CHAPTER XXXIX.

IN A WEB OF LIES.

Ellen West rode forth from Scarlet Gulch in doubt, with Panther Pete, believing him to be Buffalo Bill, a man she felt she ought to honor, yet troubled by unpleasant forebodings.

He had told her that her father, who was working a claim in the Blue Hills, some distance away, wished her to come there, and had sent him to escort her.

When they were beyond the town, he said:

“Miss West, I didn’t want to tell you, but your father is not well.”

“Not well?” she said, alarmed. “You mean he is very sick, dying perhaps?”

“The fact is,” he exclaimed, “he fell and hurt himself in that tunnel he is digging; some rock fell on him, and----”

“Oh, he is dying! I know it. Why didn’t you tell me at once?”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he answered.

“He is dying?”

“No, not so bad as that; but he is hurt, and I thought you ought to be out there. Girls are scared of the dark, you know, and so--well, I done the best I could. I didn’t want to make you feel bad, either; but I reckon the time for you to know it has come.”

She asked him again and again why he had not told her at first of the injury to her father, and urged him to give details; until, in replying to her, he had constructed such a piece of fiction that he felt rather proud of it and his abilities in that line.

Two or three miles from the town he was joined by half a dozen rough-looking riders, who peered at the girl from under their slouched hats in a way to make her uneasy. These wild figures fell in behind her and the supposed Buffalo Bill, as if they were the escort.

“Friends of mine,” said Panther Pete. “Some of the members of my band of scouts.”

“Oh, your scouts!” she said, much relieved.

“I’m the chief of the scouts, you know.”

“Yes, I have heard that. And these are some of them?”

She glanced at the sky. Being a prairie girl, she knew the stars by sight, and was able to tell which was north as well as any one. She saw the Big Dipper, with its two outer stars pointing to the north star. She had observed that a change had been made in their course, and she saw that a further change of course occurred now, a change that surprised her, for she knew it was not the right direction to take her to her father’s claim. She spoke of it to the man who rode beside her.

“Oh, yes, right ye are! But, you see, it’s this way: There’s danger now in going the straight course, and so we make this circle. We’ll be steering in the other direction soon.”

“What is the danger?” she asked.

“Outlaws,” he said gravely.

“Outlaws?”

“You’ve heard of the stage holdups? Well, it’s the fellows who have been doing that work. These men here saw them over in that direction this afternoon, and so we’re trying to get round them. I didn’t want to worry you by mentioning it.”

This satisfied her for a time, but when, in the course of two or three hours of brisk riding, they passed through a deep cañon pass and came to a hollow in the hills, at a point which she was sure was a long way from her father’s mining claim, and there saw some log huts of poor construction, and the party was challenged by a guard, her fears sprang up.

“What does this mean?” she demanded.

“We’re going to get a stronger force here,” said Panther Pete, still thinking that lying would serve him best. “We need a large escort.”

Again she was silent, and they passed into the valley.

Some dogs barked loudly, but were driven back to their kennels; and then she was before one of the huts, and was told to dismount.

Panther Pete swung down and helped her from the saddle.

“We’ll rest a little while,” he explained. “Then we’ll go on again.”

“But we ought to hurry right on, for father may be dying,” she protested.

“We’ll need a little rest,” he urged, and he opened the door of the hut and showed her within.

She stood in the darkness, inside, hesitating, for she began to feel that something was wrong.

Panther Pete followed her into the hut, and then lighted a lamp, which stood on a low table at the opposite side of the room. By its lights she saw that the hut contained but one room.

“Just stay here and rest a minute,” he urged, “and I’ll be right back. I’ll have something brought for you to eat, and then in a little while we’ll go on again.”

However, when he retreated and closed the door, she distinctly heard the key turned in the lock.

“Mr. Cody,” she called after him, still hearing his retreating footsteps. “Mr. Cody!”

She shook the door, and then pounded on it with her closed fist, and called again; but he did not answer, and he did not turn back. Bewildered now, and badly frightened, she shook the door again and again, and raised her voice in loud calls.

One of the dogs set up a barking outcry, hearing her, but no human being responded.

There was no window in the hut, but near the roof were some small holes that let in light and air. She could not climb up to those holes, and it would not have helped her if she could have done so. In despair, she glanced round the room.

It contained a rude bed, some chairs, and a table and lamp, and nothing else. The floor was of earth, beaten hard.

She sat down to await the return of the man who had locked her in. By and by she heard him coming, and she heard the key turn in the lock when he opened the door.

She was on her feet, facing him, as he entered.

“I must ask you to explain this--this----” She panted and hesitated for words.

He closed the door quickly, and stopped in front of it.

“What is it?” he said.

“Why, you locked me in when you went away! Why did you do that?”

“For your protection,” he said, still thinking it best to lie to her.

“For my protection?”

“Yes; some of these men here I don’t trust. They’re all right as scouts, and all that, but I don’t trust them. We’ve got to stay here a little while, until we can get more men; for the outlaws, it’s reported, are in strong force between here and the Blue Hills.”

His manner had changed, and the truth suddenly came to her, with its startling revelation.

“You are not Buffalo Bill!” she cried, gasping.

“Who’s been telling you I’m not?” he said, startled.

“Oh, I know it! I feel it! You can’t be Buffalo Bill. I did hear rumors, and thought them----”

“What rumors?” he demanded.

“That Buffalo Bill was not in this part of the country, and that you were a fake Buffalo Bill. But I didn’t believe them, for you----”

“For I was making love to you and all that?” He laughed harshly.

“No; because you were father’s friend.”

“Well, I’ve been good to him, for your sake,” he said brazenly.

She became terrified, for this seemed almost a confession that he was not Buffalo Bill.

“I’ve been good to him,” he repeated, “and he knows it, and he don’t doubt that I’m Buffalo Bill. I let him have a thousand dollars to help him out with that claim, and he doesn’t forget it.”

She regarded him with terror, for there was a change in his manner--a reckless change apparently.

“You will take me on to father’s claim as soon as possible?” she said.

He dropped to a rough stool close by the door, in such a manner that the door was still guarded by his body.

“Well, what if I’m not Buffalo Bill, as you say?”

“I--I am afraid you’re not.”

“And if I ain’t?” he demanded.

“You have told me you were!” she gasped.

“And you’ve said I wasn’t. Well, I ain’t.”

He paused to note the effect of his words. She withdrew toward the other side of the room, alarm and fright showing in her face and manner.

“I’m not Buffalo Bill, though I reckon as that ain’t the name that his mother gave him I’ve as much right to it as he has. In other words, I’m not Bill Cody. And I reckon, too, that you’ve heard of me; most people round here have. Do you want to know who I am? I’m Panther Pete.”

She screamed, and crowded closer against the wall when she heard that dreaded name. Panther Pete! It was a name of infamy, a name that reeked with blood, a name to blanch the cheek of woman or man; for the miscreant who bore it was notorious as a murderer and outlaw, with innumerable black and bloody crimes laid at his door.

“You’ve heard of me, I see,” he remarked, with a sardonic smile.

She did not answer, but stared at him, large-eyed and fearful.

“And now that you know who I am, what do ye say to it? Ain’t I as good-looking as I was before--as I was when you thought me Buffalo Bill? Buffalo Bill! Faugh! He’s a milksop, that tries to make people believe that kindness pays when you’re dealing with Indians and cattle like that; and then has to go out and shoot up them same Indians for their deviltry, and thus eat his own words. It ain’t been any special honor to me to play Buffalo Bill; but I had a reason for doing it, which was to get him in a sling. I think he’s in that sling about now, and he won’t get out of it easy.”

It was a long speech, but he seemed to enjoy his words, and the terror they brought to the countenance of the girl.

“Please--please take me to my father!” she begged.

He laughed again harshly.

“You believed that part of it, too, did ye?”

“Please take me to my father!”

“Well, that’s a thing I ain’t thinking of doing. I couldn’t afford to deprive myself of your charming presence, ye know. I’ve taken a fancy to you. My dear, I’m dead in love with you.”

She wanted to scream again.

“You know I told you that once, at your home over there in Scarlet Gulch,” he continued calmly. “You thought I was Buffalo Bill, and you smiled when I said it. I’m the same man, and when I say it now you show a weak disposition and a tendency to holler, which is unkind of you.”

She turned on him in wild desperation. “You must let me out of this house!” she cried. “I won’t stay here. You promised to take me to my father, and----”

“Promises made to a handsome woman are like the proverbial pie crust, made to be broken. I wanted to bring you here.”

“And lied to me?”

“Yes, I lied to you like a sinner. I might as well admit it. I ought to have told you the truth at first; only I thought you’d yell, and there would be a sweet muss of it in the street, maybe with a lot of fellows chasin’ me and trying to shoot me full of holes. So I lied to you.”

“And my father?”

“I ain’t seen your father for a good while. That was a lie, too. I think he’s well and healthy. I don’t expect to see him again soon.”

“And you intend----”

“Just to keep you here a while, my dear, out of affection for you, pure and simple; and then, as soon as it’s safe, we’ll hike out for a preacher I know about, who’ll marry us. He ain’t in good standing in the church just now, but he can tie the matrimonial knot as tight for us as the next one, and that’s what we want. You see, he got into trouble at the last church he presided over, and, when some of the deacons and leading members wanted to put him in jail, he just jumped the country and came to me; and I’ve treated him better than ever they did, and he’s makin’ more money.”

“He is a member of your band of road agents?” she cried.

“I don’t call ’em that; they’re gentlemen of the road, doing good to the world by taking money from rich folks who don’t need it and handing it over to poor folks that do, with just a little for themselves by way of toll for the trouble. And yet people say hard things against us, and invite us to necktie parties and all that. It’s unjust and unreasonable.”

Ellen West had never before seen the devil displayed in human form as she now saw it in this smiling, handsome fellow, who said these things as coolly as if they were but jest, and sat there, his white teeth showing as he laughed. He looked to be a fiend incarnate.

Realizing just what he was, and all the horror of her own position, she wanted to shriek. Then she began to beg him again to let her go; and he answered in the same way, laughing at her words, and making light of her fears.

“Miss West,” he said, “you’ll find us just the finest lot you ever met. So don’t be afraid and go off into a fit. I’m going to make you my wife. I’ve sworn to have the life of Buffalo Bill. I planned a little trick that I think will get him as soon as he puts his nose into Scarlet Gulch. If it doesn’t, I’ve got some other plans that will. I intend to do him up, for some things I owe him.

“That will, of course, necessitate my sudden retirement from this section. I shall emigrate, get out of the country, and go in search of pastures new. And I know where those pastures are--green, and flowing with gold dollars and milk and honey.

“I want somebody to go with me for company, and I’ve hit on you as the female angel that will soothe and console me in that time of retreat and trial. I’ve got a snug abode just built for two up in the mountains, and we’ll bill and coo there like a pair of turtle doves, and forget those awful times down here.”

He sat before her, his elbows on his knees, his hands supporting his chin, and looked at her; and she stared at him, as the charmed bird is said to stare helplessly at the serpent.

She saw how helpless she was in the power of this man. About her were the plains and the rolling hills, and darkness and distance. She did not even know where this hut and this valley were situated; nor how far she had come after leaving Scarlet Gulch. But she knew that in this valley were the road agents who acknowledged the authority of this man--Panther Pete. Yes, she was helpless, and she realized it.

“Oh, let me go!” she begged in terror, throwing herself on her knees before him. “Please--please let me go! I shall pray for you every day of my life, if you will let me go. I once considered you an honorable man, and----”

He put out his hand and touched her head, causing her to shiver.

“My dear girl, have a little sense!” he said. “Is it such a terrible thing to think of marrying me? I’ll bet that, when you thought I was Buffalo Bill, you were of the opinion that I was rather a stunning fellow in general appearance! Now, didn’t you? And I’m as good-looking now as then. Come, be sensible! I’m not going to scalp you, or feed you to my dogs out there. In fact, I’m not going to hurt you at all. I’m simply going to hold you until you’re willing to go before our parson and marry me. Think what that will mean! You will be the wife of Panther Pete, and queen of the road agents! Doesn’t the prospect allure you? If it doesn’t, it ought to. To be queen of our road agents isn’t so small a matter as you may think it. They’re a jolly lot, and fighters every one, from the ground up. There are worse jobs than being queen to a set of fellows like that. Why, if you should be kind to ’em, and say a good word now and then to ’em, there ain’t a man among ’em wouldn’t die for you, and feel happy if you paid him with a smile.

“I’m going to let you think about this. Think it over for a time, and carefully. We’re not such a bad lot. We do our robbing and stealing boldly, and risk our lives. Other men steal and rob under cover--by giving short weight, cheating their customers, stealing from the bank depositors and covering it up with lying figures, and in a thousand other ways; and the world thinks such fellows are great stuff. They’re thieves as much as we are here; but they’re cowardly thieves, which makes them worse than we are. Many a man that lives in a big house in the town and drives his wife out Sundays in a shining carriage is a whole lot more of a bad man than I am, and the world thinks he’s fine as silk. It all depends on how you do the stealing. Make the stealing respectable, and you’re respectable. Steal boldly, and the penitentiary waits for you.”

He rose from his seat by the door.

“My dear,” he said, as his hand fell on the knob and he seemed about to go, “just think that over. I’ll be good to you. I’m actually half in love with you, and I’ll be wholly so if you’ll give me a chance. You’re as handsome as a picture, and I like a pretty woman. I’ll play fair by you, I’ll treat you well, and you may have anything in the way of fine clothes or other finery that you want.”

His brow darkened, as a new thought came to him.

“And understand that it’s just as well to do as I say, and do it gracefully; for you can’t get away. Accept my offer, and you’ll have no trouble. But make trouble for us, and--well, you can see that we’ll have to make trouble for you.”

He drew the door open and stepped through to the outside, with his hand on the knob and on the key.

She saw that she could not escape by a wild rush, and he seemed to read her thought.

“No, there ain’t no use tryin’ it, for you couldn’t get away, even if you got out of this house. The entrance to this valley is guarded, and there are the dogs. They’re kind, unless we set them on the trail of somebody, and then that somebody had better look out, if the dogs overtake him. So don’t try. I’d hate to have the dogs chew you up. Not but that you’d make dainty eating for them; but I shouldn’t like it, and for you it would be mightily unpleasant.”

He started to lock the door, drawing it half shut.

“Think it over,” he urged. “I’m serious, and in this game of robbery I’m not a hypocrite, but play the game fair, and risk my life like a man in doing it. Think it over. To be queen of Panther Pete’s road, agents won’t be so bad as you may think. Take time to study the situation. I’ll make you a good husband, if you’ll give me the chance. And, if you don’t willingly, I’ll be your husband anyway, and you’ll have your trouble for your pains.”

He closed the door and locked it, and she heard his footsteps as he departed.

Then she threw herself blindly on the floor, in a very paroxysm of terror and anguish, sobbing. “I must--must get away from here!” she cried. “I must--to-night--to-night! Oh, I must get out of this house!”