Cayuse and Nomad took the lead to the gully. This was followed almost to the point where it entered the valley, and there the horsemen spurred out of it, crossed two or three low hills, and rounded up in a small arroyo. During the entire journey from the old shaft nothing had been seen of Bascomb or any of his Indians. “Whar d’ye reckon ther reds aire, Buffler?” asked Nomad. “They are probably lying low and waiting for their work to-morrow,” was the reply. The scout turned to the baron. “Where does McGowan sleep, baron?” he inquired. “In a leedle room off der office,” answered the baron. “Where do Bernritter and Jacobs sleep?” “Pernritter shleeps by der bunk-house, und Chacops shleeps in der laporadory glose to der cyanit-danks.” “Good. Cayuse, you and the baron come up this hill with me. Nomad, keep your eye on the horses.” The scout, followed by the Dutchman and the little Piute, gained the crest of the hill. The camp lay below them, with all lights extinguished save those in the mill. The stamps were still pounding away, powdering ore and releasing gold which Bernritter, Jacobs, and their gang were planning to get away with on the following day. “Where’s the office, baron?” went on the scout. “Point it out to me.” “Dere,” said the baron, stretching out his hand. “Id iss dot leedle puilding oop der site oof der hill.” The office, being of whitewashed adobe, stood out plainly against the dark slope of the hill. “You see it, Cayuse?” asked the scout. “Wuh!” said the boy. “I want you to go down there, Cayuse, and wake up McGowan. Do this quietly, so that no one in the camp finds out about it. Tell McGowan that Buffalo Bill wants to see him at once. Then bring him here.” “Wuh.” Without waiting for further words, Little Cayuse slipped down the descent, while the scout and the baron turned back to the place where Nomad was watching the horses. “Vell,” remarked the baron, “I couldt haf done dot schust so vell as Cayuse.” “I’m afraid not, baron. You would probably have had to stop and say how do you do to Frieda. Until we take care of these bullion thieves you must forget all about the girl.” “I can’t do dot. She iss a leedle sunpeam, I tell you for sure. Dere iss only vone girl in dis vorldt for me, und dot’s Frieda. Somedime, pefore long, meppy, Frieda vill be _Frau_ von Schnitzenhauser. Ach, vat a habbiness!” “Waugh!” grunted Nomad. “Ther baron hes been chewin’ loco-weed. Wimmen gits ombrays inter trouble, an’ ef et hadn’t been fer thet thar Frieda ther baron wouldn’t hev rode away from ther Three-ply with thet bar o’ cyanid bullion.” “I don’d care aboudt dot,” averred the baron stoutly. “Frieda is vort’ anyt’ing vat habbens to me.” CHAPTER VII. LAYING PLANS. Little Cayuse was entirely successful in his errand to the Three-ply camp. It was not long before he returned to the scout, bringing McGowan with him.