“I heard, before I came here, that Tim Benson is a woman!” The scout sat pondering this. “Would that be any reason why Juniper Joe should want to shoot you?” “He knows that I am here after Tim Benson!” “I see.” “And you’ll see that I’m right, if you arrest Mrs. Joe,” Dane declared, confidently. “That’s what I want you to do; and the sooner the better.” “Why your hurry?” “It will keep other fellows from being held up and killed by that couple,” he explained suavely. The scout sat looking at him. “This gives me a new idea,” he said. “I thought it would.” “For one thing”--he still looked at Dane--“I think I ought to arrest _you_; but--hold on, the door is locked, remember!--I am not going to do it--right now.” Jackson Dane, who had leaped up with a startled look, dropped nervously back into his chair. “You’re humorous--at times.” “Think so?” “It would turn out to be a boomerang, if you did arrest me and it was found then that I am just what I claim to be; the town would sure have the laugh on you. But you do what I say, and you won’t regret it. Go up to that cabin and arrest Mrs. Joe; and don’t delay about it.” “Why the haste?” Buffalo Bill asked again. “Because I have a feeling that she isn’t going to stay long in Blossom Range, and now is your chance to get Tim Benson by doing it.” He stood up and put on his hat. “I am ready to go, now,” he said. “You will do as you please, of course.” “I’m pretty sure to.” “Well, think it over, anyway. Perhaps you’ll come round to my opinion.” The scout put the key in the lock, and opened the door. “So, you don’t intend to arrest me?” said Dane, as he passed out into the hall. “Not right now,” the scout told him. “That’s kind of you, anyhow.” He laughed lightly, and ran for the head of the stairs. Well behind him, yet keeping the little man in sight, Buffalo Bill trailed him through the streets of Blossom Range, observing that Dane had pulled his hat down over his eyes, and turned up the collar of his coat, as if he did not wish to be recognized. But Blossom Range was a bustling place, and men were too busy to pay much attention to pedestrians; so that, apparently, Jackson Dane was not given a second look by any one, as he passed along. The scout’s interest was quickened when Dane turned to the Casino, as the little local theatre was called, and went in by the entrance marked “Private.” Reaching that door, the scout stood listening; then went in, also; but quietly. In a room above, as he stood on the stairs, he distinctly heard Jackson Dane talking with the blonde beauty whose name had been given as Vera Bright. “Well, that’s singular!” was his thought. “He is talking with the same girl that Mrs. Juniper Joe had a confab with! I wonder if there is a connection here?” But he could not understand what Dane and the girl were saying.