“I reckon he took his crack at ye, Schnitz, frum behind thet bush over thar,” commented the trapper, looking round narrowly. “Et’s a good thing fer ye thet et’s all o’ twenty yards to thet bush; ef’t had been nearer he’d a hogged ye. Pistols allus shoot high at a leetle distance; which is why ye got his lead on ther top o’ yer head, instid o’ right through et. Funny he didn’t think o’ thet, an’ make a clost enough examination ter find out.” “I am guessing dot he vos in a hurry,” said the baron. “He vandted to make a gitavay kvick, as somepoty mighdt haf heard him.” “Schnitzenhauser is probably right about that,” Buffalo Bill agreed. “The rascal couldn’t tell but that the shot would be heard, and bring some one; and it’s a safe gamble that he wouldn’t want to be seen here.” “Oh, he toughdt I vos deadt, all righdt, unt so dit I; aber I ditn’t knowed eenyt’ings apoudt idt. Vhen I gome to mineselluf pack, I haf a headaches vot you readt apoudt, I pet you. Ach! Idt shoombs yidt, yoost like a grasshobber kicking py der insite uff my heat.” Buffalo Bill gave the German a sharp look, observing that his florid face was a bit less highly colored than usual. “I don’t know but you ought to be at the hotel in bed, baron,” he suggested. “Neffer!” cried the undaunted German. “I aind’t gifing oop undil ve findt dhis veller. Cody, you unt Nomad ar-re as goodt as Inchuns vor drailing; see uff you gan findt der willain’s dracks.” They began the search; but the ground was like flint, and they accomplished nothing near the cache. When they picked up footprints, they were at some distance, but in the direction of the flight of the man who had shot the baron. “Ah!” said the scout. “Here he goes!” “Waugh! K’rect ye air, Buffler. Now we’ll hang to ’em. Seems thet he was p’inted out into the hills.” “I pedt you,” whispered the baron, staring round as if he expected to see Jackson Dane start up out of the brush, “he vos going furdher on, to pury dose puckskin pags ag’in. You see, he iss disdurped py me, unt gan’t hidt dhem here no more; so he iss loogking vor anodder blace.” It was a very reasonable supposition. In this opinion, they began to follow the tracks; though even there the trailing was far from easy. The baron acknowledged that he was not enough of a “hoondting tog” to do anything with a trail so dim; but the scout and trapper were as keen-eyed and experienced as Indians, and they went along fast enough. When they had gone half a mile, covering the ground slowly, they came to what seemed to be another cache. It was in a sandy place. All round it the sand had been smoothed down--a bush having been drawn over it; so that whatever footprints had been made were wiped out. Even the “cache” had been covered in that manner; but as a good deal of sand had been taken out in digging the hole, all of which could not be put back when the hole was filled in, a slight mound was the result.