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“Whatever was a scrap o’ paper doin’ in er watch?”

“This scrap had writing on it. More than likely Benner tucked it away under the watch lid for safe-keeping. I picked it up and was going to give it to him; then I glanced at the paper and changed my mind.”

“Ye had a reason fer changin’ yore mind, I’ll bet a stack o’ blues!” exclaimed the old trapper, with growing interest. “What was et?”

Wild Bill lifted his right hand, palm upward, and opened his fingers. The little square scrap lay in the palm.

“It’s a corner torn off a playing card, Nick,” said the Laramie man. “Here’s what’s written on it.”

The writing was in a fine hand and Hickok lifted it closer to his eyes as he read:

“Dick Perry captured and held at my place. It’s a risky game, and I want you to come over in the morning and take him away.”

Finishing the reading, Hickok minced the scrap fine and flung the pieces away.

“H’m,” mused the trapper. “Thet sounds like underhand doin’s, all right, an’ yit, I dunno what bizness we got mixin’ in.”