At the instant that the last of them disappeared in the door I rolled out from under the platform and began to hobble across the square. My intention was to get behind the stores on the west side of the street; and I had a wild notion of saving the cow in some way, I did not know how. It was a foolhardy thing to do, but I got behind the first store without being seen. But I was no nearer the cow, who was a little ways from the side of Fitzsimmons's, and I dared not go there. She saw me, however, and I held out my hand and said, "Come, bossy!" and she came over. I took her by the horn and led her along behind the buildings, knowing no more than a fool what I should do with her. Just then I came to the sloping outside cellar-door behind a store. The Indians had cleaned the snow off of it, but had not succeeded in getting in, as it was fastened with a padlock. I tried my keys. One of them opened it. The stairs were not steep, and I led the cow down and closed the door above us. The Indians had walked and ridden everywhere in the square and back of the stores, so I thought it would be hard for them to follow the cow's tracks. Nevertheless, the next moment I hurried back and with an old broom brushed lightly our trail behind the buildings; then returned to the cellar. I rested a few minutes till my ankle felt better, then I crept up the inside stairs to the store and peeped out the front window. Four or five of the Indians were standing where the cow had been, looking in all directions. After a while they all went back into Fitzsimmons's store and I slipped down and out the door by which I had got in, locked it, and made my way behind the buildings to the bank and went in. Here the Indians had not disturbed anything, there being nothing to their taste; but when I looked out a crack in the boards over the window I saw the whole eleven of them at the end of the street holding a powwow over the disappearance of their fresh beef. I thought it would be a good time to test my great pet, the tunnel, so I hobbled boldly through and entered the hotel. The first thing I saw was Pawsy in her old place over the dining-room door. She did not seem to like Indians any better than she did wolves. Everything which had not been carried off was in the greatest confusion. The Winchester which had been under the counter was gone. I stood with my crutch looking at the wreck, when, without hearing a sound, I saw the knob of the front door turn and the door push open. With one bound like a cat I went through the open door of the closet under the stairs.