“You are probably right. There is no other sensible explanation. But why did she leave the room? I requested her to stay until I returned. There is something queer about the affair.” “Maybe she lit out ter hunt you up. Got tired o’ waitin’.” Buffalo Bill went to the rear of the castle, and, not finding the girl, returned to the front, reëntered the building, and searched all the rooms. No sign of the girl anywhere. Alkali Pete had to confess that the matter was beyond him. “Gals aire pecooliar,” he remarked. “Ye never know what they aire plannin’ ter do.” Buffalo Bill did not hear the last words of his comrade. He was walking toward the open front gate, his eyes on the sandy ground. At the edge of the grove of trees he stopped and called to Alkali Pete. “Come on,” he said. “The girl went off this way. I have found her tracks.” The lanky plainsman, his arm in that of Black-face Ned, started for the grove. “There are plenty of other tracks, mostly Indian,” the king of scouts said, “but it was easy to pick out Miss Hayden’s. She has gone down the valley.” “To take a look at that cottonwood, I reckon,” was Alkali Pete’s rejoinder. “Probably. I hope we will find her there, and also that she has discovered that her father has not yet been killed.” The walk to the end of the valley was quickly performed. The surprise of Buffalo Bill was great when he saw, sitting under the cottonwood, Sybil Hayden and her father. Both rose as their eyes fell on the two scouts. With a happy smile the girl spoke. “I have been waiting for you,” she said, as she came forward to meet the king of scouts. Then, as her eyes fell on Black-face Ned, she added: “You have done well.” Her next words were addressed to Alkali Pete, and they were spoken with such warm earnestness that the homely plainsman blushed. “I am so glad you are here and well. You don’t know how badly I felt when I found you had fallen into a trap.” Colonel Hayden, while this talk was going on, was shaking hands with Buffalo Bill. He was in a joyous mood, and the compliments he paid to the valiant king of scouts caused the recipient of them to vigorously shake his head. Sybil relieved his confusion. “You must be anxious to learn how I came here,” she said. “Didn’t you guess what occurred in the room? Thunder Cloud got the use of his hands, and was reaching forward to snatch my pistol when I saw him and fired. My eyes were on the trapdoor while he was working himself free, for I thought I heard a noise below.”