Nomad turned with beaming, wrinkled face to the scout, his blue eyes bright with excitement. “Seems cl’ar ernough, Buffler,” he commented. “I reckon Dane went to Juniper’s; got inter ther cabin, knocked down the woman, and tied up Juniper, then hiked with the gold. “Budt,” said the German, “I tought dot Yuniper Yoe haf shipped all uff his goldt avay py der Vells Vargo Gompany.” “He told me,” said the scout, “that he had made another strike; and he showed me some of the nuggets he had got. They were handsome.” “So-o?” “I reckon et’s a shore thing that Dane went to Juniper’s an’ got his goldt,” averred Nomad. “Thet don’t prove that Juniper Joe was right in claimin’ thet Dane is this pizen tarantler, Tim Benson; but et goes a long ways toward it.” “Dot iss so,” the baron admitted. Buffalo Bill could but agree to the same thing. “Now,” said the baron, putting away the pipe he had dropped, and had not smoked, “I am readty to leadt you to der sbot vhere I am shoodted, unt vhere vos der gache. Uff ve sdrike a drail dhere, ve gan voller idt, unt maype findt oudt somet’ing’s vort’ vhiles. I t’ink, py yiminy, dot ve ar-re on der righdt dracks, unt dot Shackson Dane iss Dim Penson.” “Do you think you’re equal to it?” Buffalo Bill asked. “Ach! Dot pullet voundt iss only a sgratch! Uff I sday me pehint now, I am going to vorry me indo some sicknesses. Ve ar-re going to haf some excidemendt now, I pet you.” “Allus huntin’ excitement, baron!” said Nomad, with a smile. “Et’s goin’ ter be ther death o’ ye yit.” “Uff so-o, I vill die habby.” CHAPTER VII. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. The three pards passed Juniper Joe’s cabin on foot. Though they attracted some attention as they went along, they were not followed. It had been heralded over Blossom Range that Juniper Joe’s cabin had been robbed in the night, and he and his wife injured. As a consequence, sensation lovers and the overcurious were prowling around in numbers in the vicinity of the cabin. But it was closed. The scout and his pard avoided these people; and on the hills beyond the cabin proceeded to lose themselves to view, in the brush and trees. They had deviated several points from a direct line to the spot named by the baron, until they were out of sight; then the baron straightened away for their destination, leading rapidly. When they reached the place where he had been shot, they found proofs of the truth of his story. The hole where the gold had been placed, then removed, had been but partly filled in. The spot where the baron had fallen when the bullet struck him could also be seen. He pointed it out with trembling pride. “Himmel! Vhen I am shot it seemed dot der dop uff my headt vly off; unt dhen I ditn’t knowed noddings votsoefer.”