He screened the fire as well as he could; yet he knew it might be seen; and he was in a land where he could expect to meet enemies in human shape as terrible as the wolves and as little given to mercy. To guard against surprise, he for a time stood in the darkness beyond the rim of the firelight, watching there, while the woman by the fire dried and warmed herself. Far away he heard wolves howling, and they may have been some of those who had pursued him; but the man who had fired the shots did not make himself known. The stars and the moon swung their slow way westward, and the night grew late. At last the scout returned to the fire, fed it with wood, and sat down. Pizen Jane had fallen asleep, but his return aroused her, and she raised herself on her elbow. “Buffler,” she said, smoothing back her tangled hair, “what aire ye goin’ to do now?” “In what way?” he asked. “When?” “Why, to-morrer?” “I hardly know.” “Well, I know you’re lookin’ fer road agents!” “You seem to think you are a mind reader,” he declared, with a laugh. “I am. I kin read yer mind same’s my own.” “What am I thinking of?” “That you wish Pizen Jane was in purgatory, er some other furrin country!” He laughed again, and she laughed with him. “Hardly that, of course.” “You’re wishin’ I wasn’t with you?” “Your society is very pleasant,” was his gallant statement; “but you will admit that this is hardly the sort of country where a woman can feel safe.” “And that’s why I’m goin’ to hang to ye. You can’t git rid of me. I’ll cling to ye like the bark on a tree, and you can’t help it. Fer, ye see, you’re huntin’ road agents, and so am I. And if you find ’em, and I’m with ye, why, I’ll find ’em, too. And that’s what I want.” He smiled into the firelight. “I thought you were of the opinion that I was a fake, and you meant to cling to me for the purpose of finding out?” “Well, that is one reason,” she admitted, with blunt frankness. “If you ain’t the reel Buffler Bill, why, I want to know that, too. And then I’ll be makin’ things mighty int’restin’ fer ye.” She laughed again, sliding from her stern grimness and threatening into laughing good humor. “I’ll watch a while, if ye want to sleep,” she said. “I’ve had my forty winks, and can git along now till morning.” The scout felt sure that he could trust this woman not to harm him in his sleep. She still mystified him, and he could not yet fathom her purpose in being there; for he did not credit her with all the motives she professed. However, he trusted her, and so after a while he lay down for a time, leaving Pizen Jane on guard by the dying camp fire. The horse was picketed on its lariat a few yards away, and was certain to give an alarm if wolves or other wild animals approached. CHAPTER IV. A STARTLING DISCOVERY.