Lieutenant Joel Barlow had seen the entrance of Buffalo Bill into the barricaded land about the fort, and when the scout had gone on to his room at the colonel’s headquarters, Barlow had beheld Wilkins going in the same direction. That view of Wilkins following on after the scout struck sudden suspicion into the mind of Barlow. He followed Wilkins, and saw him go toward the room which the scout, as he knew, occupied. “Something’s up,” he whispered to himself. Thereupon he took off his shoes, and crept through the hall up to Buffalo Bill’s door. So cleverly did he perform this feat that even the keen-eared scout was not aware that a spy stood outside with eye to the keyhole, and hearing strained to the utmost to get every word that was said. No very close listening was needed, however, for in his rage Wilkins lifted his voice. Barlow’s face grew pale, and he shook with rage as great as that of the young man who was talking to the scout. He knew that he was being ruined by that story, and if he could have safely reached Wilkins with a knife he would have struck him dead. When he saw that Wilkins had about finished his revelation and would not remain much longer in the room, Barlow retreated into the yard for safety. For a minute he stood in hesitation. The desire to kill Wilkins burned like a flame in his heart. “I’ll do it later,” he said, as he moved off; “he can’t escape me. I’ll kill him for that just as sure as the sun rises.” He hurried to the stables. There getting his horse he rode down to a palisaded gate. Being the officer in command, and stating that he was going to ride round outside for a while, he was permitted to pass out without a word of question. He rode straight out from the fort into the darkness for a short distance, making the hoofs of his horse clatter, for the benefit of the listening sentry by the gate. Then he drew the horse down, and rode softly back until he was near the corner of the wall on that side, and tied his horse to a stunted mesquite that grew a few hundred yards from the wall. Leaving the horse, he was about to slip on to the wall, and climb quietly back into the grounds by a way he knew, when a dark form rose apparently out of the ground before him. He stopped, hoping he had not been seen. “Is that you, lieutenant?” The voice which called to him was familiar. Barlow breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes,” he said, and immediately the dark form came forward. “I been wonderin’ how I could git inside to see ye.” “Don’t speak so loud, Dave,” Barlow warned, “or you may be heard.” “It was jes’ luck that I did see ye, too,” went on the villain. “Your eyes are keen, to recognize me in the darkness here!” Barlow observed. “Lieutenant, there ain’t many better; I kin see in the dark jes’ like a cat. What’s up?” “Who said anything was up?”