“Der same. Dhey vas kvarreling vhen on der sdairs at der Casino, yoost pefore he gome avay.” “But you didn’t see her follow him.” “I tidn’t. Budt iss idt a sign dot she ton’t? She mighdt haf; and she mighdt haf done dhis shooding here.” “What about those big tracks Nomad is following? They were not made by a woman.” The baron jumped up and began to circle round the sandy spot, going farther and farther out, like a dog trying to pick up a lost scent. At last he whooped a discovery. “Idt vos der vomans, shure!” he howled, as Buffalo Bill hurried to him. “See der dracks uff dhem liddle shoon.” The tracks which the baron had discovered were small, as if they had been made by a woman. In their haste, the scout and Nomad had overlooked them, or rather had not searched long enough to find them, after discovering the larger tracks. “Idt iss a skinch dot idt iss der vomans!” said the baron, his face shining. “Vot you t’ink?” The scout was following the tracks. They led off in a direction opposite to those taken by the larger tracks; but circled after a while, and also turned toward the town. “Vale, vot do you t’ink uff idt?” cried the baron. They continued to follow the tracks, which led them on toward the town. But they had gone but a few hundred yards when a rifle cracked, and a bullet sped with a whining sound past the scout’s head. He ducked and fell flat. “Down!” he urged. “You are hidt?” the baron squawked, as he also dropped to the ground. “No; but that came within an inch of me.” “Py yiminy, dhis iss some excidemendts vot you readt apoudt!” “You are getting your full share to-day, baron.” “I pet you!” They stopped talking, to listen; but they heard nothing. “Iss he caming?” the baron whispered. “I think not; I don’t hear anything.” “Who vos idt?” “Ask me something easy.” “He shodt at you?” “Well, it seemed like it, didn’t it?” The baron began to crawl off. “Whereaway?” “I’m going to loogk vor dot willain.” “He may be waiting for us to show ourselves; it seems likely.” In spite of this, the reckless German crept off to a slight knoll, where, in the midst of bushes, he lifted his head, with his hat off, and took a look. “Better keep your hat on,” the scout warned; “that bandage on your head makes you conspicuous.” The baron ducked down with a “yeep.” “Did you see him?” Buffalo Bill asked. “No; but I ditn’t vanted him to seen me!” After listening some time longer, the scout joined the baron; but though they looked about as well as they could, they saw no one. “He thought he killed me, and let it go at that; or he feared that he didn’t, and that I would get him if he came on. One guess is as good as another.” “I gan make a guesses dot peadts all uff dhem: I guess dot ve tond’t knowed noddings apoudt idt.” While they were talking in low tones, they heard a crashing among the brush, but in the direction of the town. “Vot?” the German gasped.