After Bill Harkness left Mainwaring, to go up where the firing was now pretty regular, the latter thought he would look around as far as the bounds named by Harkness would allow.  
So, after taking a long, earnest look at May, who sat with Gertrude near the fire listening to some droll talk from Ben which kept Lize roaring with laughter, the young rancher strolled back toward the avenue, or chamber, which he was told he could use for a promenade of a hundred yards, if he liked.
 
It was dimly lighted by the distant fires and torches, but the floor was level, so he walked on and thought.
 
Thought about home—his good mother, his dear brothers, and the fair sisters who might never see him more, and then, walking back where he could see May with the firelight at play upon her beautiful face, he thought he would risk his very life to get her out of the hands of these ruffians.
 
Suddenly he became aware that he was approaching a man; and thinking it might be the sentinel who stood at the death line, he began to retreat.
 
“Halt! Come here, I want to talk with you!” said the man, whoever he was, seen indistinctly in the gloom.
 
Mainwaring recognized the voice. It was that of the man who had spoken to Harkness, asking who his prisoners were, and what he intended to do with them.
 
So he made up his mind quickly, as he knew this man was well armed, that it would be folly to refuse his invitation to advance.
 
 
He came forward until he was close to the man, who then said, in a low tone:
 
“Stop—you’re near enough. Speak low, and answer my questions.”
 
Mainwaring halted, for he heard the click of a pistol as it was cocked. He thought it was rather unnecessary, since he was unarmed, but he made no comments.
 
“Bill Harkness means to hold you to ransom, don’t he?” asked this man.
 
“I think I heard him tell you so!” said Mainwaring.
 
“Ah—you’ve sharp eyes in the dark. I didn’t think you’d know me. But it don’t make any odds. How much are you going to give him?”
 
Mainwaring hesitated. He did not know if it were prudent to tell this man. If Harkness knew it, it might make him a bitter enemy.
 
“Come, speak out! It may be the best thing you ever did for yourself. You needn’t fear my telling—I want to know for my own satisfaction, and because”—the stranger spoke in a whisper now—“it might better your bargain.”
 
Mainwaring did not hesitate any longer. He felt in a moment that there was a man before him whose treachery might be bought.
 
“One hundred thousand dollars,” said Mainwaring promptly, “for the freedom of those two girls, myself, and the negro Ben!”
 
“Whew! Bill lied to me! You’ve got the spots, sure?”
 
“If you mean the money, yes. I’ve got it where, for this purpose, I can command it.”
 
“You could have it paid into a man’s hand, in the border settlements, wherever he named, and you went quiet, so nobody but him would be the wiser?”
 
“Yes, I have no doubt of it.”
 
“Stranger—I can do you a turn, and I can do it twenty-five thousand cheaper than he. I can get you out of here—and the gals, too, for I know a secret passage. There’s only Bill and me and one other man knows of it, and that other man is about past knowing anything—for ’twas him they brought in dying just now. He is shot through the throat, and he can’t speak!”
 
“Can I trust you?” asked Mainwaring eagerly.
 
“You’ve got to, you can’t help yourself. And I’ve got to trust you, too, for the captain told me he cleaned you out of all you had on you. But I looked in your eye out there by the fire, and there isn’t any lie in it.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
“I’m not talkin’ for thanks—I’m talkin for money! I’m sick of this kind of life. I haven’t been treated fair, anyway. They made me captain and then broke me, because I wouldn’t go down to the railroad and run trains off. But that isn’t business. Swear that if I’ll get you clear, you’ll give me seventy-five thousand, good money.”
 
“I will, on my sacred honor and by my soul!”
 
“Well, I s’pose that is as good as an oath. The next thing is the plan to get you out.”
 
“You understand the girls and the man Ben are in the bargain?”
 
“Yes—and there’s the trouble. I could get you off from here in twenty minutes. But that Lize is as sharp as a ferret. Bill knew what he was about when he told her to look out for ’em.”
 
“I will not move without them.”
 
“There’s but one other way—and I hate to do that. But there isn’t one in a hundred of them that wouldn’t if they had the chance.”
 
“Wouldn’t do what?” asked Mainwaring.
 
“Hush! Don’t speak so loud! If ’twas known we[198] were talking here and about this, we’d be burned alive. What I was thinking of was the letting in of your friends in here. If I did, our fellows would have to git, or go under. And then you and the girls would be safe enough, so safe that if you wanted to go back on me I might whistle for my money!”
 
“I have sworn that if you help me and the other three away, you shall have it!”
 
“I might get killed, as I surely would, if Bill Harkness could get one sight of me, and then I’d be where money wouldn’t do me any good. I want to get out in the world and live honest once more—and I can’t do that without money.”
 
“Why not go out, have an interview with Buffalo Bill, show him how to get in, and then stay where you will be safe?” urged Mainwaring.
 
“I’ll be as safe here as there, if the party was in, and safer, too. It’ll never do for Bill Harkness to know, while he lives, that I’ve done this. He must be snuffed out first thing. Have you anything to write with?”
 
“Yes—a pencil and memorandum book.”
 
“Then write a note to Buffalo Bill, telling him what I will do and what he can do. I’ll get it to him. After that, you go and sit down where he told you to sleep—keep cool and be ready to help yourself when others are ready to help you. Here is a revolver. Keep it out of sight till you need it.”
 
“I will,” said Mainwaring, rejoiced once more to have a weapon in his hand.
 
“And be quiet. Don’t let Harkness, should he come down from above, see that you’ve got a bit of hope. He is keen, and if he suspects anything the whole job is gone up; for he could block the secret passage just as easy as he did the pass out there.”
 
“Do not fear for my betrayal by look or word. I will be apparently asleep, should you return, but wide awake enough to do any duty which comes up.”
 
“All right. Trust me now, as I trust you.”
 
The man took the hasty note which Mainwaring wrote to Buffalo Bill, and in another moment he was out of sight.
 
Mainwaring, placing the treasured revolver in his pocket, now went back to the place where a heap of blankets had been pointed out by Harkness as his sleeping p............