“Two days sufficed for preparations, and one fine morning, mounted on ponies, we set out across the plains for the mountains. It was not long before I had her full confidence. She told me something that both surprised and vexed me. She had journeyed from her home in Pennsylvania on the say-so of a letter written by a man who was an utter stranger to her. The letter was from Santa Fe, and was signed ‘James Loftus,’ and set forth that, as the attorney of Matt Holmes, her uncle, it was his duty to inform her that her uncle had but a few months to live. He had met with an accident while out hunting, and was now waiting for the end to come. His brother Jared was dead, and she was his only living relative. There was something of the utmost importance, relating to his possessions, which he desired to communicate to her. He dared not trust to the post, for he had an enemy who possessed satanic craft. Therefore, he asked that she come to him, and at once. She could find a guide in Hayes City. The journey was not a hard one, and he hoped to see her before a month had passed. “I know all the law sharps in Santa Fe, or in the Territory, for that matter, and no one of them answers to the name of Loftus. The statement that Holmes had an enemy also made me regard the letter as shady. But I did not voice my suspicions for fear of alarming Miss Wilton. I would guide her to Holmes’ place, and see to it that she met with no harm. I know now that I made a mistake. Better for her had we turned back and never attempted to cross the mountains.” “What! Did ye lose her?” queried Angell, with marked concern written on his homely face. “Yes, I lost her,” replied Buffalo Bill despondingly. “We were within half a mile of her uncle’s cabin, and I had begun to think that my suspicions were groundless, when I heard shots coming from the direction of the cabin. I spurred on ahead, and did not look behind me until I was in sight of the cabin. Then I turned. Miss Wilton was not in sight. Supposing that she had failed to make good time and would soon show herself, I waited. “Soon a shout from the cabin made me turn and face the door. There stood Matt Holmes, as well as ever. I had known him for years, and when he shouted, ‘Look out, Cody, or they’ll get you,’ I ducked my head, and thus escaped a bullet fired from the brush. “The next moment I was on the ground. I got to the cabin, and as soon as I entered, Holmes closed the door. ‘My enemy has found me,’ he explained, ‘and we are goin’ to have a picnic.’ “Hurriedly I informed him that his niece was outside, and that she had come in response to the instructions of a lying letter. The statement was no sooner made than we heard a woman’s scream. I was about to dash for the door, when a bullet fired from behind—the back door must have been open—brought me to the floor. As I fell I heard other shots, saw Holmes rush out of doors, and then I fainted. I came to my senses to find the cabin on fire.