Not until the victorious scout had removed the villain’s weapons did he light a match. The light exhibited a spectacle that brought a cry of joy from his lips. Ten feet away, with his back against the wall, sat Alkali Pete, rubbing his eyes. “Pete? Alive?” the king of scouts exclaimed, and the answer came dryly: “I shore don’t know. Come over hyer an’ pinch me.” The match went out just as Black-face Ned’s limbs began to twitch. Buffalo Bill sat on the villain’s chest, and said roughly: “Are you going to be quiet, or must I give you a sleeping dose?” “Oh, I’ll be good,” whined the now thoroughly frightened man. “I missed the trick, and I am willing to leave the field to you.” “See that you don’t change your mind.” Lifting the outlaw in his arms, the king of scouts bore him to the side of Alkali Pete. “I am shy on cords,” he said to the lanky plainsman. “Got any about you?” “Ther one that held my wrists is hyer in my lap, an’ when ye ontie my ankles ye’ll shore corral another,” was the reply. “Ah, I am on. You were tied up, and you’ve got your hands loose.” “Ye’re singin’ on ther right key, Buffler.” After the villain had been tied up, the king of scouts asked anxiously: “How are you feeling?” “Sorter down in ther mouth. Made a fool slip when I kem inter the cellar. Thar warn’t any Wild Bill down hyer.” “I know. We were both fooled.” “An’ I never knowed I’d been played fer a sucker ontil a few minutes ago. I struck ther ground, an’ a club struck me. Reckon Black-face Ned opined he’d put me outer business fer good an’ all. Made a big beefsteak thar, son. He shore didn’t know that my head is some thicker nor a paper-shell almond. I hev been a’feelin’ uv ther old cabesa, an’, barrin’ a leetle lump, it’s shore somewhat intact.” “I am glad to hear you say that, Pete,” responded Buffalo Bill earnestly. “I thought you were all in when I discovered that Black-face Ned was here.” The lanky plainsman stood up and stretched himself. “What all’s happened since I ca’mly deposited myself inter the lap of ther enemy?” “I’ll tell you after you have satisfied my curiosity on one point. An Apache was killed here in this cellar after you were downed. Do you know anything about the affair?” “Not a blessed thing, Buffler. I war sleepin’ off my headache when ther killin’ kem off. Ask ther black devil at yer feet, an’ he’ll tell yer what ye want ter know.” “That’s so. Ned”—speaking to the captured outlaw—“what about this Apache? Did you kill him?” “Yes,” was the surly answer. “Had to. I took him for you.” “Then he made a noise coming through the tunnel?” “Enough to put me on my guard. I suppose he thought there was no one here.” “What was his object in coming to the cellar? Do you know, or can you guess?” “I don’t know, and I am not good at guessing. But I do know this: The Indian was Thunder Cloud’s right-hand man, second in command, you understand.”