“Who’s the boss of this beehive?” he demanded harshly, fingering his pistol. “You’ll know that I am, if you try any rushin’. Stand back, there! And you, Toby Sam, shet yer yawp, er I’ll fill yer ugly mouth with bullets. Let’s hear what the girl’s got to say.” They clamored for her to speak, but she was mystified, puzzled, chagrined. “I saw them hidden there!” she said. “Then somebody’s dug ’em up!” was the disgusted statement. “Somebody seen ’em hid here, and dug ’em up; and where they aire now ther Lord knows; but we’ve seen the last of them em’rulds, unless the young lady is lyin’.” They stared at her, and at Black John, who stood in front of her. “Mebbe we kin hit the trail of the feller that done it?” Black John suggested. He set to work to do that, but pointed out the trail of the scouts, instead of his own. He could afford to laugh at these men, now that he had the gems. He was already wondering how he was to get away from them, and take the girl with him. CHAPTER XL. CODY AND NOMAD. Buffalo Bill had seen the movements of the outlaws under Black John, and had discovered the ambush laid for him on the hillside. He had heard the outcry made when Nomad escaped, and then he had caught a glimpse of the old trapper getting away, with his shaggy-headed horse. The great scout was too wise to show himself; he was but one man, and the road agents numbered nearly a score. He was already satisfied that they were the mustangers, or that some of them were, and that the mustang catching was but a side issue, carried on chiefly for the purpose of blinding people to their real work. The fact that old Nomad seemed to be dragged by his horse, instead of riding on the back of the animal, suggested trouble for the old man, though the scout did not understand the nature of it. Buffalo Bill now concealed his horse in a hollow that was filled with bushes, and then on foot made his way in the direction of Nomad’s flight. He was worried about the safety of the girl, whom he had left with Nomad. More than ever he wished she would be tractable, and that she had started for Glendive with Pawnee Bill. In going forward now, Buffalo Bill used the utmost carefulness. The thick growth of bushes that covered the land except in spots, while offering him protection, screened as well much of the movements of the road agents, so that he was in constant danger of blundering into them at the most unexpected point. His wariness, his keen eyesight, and trained hearing stood him in good stead. He found the hoofprints of Nebuchadnezzar, and began to follow them. That the tracks were made by Nomad’s horse he knew from the fact that recently Nebuchadnezzar had broken a triangular piece out of his right fore hoof. The impression in the soil was unmistakable, to a man trained as the scout was in the fine art of trailing.