CHAPTER XXIV.

THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS.

When Buffalo Bill returned to the palisade gate, having seen nothing of Lieutenant Barlow, the man he had followed out on the prairie, he was careful to ask the sentry if Barlow had returned.

Being told that Barlow was still outside--a thing which the sentry believed to be true--the scout rode slowly away from the gate, intending to look farther.

Riding thus along he saw near the corner of the palisade wall the slinking form of Smallpox Dave.

He did not know who the man was, and could not see him clearly, but the renegade’s creeping manner spoke of treacherous conduct of some kind.

Thereupon Buffalo Bill softly dismounted, and, leaving his horse standing, he crept toward that corner of the wall, intending to discover just what this man was doing.

Smallpox Dave had secreted himself in the shadows by the wall. His horse and that of Lieutenant Barlow were well concealed not far off, and he was awaiting Barlow’s reappearance and further orders. He did not know that the scout was drawing close upon him, for the advance of Buffalo Bill was made as quietly as that of a panther.

When still some yards from the hiding spot of Smallpox Dave, Buffalo Bill dropped to the ground, intending to await the movement of the man hidden by the wall, whom he was now unable to see.

He had scarcely done so when he heard hurried feet within the ground of the fort, and then a whispering voice:

“All ready over there?”

Buffalo Bill lifted himself on hands and knees and felt for his revolver. He knew the words were not meant for him. Nevertheless, he would be ready for whatever happened.

The man in the shadow whispered something.

The feet were heard again on the other side of the wall, and this was followed by a scraping sound. Then the form of Lieutenant Barlow appeared on top of the wall with the unconscious girl in his arms.

“Hoist that block,” Barlow commanded.

Smallpox Dave came out of his concealment and up-ended against the wall a length of timber, slanting it against the wall. To the top of this he scrambled, and reached up his arms to help Barlow with his burden.

“Be careful there,” Barlow cautioned.

“What ye got?” was the question.

“A girl--a woman. She’s fainted. Steady there!”

He clambered over the top of the wall, and with Barlow’s help began to slide down to the ground.

At this juncture May Arlington came suddenly out of her swoon. The descending motion made her think she was falling, and she screamed.

Apparently the time for action on the scout’s part had come. Buffalo Bill sprang forward, a revolver swinging in his right hand.

“Halt there!” he commanded.

The girl screamed, and a curse of rage broke from Barlow.

“Halt!” said the scout. “Surrender that girl, whoever she is, and whoever you are.”

Smallpox Dave was unfortunately so frightened by this that he gave a wild jump backward, away from the wall; and in this jump one of his flying feet struck the end of the scout’s extended revolver.

A loud report sounded, as the revolver was discharged harmlessly into the air.

The girl and Barlow dropped together to the ground, seeming to fall in a heap.

Smallpox Dave, being down, and hardly knowing what he did, caught Buffalo Bill by the ankle, as the scout tried to leap to the aid of the girl. The result was that the scout came down heavily across the body of Smallpox Dave, who wound his arms around Buffalo Bill, and tried to hold him.

The scout smashed his fist into the face of the renegade and tried to wrench loose.

Valuable time was thus lost, and this valuable time Barlow made the most of, by catching the girl up in his arms and running with her straight out from the wall into the darkness.

When Buffalo Bill succeeded in breaking the hold of Smallpox Dave, he leaped to his feet, with the intention of rushing in pursuit of Barlow, but again he was balked by the renegade, who caught him once more by the ankles and tripped him so that he fell sprawling.

Nevertheless, he sprang up and went in pursuit of the vanishing forms as quickly as he could.

But the time lost had been all in favor of Lieutenant Barlow. The darkness was a friendly aid. Buffalo Bill could not now see him, nor, when he stopped to harken, could the scout hear him.

Buffalo Bill dropped flat to the ground, and listened with ear pressed to the earth. The only sounds reaching him were from the direction of the palisade wall. Footsteps were approaching from that direction, which led the scout to think that the man who had so troubled and foiled him there was advancing.

“Gone into hiding,” was his conclusion concerning the man with the girl; “and if he is clever at it, in this darkness he will make trouble.”

For some time he lay flat on his face listening. Finally he rose to a half-sitting position, for the man advancing stealthily from the direction of the wall was now quite near.

This man was Smallpox Dave. The villain had his knife out, and was warily picking his way along, not knowing what foe he might meet, and trying to be prepared for any encounter. He was aware that the man whom he had tackled was none other than the noted scout, Buffalo Bill. His face was bleeding, his throat ached from the clutching grip of the scout’s iron fingers, and his head roared in a dizzy way.

He was proceeding in the direction in which he had left his own horse and that of Barlow, and he was hoping there to meet Barlow and learn from him what was now to be done. At the same time he was watching, not wishing to run afoul of Buffalo Bill. Yet that was the very thing he did.

A hand reached forward and upward out of the darkness, his leg was caught, he was thrown with blinding and stunning quickness, and then the redoubtable scout was on top of him, holding a knife at his throat.

“Make a sound and you die!” was whispered in his ear, while the blade of the knife was pressed down against his throat in a way to make him lay as quiet as if dead.

“Let up!” he begged, in a hoarse whisper.

A cord was thrown round one wrist, and leg irons were snapped on his ankles, and they held him now helpless.

“Hold out your hands,” was the low command.

“See here, I don’t know ye, but I ain’t done nothin’!” Smallpox Dave whined, thoroughly alarmed now.

Buffalo Bill tied him. “You’re the man I had a fight with by the wall a few minutes ago,” he said. “Tell me who the other man was who came over the wall, and who the girl was?”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about!” Smallpox Dave whined.

“Oh, yes, you do; and you’ll out with it, or I’ll use this knife on you! I’m looking for that other man, and if you talk quick and talk straight it will be all the better for you. I want to know who that man was, and what has become of him?”

“Boss, I’d tell you if I knowed; I don’t know!”

Bound though Smallpox Dave was, the scout gripped him again by the throat.

“You scoundrel, speak out the truth, and speak it quick!” he cried.

Smallpox Dave gasped and gurgled. “Don’t--don’t!” he begged. “I’ll tell what I know.”

The fingers of the scout relaxed.

“Speak quick,” he commanded. “Who was that man?”

Smallpox Dave shivered--he did not want to tell, but again the scout set his fingers to the throat of the miscreant.

“Yes, I’ll tell,” the strangling and frightened wretch now wheezed.

“Who was that man?” Buffalo Bill demanded.

“Lieutenant Barlow.”

“And the girl?”

“The one that lived in the sod house out on the prairie--Arlington’s girl.”

The scout released him.

“Lie there, and if you make any sound, when I come back it will be the worse for you.”

Buffalo Bill leaped away, going once more in the direction which Barlow seemed to have taken the girl.