Oh, Lordy! Pards, yer wouldn’t do it; I knows yer, Bill Cody, an’ yer heart is too tender.”

“And I know you now, Vagabond Joe. Now tell me why you attacked Panther Kate?”

The villain squirmed as if he did not wish to reply.

“Tell me why you attacked Panther Kate?” the scout demanded, covering the man with a revolver. “What were you and your villainous companions up to?”

“Don’t shoot!” the fellow whined.

“Then speak!”

“Well, yer see, it war this way: We knowed that she had the gold you an’ ther captain put up in that bet you made, and——”

“Your captain?” said the scout.

The man squirmed again.

“Who is your captain—out with it?”

“I calc’late that you know who he is, Buffalo Bill.”

“You mean Kent King, the man I made my bet with—though I did not know at the time he was Kent King—and the man who tried to kill me at the hotel a while ago.”

“Yer got ther best of us, Pard Bill, in that row!”

“Then you were one of the scoundrelly crowd that came in disguise to the hotel to kill me?”

“’Tain’t no use ter lie to you. Yer knows everything,” the rascal whined.

“I do not believe Kent King left the town!” said Panther Kate, who seemed to be made unduly excited by these disclosures. “Was his name really Kent King?”

“That was his name,” the scout answered; “and a greater scamp never went unhung. He intends to kill me, if he can. But what do you know of him, Kate?”

The girl did not answer. It was evident that she was deeply moved by something, but she did not speak. Buffalo Bill turned again to the prisoner.

“If your captain is in the town, you know where he is!” he declared sternly.

“That’s right,” said Tabor. “Blow the devil’s head off if he refuses to tell!”

Buffalo Bill’s revolver was again pointed at the man’s head.

“It would serve him right; he tried to kill me, and——”

“Don’t shoot; I’ll tell all I know,” the man promised.

“Where is your master, Kent King?”

“Does yer know Dandy Daly, ther card sharp?”

“Yes; only too well.”

“Well, ther captain is bunkin’ t’-night at Daly’s cabin.”

“Do you speak true?” asked Tabor.

Buffalo Bill did not need to ask, he saw that the rascal, filled with fear, spoke the truth.

“Is Daly with him?” he asked.

“No; ther captain is there alone to-night.”

“And went there after our little shooting circus at the hotel?” said the scout.

“Right ye aire, ever’ time. You’re allus right, Pard Bill.”

“Come, let us go back to the town, and then out to Daly’s cabin,” said Panther Kate, with strange anxiety.

The scout turned to Vagabond Joe.

“Joe, I can see that you have spoken the truth once. For that you may go free. We are after bigger game—your master!”

Vagabond Joe could scarcely believe that he heard aright.

“Does yer mean it?” he inquired, in bewilderment.

“Yes, you may go, because you have told me the truth.”

Thereupon the scout released the man.

“Bury your dear pards, Joe,” Buffalo Bill commanded. “It’s work we haven’t time for.”

Bringing Panther Kate’s horse to her, she sprang lightly into the saddle, and the three set off at a rapid gallop back to town, leaving the vagabond standing in the road gazing after them. As they disappeared, he gave one glance at his two dead comrades, and with superstitious dread uttered a yell of terror and darted away like a deer.