Standing silently before Markham and Buffalo Bill for a moment, he turned slowly and exhibited his back. Great, livid welts crossed and recrossed the coppery skin. “Well!” exclaimed Markham, as the Apache faced about. “So you were captured by Geronimo, were you, Chico?” “_Si_,” snarled the red man. “Where?” “Blind gully off Tres Alamos Gulch.” “Fifteen miles away!” muttered Markham. “When was this?” “Last sleep.” “When were you released?” “Mebbyso, hours, so many.” Chico lifted four dirty fingers. “How many bucks with Geronimo?” Chico thrust both hands into the air ten times. “A hundred, eh? He’s got most all of those who jumped the reservation with him under his wing. Did you learn anything?” “No; but Geronimo he send this, with message for Pa-e-has-ka.” Chico dipped one hand into the pocket of the overalls and brought out a pair of rusty steel handcuffs. “Thunder!” muttered Markham. “What trick is the sly old scoundrel up to now? Why did he send those to Buffalo Bill?” Laying the handcuffs on the table, Chico groped about in the depths of his pocket and brought forth a small key, which he laid beside the iron bracelets. “Geronimo say he take um handcuffs from Bascomb, take um key from dead pony-soldier,” explained Chico. “Geronimo say for Pa-e-has-ka to take iron bracelets, then bymby Geronimo find Pa-e-has-ka and put um on him. Geronimo make powwow before he turn Chico loose.” The scout laughed grimly. “If the old reprobate ever comes near enough to me to put those on,” said he, “he’ll never live to enjoy the sight of me in the things. They’re my bracelets, I reckon?” “All same. Geronimo send um.” Buffalo Bill took up the handcuffs and the key and put them in his pocket. “You _sabe_ Pa-e-has-ka’s pards, Wolf-killer and Little Cayuse?” he asked. “Me _sabe_” “Did you see or hear anything of them?” Chico shook his head. “Probably the party that did the business for Bascomb’s escort haven’t all joined Geronimo as yet,” suggested Markham. “Probably not; although one must have joined, or Geronimo wouldn’t have the come-alongs.” “Are they the same cuffs that were put on Bascomb?” “They look like them, but I wouldn’t take my oath that they’re the same. When the man from Bowie met the escort and asked me to come here, in view of possible Indian troubles, we hadn’t been long on the trail to Apache.” “I see.” Markham had got up and was buckling on his belt and army Colts. “Coming with us, Buffalo Bill?” he queried. “To the blind gully off Tres Alamos Gulch?” “Sure. We’ll make a quick run of it. I don’t hope to find the scoundrelly renegades there, but we may be able to pick up signs and give them a run of it between here and the border. They’ll be trying to head the fugitives off at Fort Huachuca, and there’s a chance--if luck’s on our side.” “Of course I’m coming,” answered the scout. “There’s a chance, as you say. Let’s make the most of it. You’ll take Chico?”