“Yes, I saw that she was trying to read me, and I appreciate her kind gifts to make me comfortable. We will enjoy her bounty greatly.”
As they reached the lake shore the sun was touching the horizon, and the señor halted.
“I will turn back here, Señor Cody, for my wife will be anxious. You see, we have lately received quite a handsome legacy, and if it were known, then our secret foes would capture me or my wife and demand a much larger ransom.”
“Then return home at once, and I regret that you came thus far with me.”
“You have the most dangerous trail to travel, Señor Cody, and a long ten miles.”
“I am used to dangerous trails, señor, but if I thought danger might beset you I would return with you.”
“Not unless you remain all night, señor.”
“I could not do that. The ghosts in the old hacienda might put my men to flight.”
The sun had now sunk behind the western range of mountains, and the lake valley was already darkening under the fall of night.
“That man is all right, for he told me of a legacy lately received. I came here prepared to doubt every one, but I’ll set him down as a square man,” muttered Buffalo Bill, as he rode along the lake shore, under the shelter of the fringe of timber, beneath which led the trail up the valley.
Señor Otega had turned his horse toward home, and set out at a rapid canter.
Reaching a belt of timber, the animal was walking along at his ease, the night having set in, when, without a warning, there settled over the señor’s head a coil of rope, and he found his arms pinioned to his side, while he heard the words in Spanish:
“Resist, Señor Otega, and you are a dead man. I have men here to master you.”
Señor Otega thought first of his wife, and he groaned in agony of spirit.
“What does this outrage upon me mean, for you call me by name, and hence know me?”
“It means that you are a prisoner, and the Señora Otega will be taxed to keep you alive,” was the reply.
Señor Otega now, to his chagrin, saw that he had been lassoed by one man, and he had seized his bridle rein and stood by him, with a revolver leveled at his head.
But there came a flash, a report, and the kidnaper sank in his tracks by the side of the señor’s horse.
At first thought Señor Otega had believed that he had been the one shot at, and as his horse set a good example of flight, he determined to encourage him in it, believing there were other outlaws about.