Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Best Bet; Or, A Sure Thing Well Won онлайн

78 страница из 82

Hardly had he gone from sight before a horseman appeared through the timber from the opposite side. At a glance he was recognized as Buffalo Bill, mounted upon his faithful horse Midnight.

As though with a set object in view, he dismounted, and his eye falling upon the spade, he began to throw out the loose earth from the newly made grave. Diligently he worked, using great care as he dug nearer and nearer to the body, and so intent upon his work as to be oblivious to all else.

At length the spade touched the blanket, and his hands were then used to scrape off the dirt until the veil was visible. Tenderly he drew it aside and gazed upon the face of the dead. The eyes were closed, the hair was blond, not black, but it was a face he knew well. From his lips broke the cry:

“It is Panther Kate.”

“Yes, it is Panther Kate, and I am Kent King, the Gambler Guide!”

Buffalo Bill started, and glanced up, to realize that he was trapped. His belt of arms lay some feet distant, and he gazed into the face of Parson Bristow, but the spectacles, shoved up on the forehead, displayed the vicious eyes of Kent King.