“You certainly will,” cut in the girl grimly, before the sentence could be finished. “And now,” she coolly proceeded, “I would thank you to unbuckle your belt and let your weapons drop to the ground. I mean business,” she continued, in a hard, menacing voice. Rixton Holmes gnashed his teeth in the impotence of his wrath and disgust. The position was ridiculous, to be thus held up by a weak girl! The fact that she had not immediately insisted upon compliance with her stern order caused the villain to breathe more freely. His cunning came to the surface. He resolved to prolong the decisive move, hoping to catch her off her guard. “Hang it, Myra,” he said, “you are a thoroughbred. Can’t we come to an amicable understanding?” He looked at her eagerly as he spoke. She shook her head. “No,” was her response, “I will make no more bargains with you. I know you now, and I shall never trust you again. You haven’t obeyed me. Is it possible that you failed to guess what would happen if you refused to unbuckle that belt of yours? You would die.” She advanced a step, and the muzzle of her revolver was on a line with the villain’s forehead, and not more than three feet from it. With the quickness of lightning, Holmes lowered his head and propelled his body toward her. The pistol exploded, but the bullet passed him by. The next instant Holmes had her by the wrists. Myra Wilton screamed, and the outcry was followed by a series of savage yells. Releasing the girl, the villain wheeled, and beheld a score or more of Indians coming up the bank of the ravine. CHAPTER V. BUFFALO BILL’S ESCAPE. Rixton Holmes swore frightfully when his eyes fell on the Indians. He knew them, and they knew him. They were a part of the band of Raven Feather, the chief who had, until very recently, been both his ally and tool. They were coming toward him with friendly intentions. He had expected their arrival at the cave, for Raven Feather had sent for them, but they had come long before the time announced by the chief’s messenger. The villain found himself in a disturbing quandary. If he remained to receive them, his cowardice and treachery in respect of the chief and Crow-killer would be discovered, and he would probably lose his life, and Myra Wilton would fall into Raven Feather’s hands. On the other hand, if he ran away, he would lose the girl, and his scheme to win a fortune would come to naught. A moment’s consideration decided the matter for him. Before the Navahos reached the platform he was out of sight in the thick bushes on the eastward side of the cave. Down the steep hill he went, stumbling, falling, receiving many bruises and cuts until his feet struck the bed of the ravine.