A quick, meaning glance passed between Myra Wilton and Buffalo Bill. The latter, without looking at Holmes, said harshly: “I am most surprised that your cousin has accepted your statement. It must have seemed plausible. And it will do no good to say that what I have said before, that you are a liar.” “Not an ounce of good. You mean well, but you are wrong regarding your humble servant,” replied the villain. “And I came mighty nigh, I shore did, in bein’ off my ca-base on your account,” put in Bart Angell dryly. The villain grinned. “You played in hard luck, all right, but there are good times coming to you.” Then he spoke with simulated seriousness. “In an hour I shall leave the cave for the trail eastward. My cousin will go with me. Raven Feather has been instructed to hold both of you here for a week. Then you will be released. If you are inclined, you can come to Denver, where I will be pleased to give you whatever satisfaction you may require.” Again, unperceived by the villain, Buffalo Bill, and Myra Wilton exchanged meaning glances. Presently Holmes stooped, whispered something to the girl, whereupon she arose and followed the villain from the apartment. They passed through a narrow opening into a large grotto, at the farther end of which was the trap. The two scouts waited until assured that Holmes was out of hearing distance, and then began to converse in low tones. “The girl is all right,” said Buffalo Bill confidently. “She takes no stock in the fairy tale that Holmes reeled off to her, though, for reasons that we must both appreciate, she is pretending that she believes it as gospel truth. That letter, of course, is a forgery. It was written to deceive the girl. Rixton Holmes will not kill her as he has killed Jared and Matt Holmes if she will consent to marry him. See the point, Bart? He is trying to work himself into her good graces. He dared not attack either my character or yours, but he thinks he has made the riffle, all the same. We are well-meaning, honest men, but we have got the wrong pig by the ear.” Bart Angell gave a snort of disgust. “He’s ther wust specimen of a white man that I ever went up ergin, Cody. An’ ter think he was cute ernuff ter lay ther pair of us by ther heels. I feel like kickin’ myself in twenty-two places. Rats an’ little fishes, but I’m plumb ashamed of myself.” “Are you hurt much?” asked Buffalo Bill. “No, I got a rap on the coconut when I drapped down ther hole, but I’m feelin’ now in condition ter tackle ther hull murderin’ outfit.” “Did you trail the three Navahos to the cave?” “It ermounts ter ther same thing, Cody. I follered ther trail to ther bottom of ther ravine, and while I war down thar I seen an Injun poke his head out of a hole up ther bank, on ther far side of a big flat rock.” “I have a hunch that our experiences were identical, Bart.”