The king of scouts regarded the villain curiously. “You think you know something that I have not yet discovered,” he said. “It’s about the cave, I am sure.” “Yes, it is about the cave, Cody. Your expression assures me that you do not know where this cave is. It would be surprising if you did. I am acquainted with this section as well as the next man, and yet I did not know until yesterday that there was a cave in these parts.” “I’ll have to acknowledge that I don’t know where the cave is located,” replied the king of scouts, “but that fact does not prevent me from thinking that Bart Angell will find it. He is as good a trailer as a Navaho, and he’ll follow the redskins to the cave if, as I believe, they have gone there.” Rixton Holmes shook his head. “You don’t understand the layout, Cody. The trail will be lost long before your partner gets within a half mile of the cave.” “Well,” said Buffalo Bill resignedly, “if Bart fails to find the hole, he’ll come back, and then we’ll put our heads together and try to solve the riddle.” Holmes made no reply, but he winked at Raven Feather, who during the conversation had been gazing placidly at the rafters of the roof. Buffalo Bill began to grow uneasy. He did not like the attitude of his prisoners. It was evident that they did not look upon their situation as serious. It was also evident that they were expecting assistance. From whom could it come? He puckered his lips in an effort to reach a solution of the cheerful demeanor of Holmes and the chief. Ah, the explanation of the situation was at hand. The prisoners expected help from Crow-killer, the chief’s brother. The three Indians would reach the cave and tell Crow-killer what had happened and what they feared. Crow-killer, more shrewd and intelligent than the three braves, would conclude that the slayer of the four Navahos would go to the cabin and attack the chief and the white man, Holmes. If he succeeded in this venture, then he would likely take the trail to find the girl. He was now, in all probability, on the way to the cave. Good; for while he, Buffalo Bill, the mighty warrior, was following the trail of the three braves, Crow-killer and the braves would be hurrying to the cabin by another route. Thus reasoned the king of scouts, but his satisfaction over his deductions did not last long. He called to mind the remark of Holmes that Bart Angell would not return. The remark carried the implication that he would be ambushed somewhere on the way to the cave. “Hang it,” muttered the scout, in marked vexation, “I wish I could guess what is going on outside of this cabin.” Rixton Holmes spoke up at this juncture. “I would like to tell you a story, Cody,” he said, with a half chuckle. “It is pretty long, but it will serve to make the time pass pleasantly while you are waiting for your pard. A few years ago——”