Gazing steadily at the masked man, the intrepid border king thus voiced his opinion of the murderer: “I have met with all sorts of reptiles in my time, but never one who was so meanly detestable as yourself. You slimy, rotten, crawling apology for a human being, why don’t you blaze away? I’d rather slip up the flume than remain a minute longer in your company. The vilest degenerate that ever sucked air into his lungs is a saint alongside of you.” Quick as a flash, the now thoroughly incensed villain raised the revolver, which had been slightly lowered while the king of scouts was speaking, and fired. The bullet cut a lock from the wounded scout’s temple, whereat he laughed. “This is no laughing matter,” growled the assassin. “You escaped that time, but I’ll get you with the next bullet.” “Maybe you will,” composedly responded the other, “but you’ll get through with your business with me before you really try to kill me. I’m on to you, Mister Man, and if I hadn’t guessed that you are not yet ready to extinguish my light, I would never have invited you to cut loose.” The murderer lowered his pistol. His expression of hate gave way to one of admiration. “You are the limit, Cody,” he grudgingly remarked. “You are sharp, all right, but you’ll need all your wits, and a cartload besides, to get out of the fix you are now in.” “Think so?” said Buffalo Bill calmly. “I do. I have you where I want you. Your partner is dead, and we are hundreds of miles from a human habitation. When our little séance is over, one man will be the only living thing in these solitudes.” “How about the girl? Isn’t she near by?” The masked man scowled. “Yes, she is not far away,” he admitted, “and much good may the information do you.” “You have left her up the ravine somewhere, I suppose?” insinuated the scout. “No matter where I have left her. You’ll never see her. But a truce to this profitless chin music. I am going to ask you a few questions, and I have an idea that you will answer them promptly, for as long as you continue on that line I’ll hold back the bullet meant for your brain.” “I am in the humor for frankness,” said Buffalo Bill easily. “Fire away.” The masked murderer showed surprise, but he quickly repressed the emotion. “You were a friend of Matt Holmes, were you not?” he asked. “He had no better friend. I had known him for twenty years.” “Did you know all his secrets?” The question was eagerly asked. “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.” As he spoke, the king of scouts was feeling about his person for a match with which to relight his pipe. “I’ll come down to cases. Did he tell you when you met him last night that he was looking for the coming of an enemy?” “Yes.” The masked man started slightly. “What did he say about me?” The questioner leaned forward, the eyes behind the mask winking rapidly.