Chapter XIII: Surprising Discoveries

Throughout the remainder of that night, and all the next day, Buffalo Bill and his companions remained close in hiding by the high cliff wall to which they had retreated.

At intervals they saw men riding by, and once or twice some of these men came near enough to give them much uneasiness. Yet they were undiscovered.

Fortunately, they had brought food from the island, and in the scout’s drinking flask was some water; so that they did not suffer from hunger and thirst.

Though in terror of the outlaws, Cudjo was pleased to be that far from the river, as, to his mind, it lessened the danger he felt he was in from the “’gator.”

When night came, Buffalo Bill was ready to try again to enter the village. The belief that a great deal of gold was there did not lure him, nor was he moved at the moment by his desire to capture Red Reynard, but thoughts of that helpless young woman in the midst of those conscienceless scoundrels, where she received such inhuman treatment, stirred him deeply. He resolved to make a determined effort to locate her and effect her rescue that night, for he was sure she was held against her will. What he had seen and heard convinced him of that predicament.

The scout’s plan of taking the Irishman and Cudjo with him delighted Flynn, but was not so hilariously received by the darky. Yet Cudjo prepared to go, for the very good reason that he feared to stay alone. Whatever the dangers, he felt safer close by the scout’s side.

They set out before the rising of the moon, that they might reach the village while darkness held. As they approached it, they crept down to the river’s edge, and moved along under shelter of the high bluff.

When the moon rose, they were ensconced in a growth of bushes not far from the big cabin where the exciting events of the previous night had occurred. The moonlight flooded the single street of the village, and shone bright on the surface of the stream. By it men were seen moving about, though none were quite near.

When he had watched a while, Buffalo Bill ventured to creep forth and up to the cabin. Then he lay in the shadows, by the bluff that seemed to join the cabin and towered high above the water’s edge.

As he lay there, waiting and watching, a startling thing happened: A door opened close by him, in what he had thought was solid rock, and two men came out. They were Red Reynard and another, whom the scout soon recognized as Bat Stevens, the scoundrel to whom Red Reynard’s letter had been addressed. They were talking in low tones, and as they passed close by the concealed scout, they spoke of the girl, showing by what they said that she was still with them, but had been giving them trouble.

“I’ll tame her, or break her neck,” said Red Reynard harshly. “The way she carries herself, you’d think she was a queen. If Buffalo Bill is still livin’, and if he comes to-night, we can git him.”

They passed on, and the sounds of their voices died away.

The scout stared hard at the wall where the door had opened, though it was now closed, and at the risk of detection he crawled over to it and felt along it with his fingers. He found in one of the inequalities of the surface a hole made for a key, and he knew then that the door was not of rock, but of boards. Having a bunch of keys on a ring in his pocket, he took them out and began to try the lock.

Stooping there in the darkness, for at that point the shadows lay heavily, he worked long and patiently, twisting and turning the keys in an effort to find one that would throw the bolt.

As he thus worked, he heard footsteps approaching. Thrusting the keys into his pocket, he dropped down. In a moment or two Flynn and Cudjo came crawling up to him.

“Dat you, Marse Cody?” Cudjo whispered. “One o’ dem men said you was daid!”

“That’s what brought us,” said Flynn. “Whin they wint by us, they was shpakin’ av yez, and wan av thim said you was dead. I didn’t belave it, havin’ seen yez so racintly, but we kem to find out.”

“They were just hoping me dead, no doubt. Keep watch along by the side of the cabin there, Flynn. There’s a door here, and I’m trying to open it. If we’re seen, we’ll jump along the bank and get off that way. Keep your eyes open, Cudjo.”

Buffalo Bill began again to work at the keyhole, with the darky and Flynn now standing as sentinels.

At length a key which fitted but poorly threw the bolt, and the door swung slowly open, revealing a dark hole.

“Step inside!” the scout commanded, and when they were in with him, he locked the door carefully. “I don’t know where we are, but we’ll see.”

He struck a match and held it aloft.

They were in a large room that seemed to have been hewn or dug out of the bluff. It lay behind the big cabin, and he was sure that it connected with the cabin by an inner door. He recalled that the girl had come from a door on that side of the cabin, and he wondered if she were not now held a prisoner somewhere in this place.

The match went out, but the scout and those with him had got a good look at the room they were in. They had noticed that, though damp and close by the river, the room seemed to be filled with stores of various kinds. Bags and boxes were on the floor, and on the walls saddles and blankets.

“I wondher if anny of that gold is in this place?” Flynn whispered.

“I heahs de river down dar somewhars,” Cudjo declared, thinking of the “’gator.” “Marse Cody, we’d better git out o’ dis. What we gwine tuh do if dem men come back?”

“I want to learn if that girl is held anywhere in here.”

“But if we’s cotched in heah, Marse Cody?”

“What I’m axin’ mesilf is, can there be anny gold in here?” said Flynn. “Bedad, the bags we sane on the flure was too big, but I think I’ll thry wan av thim, to see what they howld.” He stopped and felt about. “Lind me a match, Cody! Ah! I have wan mesilf! I’ll sthrike it, and luk round ag’in. Wurra! but this is the iligant adventure! In the cave av the robbers, wid bags of money layin’ round f’r the takin’. I’ve dr’amed av such things, Cody, maybe the drame is goin’ to come thrue.”

He scratched his match, and, seeing a bag lying at the other end of the room, close by the wall, he went up to it. It lay in an irregular heap. When he stooped to touch it, the bag seemed to move. He sprang back, letting the match fall.

“Cody,” he said, “come here.”

His voice trembled, but he had courage enough to strike another match. As the match flamed, he kicked at the bag, and a man rolled from under it.

Cudjo uttered a shriek which he tried hard to suppress, and Flynn tumbled back in amazement. The scout whipped out a revolver.

But the flaming match was still held by Flynn, and by its light they saw the beardless face of the man they had known as Klamath John.

“Hello!” he said, and then the match went out.

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