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Arrays and ArrayLists 7
Objectives
In this chapter you’ll:
■ Learn what arrays are.

■ Use arrays to store data in and

retrieve data from lists and
tables of values.
■ Declare arrays, initialize arrays
and refer to individual
elements of arrays.
■ Iterate through arrays with the
enhanced for statement.
■ Pass arrays to methods.

■ Declare and manipulate

multidimensional arrays.
■ Use variable-length argument
lists.
■ Read command-line
arguments into a program.
■ Build an object-oriented
instructor gradebook class.
■ Perform common array
manipulations with the
methods of class Arrays.
■ Use class ArrayList to
manipulate a dynamically
resizable array-like data
structure.

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
2 Chapter 7 Arrays and ArrayLists

Self-Review Exercises
7.1 Fill in the blank(s) in each of the following statements:
a) Lists and tables of values can be stored in and .
ANS: arrays, collections.
b) An array is a group of (called elements or components) containing values that
all have the same .
ANS: variables, type.
c) The allows you to iterate through an array’s elements without using a counter.
ANS: enhanced for statement.
d) The number used to refer to a particular array element is called the element’s .
ANS: index (or subscript or position number).
e) An array that uses two indices is referred to as a(n) array.
ANS: two-dimensional.
f) Use the enhanced for statement to walk through double array numbers.
ANS: for (double d : numbers).
g) Command-line arguments are stored in .
ANS: an array of Strings, called args by convention.
h) Use the expression to receive the total number of arguments in a command
line. Assume that command-line arguments are stored in String[] args.
ANS: args.length.
i) Given the command java MyClass test, the first command-line argument is .
ANS: test.
j) A(n) in the parameter list of a method indicates that the method can receive
a variable number of arguments.
ANS: ellipsis (...).
7.2 Determine whether each of the following is true or false. If false, explain why.
a) An array can store many different types of values.
ANS: False. An array can store only values of the same type.
b) An array index should normally be of type float.
ANS: False. An array index must be an integer or an integer expression.
c) An individual array element that’s passed to a method and modified in that method will
contain the modified value when the called method completes execution.
ANS: For individual primitive-type elements of an array: False. A called method receives
and manipulates a copy of the value of such an element, so modifications do not af-
fect the original value. If the reference of an array is passed to a method, however,
modifications to the array elements made in the called method are indeed reflected
in the original. For individual elements of a reference type: True. A called method
receives a copy of the reference of such an element, and changes to the referenced ob-
ject will be reflected in the original array element.
d) Command-line arguments are separated by commas.
ANS: False. Command-line arguments are separated by white space.
7.3 Perform the following tasks for an array called fractions:
a) Declare a constant ARRAY_SIZE that’s initialized to 10.
ANS: final int ARRAY_SIZE = 10;
b) Declare an array with ARRAY_SIZE elements of type double, and initialize the elements
to 0.
ANS: double[] fractions = new double[ARRAY_SIZE];
c) Refer to array element 4.
ANS: fractions[4]

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
 Self-Review Exercises 3

d) Assign the value 1.667 to array element 9.

ANS: fractions[9] = 1.667;
e) Assign the value 3.333 to array element 6.
ANS: fractions[6] = 3.333;
f) Sum all the elements of the array, using a for statement. Declare the integer variable x
as a control variable for the loop.
ANS:

1 double total = 0.0;

2 for (int x = 0; x < fractions.length; x++)
3 total += fractions[x];

7.4 Perform the following tasks for an array called table:

a) Declare and create the array as an integer array that has three rows and three columns.
Assume that the constant ARRAY_SIZE has been declared to be 3.
ANS: int[][] table = new int[ARRAY_SIZE][ARRAY_SIZE];
b) How many elements does the array contain?
ANS: Nine.
c) Use a for statement to initialize each element of the array to the sum of its indices. As-
sume that the integer variables x and y are declared as control variables.
ANS:

1 for (int x = 0; x < table.length; x++)

2 for (int y = 0; y < table[x].length; y++)
3 table[x][y] = x + y;

7.5 Find and correct the error in each of the following program segments:
a)

1 final int ARRAY_SIZE = 5;

2 ARRAY_SIZE = 10;

ANS: Error: Assigning a value to a constant after it has been initialized.

Correction: Assign the correct value to the constant in a final int ARRAY_SIZE
declaration or declare another variable.
b)

1 int[] b = new int[10];

2 for (int i = 0; i <= b.length; i++)
3 b[i] = 1;

ANS: Error: Referencing an array element outside the bounds of the array (b[10]).
Correction: Change the <= operator to <.
c)

1 int[][] a = {{1, 2}, {3, 4}};

2 a[1, 1] = 5;

ANS: Error: Array indexing is performed incorrectly.

Correction: Change the statement to a[1][1] = 5;.

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
4 Chapter 7 Arrays and ArrayLists

Exercises
NOTE: Solutions to the programming exercises are located in the ch07solutions folder.
Each exercise has its own folder named ex07_## where ## is a two-digit number represent-
ing the exercise number. For example, exercise 7.10’s solution is located in the folder ex-
07_10.
7.6 Fill in the blanks in each of the following statements:
a) One-dimensional array p contains four elements. The names of those elements are
, , and .
ANS: p[0], p[1], p[2], and p[3]
b) Naming an array, stating its type and specifying the number of dimensions in the array
is called the array.
ANS: declaring
c) In a two-dimensional array, the first index identifies the of an element and the
second index identifies the of an element.
ANS: row, column
d) An m-by-n array contains rows, columns and elements.
ANS: m, n, m times n
e) The name of the element in row 3 and column 5 of array d is .
ANS: d[3][5]
7.7 Determine whether each of the following is true or false. If false, explain why.
a) To refer to a particular location or element within an array, we specify the name of the
array and the value of the particular element.
ANS: False. The name of the array and the index are specified.
b) An array declaration reserves space for the array.
ANS: False. Arrays must be dynamically allocated with new in Java.
c) To indicate that 100 locations should be reserved for integer array p, you write the dec-
laration
p[100];
ANS: False. The correct declaration is int p[] = new int[100];
d) An application that initializes the elements of a 15-element array to zero must contain
at least one for statement.
ANS: False. Numeric arrays are automatically initialized to zero. Also, a member initializer
list can be used.
e) An application that totals the elements of a two-dimensional array must contain nested
for statements.
ANS: False. It is possible to total the elements of a two-dimensional array with nested while
statements, nested do…while statements or even individual totaling statements.
7.8 Write Java statements to accomplish each of the following tasks:
a) Display the value of element 6 of array f.
ANS: System.out.print(f[6]);
b) Initialize each of the five elements of one-dimensional integer array g to 8.
ANS: int g[] = {8, 8, 8, 8, 8};
c) Total the 100 elements of floating-point array c.
ANS: for (int k = 0; k < c.length; k++)
total += c[k];
d) Copy 11-element array a into the first portion of array b, which contains 34 elements.
ANS: for ( int j = 0; j < a.length; j++ )
b[ j ] = a[ j ];

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
 Exercises 5

e) Determine and display the smallest and largest values contained in 99-element floating-
point array w.
ANS: double small = w[0];
double large = w[0];

for (int i = 0; i < w.length; i++)

if (w[i] < small)
small = w[i];
else if (w[i] > large)
large = w[i];

System.out.printf("%f %f%n", small, large);

7.9 Consider a two-by-three integer array t.

a) Write a statement that declares and creates t.
ANS: int t[][] = new int[2][3];
b) How many rows does t have?
ANS: two
c) How many columns does t have?
ANS: three
d) How many elements does t have?
ANS: six
e) Write access expressions for all the elements in row 1 of t.
ANS: t[1][0], t[1][1], t[1][2]
f) Write access expressions for all the elements in column 2 of t.
ANS: t[0][2], t[1][2]
g) Write a single statement that sets the element of t in row 0 and column 1 to zero.
ANS: t[0][1] = 0;
h) Write individual statements to initialize each element of t to zero.
ANS: t[0][0] = 0;
t[0][1] =0;
t[0][2] =0;
t[1][0] =0;
t[1][1] =0;
t[1][2] =0;
i) Write a nested for statement that initializes each element of t to zero.
ANS: for (int j = 0; j < t.length; j++) {
for (int k = 0; k < t[j].length; k++) {
t[j][k] = 0;
}
}
j) Write a nested for statement that inputs the values for the elements of t from the user.
ANS: for (int j = 0; j < t.length; j++) {
for (int k = 0; k < t[j].length; k++) {
t[j][k] = input.nextInt();
}
}
k) Write a series of statements that determines and displays the smallest value in t.
ANS: int smallest = t[0][0];

for (int j = 0; j < t.length; j++) {

for (int k = 0; k < t[j].length; k++) {
if (t[x][y] < smallest) {
smallest = t[x][y];
}
}
}

System.out.println( smallest );

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
6 Chapter 7 Arrays and ArrayLists

l) Write a single printf statement that displays the elements of the first row of t.
ANS: System.out.printf("%d %d %d\n", t[0][0], t[0][1], t[0][2]);
m) Write a statement that totals the elements of the third column of t. Do not use iteration.
ANS: int total = t[0][2] + t[1][2];
n) Write a series of statements that displays the contents of t in tabular format. List the
column indices as headings across the top, and list the row indices at the left of each row.
ANS: System.out.printf("\t0\t1\t2%n%n");

for (int e = 0; e < t.length; e++) {

System.out.print(e);
for (int r = 0; r < t[e].length; r++)
System.out.printf("\t%d", t[e][r]);

System.out.println();
} // end for

7.10 (Sales Commissions) Use a one-dimensional array to solve the following problem: A com-
pany pays its salespeople on a commission basis. The salespeople receive $200 per week plus 9% of
their gross sales for that week. For example, a salesperson who grosses $5,000 in sales in a week re-
ceives $200 plus 9% of $5,000, or a total of $650. Write an application (using an array of counters)
that determines how many of the salespeople earned salaries in each of the following ranges (assume
that each salesperson’s salary is truncated to an integer amount):
a) $200–299
b) $300–399
c) $400–499
d) $500–599
e) $600–699
f) $700–799
g) $800–899
h) $900–999
i) $1,000 and over
Summarize the results in tabular format.
7.11 Write statements that perform the following one-dimensional-array operations:
a) Set the 10 elements of integer array counts to zero.
ANS: for (int u = 0; u < counts.length; u++)
counts[u] = 0;
b) Add one to each of the 15 elements of integer array bonus.
ANS: for (int v = 0; v < bonus.length; v++)
bonus[v]++;
c) Display the five values of integer array bestScores in column format.
ANS: for (int w = 0; w < bestScores.length; w++)
System.out.println(bestScores[w]);
7.13 Label the elements of three-by-five two-dimensional array sales to indicate the order in
which they’re set to zero by the following program segment:
for (int row = 0; row < sales.length; row++) {
for (int col = 0; col < sales[row].length; col++) {
sales[row][col] = 0;
}
}

ANS: sales[0][0], sales[0][1], sales[0][2], sales[0][3],

sales[0][4], sales[1][0], sales[1][1], sales[1][2],
sales[1][3], sales[1][4], sales[2][0], sales[2][1],
sales[2][2], sales[2][3], sales[2][4]

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
 Special Section: Building Your Own Computer 7

Special Section: Building Your Own Computer

In the next several problems, we take a temporary diversion from the world of high-level language
programming to “peel open” a computer and look at its internal structure. We introduce machine-
language programming and write several machine-language programs. To make this an especially
valuable experience, we then build a computer (through the technique of software-based simula-
tion) on which you can execute your machine-language programs.
7.36 (Machine-Language Programming) Let’s create a computer called the Simpletron. As its
name implies, it’s a simple machine, but powerful. The Simpletron runs programs written in the
only language it directly understands: Simpletron Machine Language (SML).
The Simpletron contains an accumulator—a special register in which information is put
before the Simpletron uses that information in calculations or examines it in various ways. All the
information in the Simpletron is handled in terms of words. A word is a signed four-digit decimal
number, such as +3364, -1293, +0007 and -0001. The Simpletron is equipped with a 100-word
memory, and these words are referenced by their location numbers 00, 01, …, 99.
Before running an SML program, we must load, or place, the program into memory. The first
instruction (or statement) of every SML program is always placed in location 00. The simulator
will start executing at this location.
Each instruction written in SML occupies one word of the Simpletron’s memory (so instructions
are signed four-digit decimal numbers). We shall assume that the sign of an SML instruction is always
plus, but the sign of a data word may be either plus or minus. Each location in the Simpletron’s mem-
ory may contain an instruction, a data value used by a program or an unused (and so undefined) area
of memory. The first two digits of each SML instruction are the operation code specifying the opera-
tion to be performed. SML operation codes are summarized in Fig. 7.1.
The last two digits of an SML instruction are the operand—the address of the memory location
containing the word to which the operation applies. Let’s consider several simple SML programs.

Operation code Meaning

Input/output operations:
final int READ = 10; Read a word from the keyboard into a specific location in memory.
final int WRITE = 11; Write a word from a specific location in memory to the screen.
Load/store operations:
final int LOAD = 20; Load a word from a specific location in memory into the accumulator.
final int STORE = 21; Store a word from the accumulator into a specific location in memory.
Arithmetic operations:
final int ADD = 30; Add a word from a specific location in memory to the word in the
accumulator (leave the result in the accumulator).
final int SUBTRACT = 31; Subtract a word from a specific location in memory from the word in
the accumulator (leave the result in the accumulator).
final int DIVIDE = 32; Divide a word from a specific location in memory into the word in
the accumulator (leave result in the accumulator).
final int MULTIPLY = 33; Multiply a word from a specific location in memory by the word in
the accumulator (leave the result in the accumulator).

Fig. 7.1 | Simpletron Machine Language (SML) operation codes. (Part 1 of 2.)

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
 8 Chapter 7 Arrays and ArrayLists

Operation code Meaning

Transfer-of-control operations:
final int BRANCH = 40; Branch to a specific location in memory.
final int BRANCHNEG = 41; Branch to a specific location in memory if the accumulator is negative.
final int BRANCHZERO = 42; Branch to a specific location in memory if the accumulator is zero.
final int HALT = 43; Halt. The program has completed its task.

Fig. 7.1 | Simpletron Machine Language (SML) operation codes. (Part 2 of 2.)

The first SML program (Fig. 7.2) reads two numbers from the keyboard and computes and
displays their sum. The instruction +1007 reads the first number from the keyboard and places it
into location 07 (which has been initialized to 0). Then instruction +1008 reads the next number
into location 08. The load instruction, +2007, puts the first number into the accumulator, and the
add instruction, +3008, adds the second number to the number in the accumulator. All SML arith-
metic instructions leave their results in the accumulator. The store instruction, +2109, places the result
back into memory location 09, from which the write instruction, +1109, takes the number and dis-
plays it (as a signed four-digit decimal number). The halt instruction, +4300, terminates execution.

Location Number Instruction

00 +1007 (Read A)
01 +1008 (Read B)
02 +2007 (Load A)
03 +3008 (Add B)
04 +2109 (Store C)
05 +1109 (Write C)
06 +4300 (Halt)
07 +0000 (Variable A)
08 +0000 (Variable B)
09 +0000 (Result C)

Fig. 7.2 | SML program that reads two integers and computes their sum.
The second SML program (Fig. 7.3) reads two numbers from the keyboard and determines
and displays the larger value. Note the use of the instruction +4107 as a conditional transfer of con-
trol, much the same as Java’s if statement.

Location Number Instruction

00 +1009 (Read A)
01 +1010 (Read B)
02 +2009 (Load A)
03 +3110 (Subtract B)

Fig. 7.3 | SML program that reads two integers and determines the larger.

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
 Special Section: Building Your Own Computer 9

Location Number Instruction

04 +4107 (Branch negative to 07)

05 +1109 (Write A)
06 +4300 (Halt)
07 +1110 (Write B)
08 +4300 (Halt)
09 +0000 (Variable A)
10 +0000 (Variable B)

Fig. 7.3 | SML program that reads two integers and determines the larger.
Now write SML programs to accomplish each of the following tasks:
a) Use a sentinel-controlled loop to read 10 positive numbers. Compute and display their
sum.
ANS: Note: This program terminates when a negative number is input. The problem state-
ment should state that only positive numbers should be input.

00 +1009 (Read Value)

01 +2009 (Load Value)
02 +4106 (Branch negative to 06)
03 +3008 (Add Sum)
04 +2108 (Store Sum)
05 +4000 (Branch 00)
06 +1108 (Write Sum)
07 +4300 (Halt)
08 +0000 (Storage for Sum)
09 +0000 (Storage for Value)

b) Use a counter-controlled loop to read seven numbers, some positive and some negative,
and compute and display their average.
ANS:

00 +2018 (Load Counter)

01 +3121 (Subtract Termination)
02 +4211 (Branch zero to 11)
03 +2018 (Load Counter)
04 +3019 (Add Increment)
05 +2118 (Store Counter)
06 +1017 (Read Value)
07 +2016 (Load Sum)
08 +3017 (Add Value)
09 +2116 (Store Sum)
10 +4000 (Branch 00)
11 +2016 (Load Sum)
12 +3218 (Divide Counter)
13 +2120 (Store Result)

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
10 Chapter 7 Arrays and ArrayLists

14 +1120 (Write Result)

15 +4300 (Halt)
16 +0000 (Variable Sum)
17 +0000 (Variable Value)
18 +0000 (Variable Counter)
19 +0001 (Variable Increment)
20 +0000 (Variable Result)
21 +0007 (Variable Termination)

c) Read a series of numbers, and determine and display the largest number. The first num-
ber read indicates how many numbers should be processed.

00 +1017 (Read Endvalue)

01 +2018 (Load Counter)
02 +3117 (Subtract Endvalue)
03 +4215 (Branch zero to 15)
04 +2018 (Load Counter)
05 +3021 (Add Increment)
06 +2118 (Store Counter)
07 +1019 (Read Value)
08 +2020 (Load Largest)
09 +3119 (Subtract Value)
10 +4112 (Branch negative to 12)
11 +4001 (Branch 01)
12 +2019 (Load Value)
13 +2120 (Store Largest)
14 +4001 (Branch 01)
15 +1120 (Write Largest)
16 +4300 (Halt)
17 +0000 (Variable EndValue)
18 +0000 (Variable Counter)
19 +0000 (Variable Value)
20 +0000 (Variable Largest)
21 +0001 (Variable Increment)

© 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., 330 Hudson Street, NY NY 10013. All rights reserved.
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
 “Gain?” repeated Holmes. “Satisfaction, that’s all.” His eyes were
rolling wildly, and Buffalo Bill realized that he was confronting a half-
crazed enemy; and he was the more dangerous on that account.
But where was Wild Bill? He had had time to reach the peak, and
yet there was no sign of him.
While the king of scouts wondered at the nonappearance of his
old comrade, Holmes, holding the knife in a threatening attitude,
backed out of sight, and continued his ascent of the peak.
Buffalo Bill and his companions ran around the base to make a
discovery that at the moment gave them some satisfaction.
The villain’s progress had been stopped. There was a wide gap in
the rings; too wide to be covered by a leap.
The path Holmes with his burden had been pursuing terminated at
a narrow shelf over an almost vertical wall, which formed the back of
a small cove cut out of the base of the peak. The floor of the cove
was not smooth. Sharp, jagged sections of the rocky ledge upon
which the base rested pointed upward.
Rixton Holmes, standing perilously on the shelf, looked down, and
he gave a wild laugh as his eyes fell on the king of scouts, Bart
Angell, and Carl Henson. “The jig is up,” he shrieked. “Myra Wilton is
going into eternity, and I am going to follow her. I lose and you don’t
win.”
“I am going to fire,” said Henson in a husky whisper. “I—I can’t
stand this.”
“Wait,” sternly commanded Buffalo Bill. “If there is any shooting to
be done, it must be done by me.”
As he ceased speaking, Holmes raised the limp form of the girl
above his head.
“Down she goes,” he yelled, and, dazed with horror, Carl Henson
started back, his rifle held in a nerveless hand.
It was a frightful moment. Buffalo Bill, whose wits had not
deserted him, did not fire, though he might have done so. He
realized that a shot would not save the life of the girl, for her form
was held directly over the precipice, and that she would fall the
instant a bullet entered the brain of the fiend who held her.
Therefore, instead of firing, he leaped into the cove, braced
himself, and raised his hands.
There came a savage shout from above, and the next instant the
villain fell back on the ringing rocks with Wild Bill on top of him.
The intent of the tall scout had been good, but it did not suffice to
bring the girl from a position of deadly danger to one of safety.
The sudden descent of Wild Bill from above the shelf caused
Holmes to relax his grip on the form of his victim.
Her senses had returned a moment before Holmes lifted her
above his head. As the villain fell over under the weight of the
savagely excited scout, she slipped over the edge of the precipice.
But she did not fall to the bottom. She clutched at the uneven
surface of the side wall as she went, and halfway down her belt
caught on a projection, and she hung there, head and feet pointing
downward.
Her terrified eyes met the upturned gaze of the palefaced king of
scouts.
“Raise yourself if you can,” he shouted encouragingly, “and grip
that rock that has caught you.”
The attempt was made and was a failure. The girl was too weak
to exert more than a small portion of her normal strength.
“Rest a bit and try again,” counseled the scout. “If you can hold on
a few minutes, I’ll get you onto solid ground.”
“Can’t I do something?” said Carl Henson, his handsome face
twitching with agony.
“Yes,” was the quick response; “you can run to the ponies, where
Holmes left them, and get the reatas.”
The young man was off like a shot, but he never went as far as
the spot where the ponies had been secured. On his way he met
Bart Angell. The big backwoodsman had the reatas in his hand.
 “I reckoned as how they’d shore be needed,” he said to Henson,
“an’ so I jest naterally made a bee line fer ther ponies without axin’
Cody’s permission.”
When Henson and Angell reached the cove Myra Wilton had
succeeded in gettin’ her hands on the rocky projection, and Wild Bill
was standing on the narrow shelf above.
“Hike up here with those reatas,” Wild Bill shouted.
“I’ll take them,” said Carl Henson quickly. “I can make better time
than you, Mr. Angell.”
Buffalo Bill would not leave his position under the girl. She might
fall at any moment. If she did, it might be death for him and her, for
there was a sheer drop of nearly fifty feet.
Bart Angell regarded the king of scouts gravely. Soon he was
standing behind his comrade. “Go away, Bart,” commanded Buffalo
Bill. “One is enough.”
“Maybe not, son,” was the firm reply. “If she comes, I’ll shore yank
you back ther minute she strikes your arms. Thataway we’ll save
some of ther pieces.”
The king of scouts tried to smile, but could not. Above him the girl
was swaying about the projection that was holding her.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” she said faintly, and her voice just
reached the ears of the king of scouts. “And if I let go with my
hands I must fall, for the belt has given way.”
“You must hold on,” came the reply as a command. “Help is on the
way.”
A shout from the shelf gave her courage. “I am here, Myra,” called
out Carl Henson tremulously. “I have got ropes, and they’ll be down
to you in a minute.” While he was speaking Wild Bill was twisting the
reatas. In the cove Buffalo Bill breathed a sigh of deepest relief.
The transition from torturing suspense to ardent hope was
scarcely set before Bart Angell screamed: “Look out, she is falling!”
He spoke the awful truth. Myra Wilton, turning to look up at her
lover, had broken off the end of projection of rock about which her
hands were clasped. If she had had wits about her she might have
saved herself from falling, but the accident unnerved her, and she
relaxed her hold on the solid, fixed, remaining section of the rock.
Carl Henson saw her fall, and would have leaped after her if Wild
Bill had not seized his arm in the nick of time.
The young man was struggling in the grasp of the tall scout, when
a joyous shout from the cove caused him to gaze into Wild Bill’s face
in utter bewilderment.
“A miracle, I reckon,” said the scout to the young man as they
both started for the shelf.
And a miracle, or something closely allied to one, had intervened
to save the life of Myra Wilton. Her lover, looking down, saw her safe
in the arms of Buffalo Bill.
She had not fallen straight from the projecting rock. There were
other projections on the side wall of the cove. She had caught at
them as she went down, and once her gown had held her up for a
few seconds. When at last she fell, to be received in the arms of the
king of scouts, she was not more than ten feet from the ground.
Five minutes later she was clasped to the breast of Carl Henson.
“A mighty close shave, Cody,” remarked Wild Bill, as he slapped his
old comrade on the back; “mighty close. I never expected to see
either you or her alive again.”
Buffalo Bill was sitting on a rock mopping his face. He was about
to make some sort of response, when Myra Wilton left her lover and
stood in front of him. First she smiled, and then impulsively leaned
over and kissed him.
“The debt is wiped out,” he said, as he took her two hands and
pressed them. “But”—he paused and smiled at Carl Henson—“you
must let me dance at your wedding.”
“You shall,” she responded, with a pretty blush.
The king of scouts now gave his mind to more serious concerns.
“How is it with Rixton Holmes?” he asked Wild Bill.
 “It’s a case of dying, Cody. The fellow struck his cabesa on a sharp
rock when he fell, and the point became acquainted with his Sarah
Billium.”
“Can he talk?”
“Don’t know. I’ll bring him down for you.”
Bart Angell went with Wild Bill. They soon returned bearing the
limp form of the villainous cousin of Myra Wilton.
The wound was bandaged, and whisky was forced down his
throat.
Soon he opened his eyes and stared about him. He saw the girl he
had tried to murder, and he looked into the sober, reproachful
countenance of the king of scouts.
“Take the money,” he said faintly, and trying to conjure up a smile.
“I’ve lost.”
He was asked to make a full confession of his crimes.
“Life is too short for that,” he replied, “but I’ll tell something about
the mine affair. I would never have plotted to kill my three uncles if I
hadn’t bumped up against Tom Darke. He knew me as Rixton Clay,
and had no notion that I was related to the Holmeses. We became
card partners, and soon I knew all his secrets. One night when he
was pretty full he told me that he had come West for the purpose of
killing three men—Peter, Jared, and Matt Holmes. At that time
Peter’s mine was the talk of Colorado. There had been a rich
discovery, and the mine was worth millions.
“Well, I reflected, and soon the plot was born. Tom Darke killed
Peter and Jared, and he would have killed Matt if I had not taken the
job off his hands. I had to, for I was afraid that Darke’s gun would
miss fire and that Matt would get him.
“The letter that brought my Cousin Myra to New Mexico was
written by me. I had ingratiated myself with my Uncle Matt, and I
knew he had made a will, leaving his estate to me and Myra. His
estate then did not amount to much, but the estate of Peter did, and
when Peter and Jared died, Matt became the owner of the mine.
Before Myra arrived, Peter and Jared had crossed the divide.
“I could have come forward and claimed half the estate when my
three uncles were dead, but I was afraid that I would be arrested.
Although I had covered my tracks pretty well, I dared not face the
authorities. Therefore, my scheme at the last was to marry Myra,
compel her to give me the larger part of her share, and then light
out for foreign parts.
“I believe she was on the point of trusting me, when you, Mr.
Cody, was trapped in the cave. But I found when we got outside the
hole that I had caught a Tartar.”
His voice became so weak that it could scarcely be heard. More
whisky was administered.
“There is not much more for me to say,” the dying villain
proceeded. “I stole Crow-killer’s pony and trailed you and your
friends, Mr. Cody, to the Indian valley. I guessed your object. You
were on your way to rescue my cousin from the hands of the
Navahos. I determined to block that game if I could. I sneaked into
the village ahead of you, and just after dark got to Myra’s tepee, and
was lucky enough to find that no one was with her. I was once a
druggist, and I have always carried on my person a powerful and
peculiarly acting drug that was sent to me from the East Indies. This
drug will produce a sleep that resembles death. I had come to the
tepee prepared to work a bold design, and before I crawled away
the drug was in the hands of Myra, and she knew what to do.”
“How did you deceive her,” asked Buffalo Bill.
“I used your name. A note accompanied the vial that contained
the drug. The note was signed with your name, and informed her
that you were near by, and that her rescue was certain if she would
comply with your wish. She must swallow the contents of the vial. A
deep sleep would come, the Indians would look upon her as dead,
vigilance would be relaxed, and she could be carried away before
daybreak. I did not, of course, enter the tepee, but thrust my hand
under the wall of skins and made a slight noise to attract her
attention.
“The scheme worked better than I had planned. The rescue was
made with you, Mr. Cody, as my ally. The fight in the tepee was right
to my hand. Before it was over I was on my pony, with Myra in my
arms.
“If I used her roughly after she came to her senses, it was
because I was half insane with fear. You were in pursuit, I knew it,
and I knew, also, that I was doomed unless I got safely out of the
mountains.”
“Did Miss Wilton see me before you left the pony to run to the
peak?” asked Buffalo Bill. “She acted as if she did.”
“No, she did not see you, but she made me believe she did. Then
I must have gone wholly insane. I determined to kill her and then kill
myself.”
The tale was told. In a few minutes Rixton Holmes was dead.
Not many weeks later Myra Wilton and Carl Henson were married
in Denver. Wild Bill Hickok left his partner to engage in a hunting
expedition on the Continental Divide. Buffalo Bill, however, had much
else to attend to. He had scarcely finished his work in the Holmes
murder mystery before he had received a telegram from Colonel
Hayden, an army officer, requesting the aid of the king of scouts in
locating his beautiful daughter, who had been kidnaped by a
notorious bandit.
 CHAPTER IX.
A MAN HUNT IN ARIZONA.

“He does not look as if he had the intelligence of a rabbit, Cody.”

The speaker’s fine face was shadowed with grief. The tone was
despondent.
“I’ll admit that he would not likely pull a prize at a scholastic
exhibition, colonel; but he knows one thing, and he knows it well. It
may be instinct or it may be intelligence—I’ll not venture a decided
opinion on the point—but the proof is abundant that he is, par
excellence, the great and only human sleuthhound.”
Buffalo Bill, mounted on a coal-black steed, smiled on the Hualapi,
who was the subject of Colonel Hayden’s remark.
The Indian was short, squatty, and in features closely resembled
the despised Digger of northern California. The forehead was low,
the nose short and broad, the lips as thick as a negro’s, and the chin
conspicuously nonaggressive. The eyes were small, piercing, and
snaky. Fixed upon the colonel, they expressed utter disdain, for the
Hualapi could speak a fair sort of English, and he had understood
the purport of the colonel’s slurring statement.
The three men, the whites on horseback, the Indian on foot, were
on the edge of the Colorado desert. They looked upon a sky
unbroken by a cloud. The horizon stretched away until, on either
side, it was lost in the haze of quivering heat. The expanse was
unmarred by tree or shrub, while underfoot a sea of restless sand,
ever shifting and ever changing, seemed as if it sought to escape
the all-pervading, deathlike monotony and silence of the desert.
 Add to this the sparse and stunted vegetation that tells of scanty
water and burning suns, and a picture is presented of the home of
the Hualapi, the human sleuthhound, who by the keenness of his
vision follows the trail of man or beast where the best bloodhound
would be baffled.
Day after day the scene is the same, until the eye, weary with
sweeping the unbroken wastes, contents itself with noting the few
signs of life the desert furnishes.
Colonel Hayden tried to gather comfort from the confident
assertion of the king of scouts. But his almost hopeless look returned
when he gazed out upon the desert.
Buffalo Bill regarded the serious-faced officer with an eye of pity.
The colonel’s mind was burdened with a deep sorrow and a racking
anxiety. He was a father, and his only child, a daughter, was in the
power of a conscienceless villain.
Commander of a military post in Wyoming, he had obtained leave
of absence for the purpose of pursuing the abductor of his daughter.
Buffalo Bill, then in the government employ, had also secured leave
on the recommendation and at the urgent request of the colonel,
who believed that if any man in the West could trail the villain and
rescue the girl, the brave, fearless, and skillful king of scouts was
that man.
The abduction had not the usual sordid motive. Colonel Hayden
was a rich man, but there was no question of ransom in the carrying
away of Sybil Hayden. Nor was there anything between the colonel
and Edward Frams, better known as Black-face Ned, out of which
hate and revenge might have grown. The two men were strangers.
Colonel Hayden did not know that such a person as Black-face Ned
existed until the terrible news of the abduction reached him.
Sybil was away from the post visiting a schoolmate at her
mountain home many miles from the military station when she met
the villain who now had her in his power.
He was a cowboy, and had arrived at the ranch a few days after
Sybil made her appearance there. Tall, muscularly built, with flashing
black eyes, a pale, classic face, and a heavy, drooping mustache, he
was a man who always attracted attention and compelled
admiration. He was vain of his good looks, and believed himself to
be a lady-killer of the first water. Sybil Hayden thought him
interesting, but she did not admire him. There was something about
him that induced distrust. His eyes had frequently a sinister gleam in
them, and when he looked at her she saw more than he desired she
should see.
None of the other cowboys on the ranch knew him, and none of
them grew to like him. They were rough, honest fellows, and did not
take kindly to his style, which was dandified and superior. But they
grudgingly admitted that he knew his business. He was a fine rider
and a dead shot, and his bravery was unquestioned.
His story was that he had just come from northern Mexico, where
for ten years he had been the foreman of a large cattle ranch.
One day while Sybil was riding a few miles from the house she
met Frams, who was returning from a visit to the nearest town.
She gave him a cool bow, and was about to ride on, when he
reined up by her side and spoke quickly:
“I must say what I have been wanting to say for weeks, Miss
Hayden. You must hear me. I love you, and I want you for my wife.”
The girl’s indignation was greater than her surprise.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied coldly. She gave her
pony a light tap, but Frams caught the bridle, and the pony
remained at a standstill.
His voice was hoarse as he said: “You look upon me with
contempt because I am poor. I know your kind, and——”
“Like them.” The interruption was coolly made. Frams turned red,
and his eyes glittered savagely.
“Yes, I like your kind,” he hissed, “though I despise them, also.”
Irritated by her cool, sneering expression, he continued fiercely: “I
love you, and I want to tame you, to bring you down from your high
horse and make you sing small for your attitude toward those you
consider your inferiors.”
“You make love in a most peculiar way,” Sybil replied, with a smile
that made the villain grit his teeth. “Until to-day I was scarcely
aware that you existed. But your stupendous insolence has forced
you upon my notice. Be kind enough to remove your hand from the
bridle. If you were a gentleman, I would not have to ask twice.”
With an oath, Frams let his hand fall to his side. As the girl rode
on, he shook his fist at her and said loud enough for her to hear:
“Go on, but don’t think you have done with me. A day of reckoning
is coming.”
On her return to the ranch house, Sybil did not mention her
meeting with Edward Frams. She believed that the incident was
closed, and that the cowboy would in future keep his distance.
She was not ill pleased when at night Frams threw up his job,
received his money, mounted his pony, and rode away, declaring
that he was going back to Mexico.
Two nights afterward, Sybil, who slept in a room on the first floor,
with window opening on the long veranda, was awakened from a
sound sleep by a noise near her couch. Before she could cry out, a
handkerchief, saturated with chloroform, was pressed against her
nostrils, and her senses left her. When she returned to
consciousness, she found herself strapped to the back of a horse.
It was still dark, and the horse was going at a gallop along the
trail toward the mountains.
In front was another horse, and upon its back, a cruel smile upon
his dark face, was Edward Frams, the cowboy.
The next day the news of the abduction reached Colonel Hayden.
Well-nigh distracted, he reached the ranch at the earliest possible
moment, and learned that several parties were out in pursuit of the
abductor.
The animal Frams bestrode had peculiar hoof marks, and several
of the cowboys at once recognized them.
 A week went by and there was no report from any one of the
pursuing parties. Colonel Hayden had come too late to hope to
overtake the men who had gone on the trail of Frams, and so he
remained at the ranch in an agony of suspense.
While awaiting news, he telegraphed a description of the abductor
to the officers of all the towns, north, south, and west, and after the
lapse of several days received a letter from the Denver chief of
police, stating that the description fitted one of the most daring and
conscienceless scoundrels in the West, one whose whereabouts had
been unknown for many years.
He had been the leader of a gang of outlaws whose range of
operations extended from Mexico to Dakota. Five years before the
gang had been broken up, but Black-face Ned and three of his men
had escaped and gone south toward Mexico.
This intelligence increased Colonel Hayden’s alarm. He chafed at
the suspense, and would have taken the field himself if the members
of one of the pursuing parties had not returned ten days after
setting out.
The leader reported that the trail had been followed into Colorado,
and there lost.
Soon afterward the other pursuers returned. They had failed to
trace the abductor.
Colonel Hayden obtained leave of absence from the government,
had Buffalo Bill detailed to assist him, and a month after the
abduction they stood on the edge of the Colorado desert, the king of
scouts having picked up the trail the cowboys had lost, and followed
it to the desert. Here the services of the Hualapi had been secured
on the strong recommendation of Buffalo Bill.
It was early morning when the little party, with the Indian in the
lead, took their way across the desert. An expert reader of signs, the
Hualapi was soon able to announce that the trail was but one day
old. There were many indications—among them the dew that had
fallen, the dust or sand that had drifted into the track, the condition
of the occasional tufts of dry grass which had been pressed
underfoot and had partially regained upright shape, and minute
marks upon the rocks—that told a plain story to the trailer.
After traveling slowly for a mile, the Indian stopped, straightened
himself, and looked knowingly at the king of scouts.
Buffalo Bill rode forward and asked: “What is it, Panecho?”
“Sacks on feet; heap smart trick, ugh!”
The grunt of contempt caused the scout to smile.
“Meant to fool the ordinary white man, but it doesn’t fool you,
eh?”
The Indian nodded. He had been following a very faint trail made
by two horses whose feet had been muffled.
“Bimeby sacks come off,” Panecho said. “Then we go fast.”
On the trailer went, and late in the afternoon reached a spur of
the Hualapi Mountains. Ten minutes later the Indian held up his
hand. He had lost the trail.
Colonel Hayden uttered a sigh of acute disappointment. Buffalo
Bill looked at the officer, half in contempt, half in pity.
“Lost for the moment,” he said; “but Panecho will soon pick it up
again, or I’ll miss my guess.”
The Indian made a motion that the king of scouts understood. A
triangle was formed, the point where the last vestige of the trail had
been seen being in the center of the base. Moving from each of the
three points, the colonel, Buffalo Bill, and the Hualapi began a
search for the missing trail. The colonel, who had watched the
Indian closely during the ride across the desert, and whose eyes
were sharpened by anxiety, was the one who found it. The mark was
small, and so faint that the officer had to look twice to be sure of it.
He did not shout his discovery, for silence was the order of the day,
but motioned with his hand. The Indian ran up, looked at the mark,
and then hurried on, to soon find another mark.
Now the pursuit was resumed, and when an hour before dark a
point was reached, where there were evidences that the sacks had
been discarded, the colonel was in a state of hopeful excitement.
 There upon the ground was the impress of a horse’s hoof. The trail
now became more distinct, and the Indian went forward with a
celerity that delighted while it astonished the colonel.
At dark a halt was made.
The pursuers were now at the mouth of a narrow pass. Nothing
could be done until next morning, for Buffalo Bill knew that to try to
follow the trail by lantern light would not only be slow and vexatious
work, but might be attended with grave danger. If Black-face Ned
was near at hand, and he might be, the light would give him
opportunity to pot every one of the pursuers.
Camp was made, and after a cold supper the two white men and
the Hualapi found soft places, and stretched themselves out for a
few hours’ much-needed rest. Buffalo Bill was up before daybreak.
He roused the Indian, and then turned to walk toward the spot—the
lee of a bowlder—where the colonel had lain, and was amazed to
discover that the soldier had gone.
Both the king of scouts and the Hualapi were light sleepers, and it
seemed strange that the colonel should have departed without
awakening either of them. Not far away from the camp was a small
creek, and, in the hope that the colonel had gone to the water for a
drink, Buffalo Bill went down the sloping bank, and soon stood on
the water’s edge. It was now light enough for the scout to see for
some distance about him.
There was no sign of Colonel Hayden anywhere.
As the king of scouts stood and wondered, the Hualapi came to
his side.
“Him heap make sneak,” said the Indian, with many nods. “Go
away, think he catch bad man asleep.”
“He must have crawled off noiselessly, so as not to disturb us,”
replied Bill irritably. “I shall have to give him a sharp lecture when he
comes back.”
“Him heap fool, may spoil game,” said the Indian.
 The words had scarcely left the Hualapi’s mouth before there
came a sharp report, and a rifle bullet ended the speaker’s career.
Quick upon the shot Buffalo Bill dropped to the ground. The move
saved the scout’s life, for a second report had followed the first.
Buffalo Bill had dropped near the trunk of a large cottonwood. He
was behind it in a twinkling, and with pistol in hand—he had left his
rifle at the camp—awaited the next move of the assassin.
Five minutes passed and not a sound broke the stillness. The
enemy must be still on the spot whence the shots had been fired. If
he had moved, the king of scouts must have assuredly have heard
him.
“He is waiting for full daylight,” was the scout’s conclusion. “Well,
so am I.”
Back of Buffalo Bill was the creek, and across the creek was a wall
of rock that rose sheer to a height of one hundred feet. There was,
therefore, no danger of an attack from behind.
But one side of the scout’s place of shelter was exposed, that
which looked toward the camp. The other side was a mass of high,
thick brush.
At the expiration of ten minutes, the silence having continued
unbroken, Buffalo Bill stooped, picked up a three-foot section of the
dead branch of a tree, and then removed his sombrero. Placing the
hat at an end of the stick, he thrust it a few inches beyond the
cottonwood in the direction of camp. No shot followed. Either the
ruse was guessed, or the enemy had changed his position.
The situation was a ticklish one. If the scout stepped out into the
open space he might become a target for a murderous bullet, while
if he crawled into the brush he might encounter a similar danger.
Where had the enemy gone? Buffalo Bill tried to put himself in the
unknown’s place. After a few moments’ thought, he said to himself:
“He has probably sneaked noiselessly to a point nearer the camp. He
has seen the rifle, and he believes that I will, after a time, return
there. I will return, but not in the way he expects.”
 There was but the space of a few yards between the tree and the
creek, which carried a deep and swiftly running body of water.
Buffalo Bill flattened himself, crawled in safety to the water, and
then softly entered it. Keeping his head as low as was possible, he
allowed the strong current to carry him a quarter of a mile. Then he
swam to shore, mounted the bank, and halted at the trail.
Full daylight had come, and the scout could almost see the camp
from where he stood.
The way thither was along a rock-bordered path, with here and
there a tree.
Buffalo Bill looked at the trail, shook his head, and then turned his
eyes up the bank of the cañon.
Here the trees were more numerous, and there were many
bowlders, and a few flat places where the mesquite flourished.
The king of scouts, without hesitation, went up the bank, and by
stooping and crawling managed to reach a spot above and not
twenty yards from the camp without having been seen.
He could see the rifles, and knew by this that the enemy had not
as yet entered the camp.
But the scout did not move from his place of concealment. He had
a shrewd idea of the situation, and was not surprised when, after a
short time, he heard a noise in the brush below him and close to the
camp.
Presently a tall, muscular Indian stepped into the open and moved
toward the rifles.
Buffalo Bill, who had expected to see Black-face Ned, was
astonished and puzzled when the redskin, an Apache, stepped into
view.
A bullet from the scout’s pistol would have laid the Indian low, but
Buffalo Bill did not desire to fire the shot if the action could with
safety be avoided.
“I’ll capture him, if I can, and make him tell me what brought him
here, and why he killed the Hualapi.”
 With this thought in his mind, Buffalo Bill watched the Apache
until he saw the Indian stoop to gather up the rifles. Then he rushed
down the bank with such speed that he was close to the Apache
when that astonished aborigine raised his head.
The next moment the scout’s fist shot out with catapultic power,
and the Indian measured his length on the ground.
Blows were rained on the victim’s head until he was reduced to a
state of insensibility.
 CHAPTER X.
THE SCOUT CAPTURED.

Buffalo Bill did not remain by the side of his victim and await the
return of sense. He made practical use of his time. He ate his
breakfast, risking a small fire for coffee.
While he was eating, the Apache opened his eyes. For some time
he regarded the placid-faced king of scouts with a deeply malevolent
expression. But when he spoke in the tongue of his tribe, the
expression had disappeared.
“Coffee for the great white warrior, cold water for Thunder Cloud.”
Buffalo Bill started, then looked at the Apache keenly. “So you are
the renowned Thunder Cloud, are you?” he inquired in the Indian
language.
The Apache nodded, and there was pride in his look.
“A chief,” the king of scouts went on reproachfully, “who stoops to
the work of the slinking, murderous brave. Thunder Cloud has
forfeited the respect of his foes.”
The Indian’s eyes blazed with anger. “The great white warrior
speaks without thought. Thunder Cloud was whipped like a dog by
the white captain, and now he is a chief without a tribe.”
“Yes, I heard of that whipping,” returned the king of scouts
cuttingly. “Thunder Cloud broke his parole, and Captain Foster
punished him.”
The Indian gnashed his teeth in savage recollection of the action
which had disgraced him in the eyes of the Americans.
 There was silence for a few moments. Buffalo Bill broke it by
asking: “Would the chief like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes,” was the quick answer.
The coffee was drunk, and then the king of scouts, believing the
Indian to be in a fairly quiet frame of mind, said:
“Why did the chief kill Panecho, the Hualapi?”
Thunder Cloud frowned. He did not answer the question.
It was repeated, and with sternness. The Apache noted the
menacing expression in the scout’s eyes, and mumbled something
about an old feud.
“You are dodging the issue, Thunder Cloud,” said Buffalo Bill
sharply. “I must know the truth. You are in my power. Why should I
not kill you?”
The Indian shut his lips tightly. He was a stoic. “Why not?” he
repeated.
The king of scouts took a new tack. “What if I take you to the
village of the Hualapis and deliver you over to the brothers of
Panecho?”
Thunder Cloud shivered. “No, no,” he entreated. “Let the great
white warrior take his revenge. Thunder Cloud is content to die by
the hand of Buffalo Bill.”
The king of scouts appeared to seriously consider the matter. “I’ll
tell you what I will do,” he said, after a pause. “I will deal with you
myself, if you, on your part, will tell me what made you shoot
Panecho, and why you are in my camp, a spy.”
The Apache, who was without honor, and who would have
betrayed his best friend if he saw a chance of personal profit,
promptly replied: “Thunder Cloud killed Panecho because the
Hualapi was hot on the trail of Thunder Cloud’s friend.”
“Just as I supposed,” remarked Buffalo Bill quietly. “You have hired
yourself out to that white villain, Black-face Ned.”
Thunder Cloud nodded, and then in answer to another question
said that Colonel Hayden had been overcome while he was walking
along the trail.
Buffalo Bill guessed how the colonel had been caught. He had
arisen early and had gone down the cañon, hoping to come upon
the camp of the abductor of his daughter before the coming of
daylight. On the way he had been attacked by a sentinel posted by
the white outlaw, and was now in the power of the man he had so
much cause to hate and fear.
“How long has Black-face Ned been in camp?” the scout asked.
“Since yesterday morning.”
“Who is with him?”
“Three white men.”
This was unlooked-for intelligence. The king of scouts arose to his
feet. The situation had changed. It would not be safe to remain
longer in this open space. The four white men, all outlaws, so
Buffalo Bill believed, would not likely stay in camp longer than was
necessary for the return of Thunder Cloud, who had been sent up
the trail to ascertain who had come with Colonel Hayden.
After placing a gag in the Indian’s mouth, the scout concealed two
of the rifles, and with the third in his hand left the camp and stole
noiselessly toward the rendezvous of the enemy.
As he went forward he considered the statement the Indian had
made. Black-face Ned was with friends. Did he expect to find them
in the Hualapi hills when he set out across the desert? The scout
believed that the meeting had been prearranged. The three white
men were probably the members of Black-face Ned’s band who had
eluded capture when the band was broken up. The rendezvous in
the hills was an old one, and was probably off the trail and in a
secure place.
After an hour’s journey, Buffalo Bill heard a suspicious noise in the
bushes in front of him. He instantly left the trail, and, climbing the
hill, got behind a bowlder.
He was scarcely out of sight before two white men appeared on
the trail directly below him.
 One was tall, lean, and angular, with a broken nose and an ugly
disfigurement of the lower lip. One-half of the lip was of treble the
thickness of the other half, and hung down so as to disclose the
teeth, which were long, yellow, and fanglike. The eyes were small
and piercing, and looked out under shaggy brows that were
contracted in a habitual scowl.
The other man was shorter in stature, had a round, red face, with
a happy-go-lucky expression. He was red-haired, and wore a shoe-
brush mustache. The tall man was smooth-faced.
The king of scouts recognized the men as two of the most
dangerous and desperate criminals in the West. Before their
association with Black-face Ned they had been allied with the border
ruffians of Kansas. In that State Buffalo Bill had met them, and the
short man bore upon his body the marks of a luckless encounter
with the king of scouts.
“Shorty Sands and Flag-pole Jack,” muttered the scout, under his
breath. “I’ll bet the third rascal is that sneak, Bat Wason. The three
were pards in the old Kansas days, and Wason was the slickest and
the most dangerous scoundrel of the trio.”
To the scout’s intense satisfaction, the desperadoes stopped at the
point of Buffalo Bill’s departure from the trail, and began an earnest
conversation.
“The Indian knows his biz,” said Shorty Sands, “and I’ll gamble he
has made a killin’. Thar’s shore no use in gittin’ skeered, fer Thunder
Cloud hed only a pigeon-hearted Hualapi ter contend with.”
“Don’t ye fool yerself,” responded Flag-pole Jack, with a deepening
of his scowl. “Ther ole kunnel war too foxy ter give away the hull
business. He allowed thar war only one man with him. Mebbe he
lied. Mebbe Thunder Cloud slipped his neck inter a trap when he
pranced inter the camp of ther kunnel. I ain’t plottin’ ter foller his
example. Not by a overwhelmin’ majority.”
“What’s yer idee?” inquired Sands.
“My idee is ter separate right hyer. One of us will keep on ther
trail, an’ ther t’other will crope up ther hill an’ git round ther camp.”
 “All right,” said Sands. “I’ll take ther hill.”
The tall villain smiled contemptuously. “Aimin’ ter hit ther easiest
snap, aire ye? Well, take it, I don’t keer. Ther walkin’s better along
the trail.”
He might have added: “I’ll go mighty slow until I see how you
come out,” but he didn’t.
Shorty Sands was about to start, when a rattlesnake crawled out
of a hole in the bank, and, at sight of the outlaw, coiled and rattled.
The snake was between Buffalo Bill’s bowlder and the trail. Shorty
Sands uttered a cry, and then drew his revolver to fire. A warning
from his companion to desist came too late. The revolver cracked,
and the snake, unharmed, leaped its length toward the shooter.
Then it was that Buffalo Bill, excited by the shot, the meaning of
which he did not understand, showed his head. He saw the snake,
saw Flag-pole Jack taking aim to shoot, and was about to give
warning of his presence, so that the fight should be a fair one, when
a series of yelps, like those of wolves, made him quickly turn his
head.
The snake was dead as the two outlaws, as much amazed as the
king of scouts, looked up the bank.
There in two lines, of a dozen each, crouched a curious and
startling body of human beings. Each was arrayed in wolfskins, and
each face was masked with the face of a wolf.
But the long, black hair, that protruded below each wolfskin cap,
told Buffalo Bill that the strange newcomers were Indians.
While the scout and the outlaws stared at the wolfish crew, taking
note at the same time that each member was armed with rifle and
tomahawk, the leader cried out in good English: “Surrender or we
fire.”
The king of scouts looked down at Flag-pole Jack and Shorty
Sands. The outlaws now saw him for the first time, for, upon turning
to gaze up at the fantastic crew, he had withdrawn his head from in
front of the bowlder.
 “Buffalo Bill!” gasped Shorty Sands. “We’re in for it now.” As he
spoke, he believed that the disguised Indians were allies of the
famous border fighter.
“Don’t make a mistake, Shorty,” said the scout coolly. “We are in
the same boat.” Then he added: “Go up, you two, and do the
surrender act. I’ll follow suit.”
“I’ll be hanged if I give in,” snarled Flag-pole Jack. “Hyer goes.” He
jumped down the bank, but a rifle bullet grazed his head before his
feet struck the ground. “That’s a reminder,” yelled the leader of the
Wolves sternly. “The next shot will be to kill.”
The outlaw, with many curses, returned to the trail.
As he was on the way, the Wolves marched down the hill.
Buffalo Bill was not foolhardy enough to try to make a stand
against two dozen armed enemies. He stood up, rifle grounded, and
smiled when the leader of the Wolves approached.
“Fine morning for ducks,” the scout remarked, as he tried to read
the expression of the eyes that looked out of the holes in the mask.
“And for lulus. You’re one, Cody, all right.”
Buffalo Bill started. The leader of this fantastic band was a white
man. “I failed to catch your name,” he said politely, as he craned his
head in the direction of the stranger.
The Wolf laughed. “The wind must have blown it away, I reckon,”
he replied shortly. Then he added brusquely: “Give up your arms to
my adjutant here, and place yourself in his hands.”
So saying, he marched down to the trail. Standing before the two
outlaws, he looked them over from head to foot. “Pards of Black-face
Ned, eh?” he said coldly.
No answer.
“Drop your guns!” The weapons struck the ground instanter. “Now
go up the hill and submit to be bound. No monkey business, or Ned
will be mourning your departure for a warmer clime than Arizona.”
With black brows, Sands and his companion obeyed the order.
Soon the three prisoners were conducted to the retreat of the
Wolves. It was at the head of a ravine about five miles south of the
cañon trail, and Buffalo Bill was surprised when he reached the spot.
It was forty feet above the bed of the ravine, and was nothing less
than one of the old habitations of the extinct cliff dwellers.
The wall into which the habitation had been cut was of irregular
formation, and nearly perpendicular. There seemed no way of
reaching the holes either from the top or the base of the ridge. But
there was a way to get up, and this passage was soon revealed.
Halting his band at a point directly below the holes in the rock, the
leader of the Wolves gave the hoot of an owl. A head showed at one
of the entrances, and as soon as it disappeared the leader marched
forward to a large bowlder that rested against the face of the wall.
With one hand he gave the huge rock a turn, and it swung back to
reveal an opening large enough for a man to enter without stooping.
Inside of a minute the king of scouts found himself in the chamber
of a cave. Upon the floor about the middle of the chamber was a
cage, such as is used by miners in underground journeyings, and
attached to it were stout ropes.
Looking up, the scout saw the opening through which the cage
had descended, and understood how entrance to the cliff dwellings
was obtained.
The prisoners were sent first, a windlass at the top furnishing the
motive power.
Buffalo Bill had been in many of these dwellings, and found the
one that received him to be like the others he had seen. All the
furniture was of stone, but to the utensils of the Aztecs had been
added many of the modern implements of easy, practical
convenience.
There were three large rooms, each provided with a cliff outlook,
and furnished with stone seats and a plethora of bear and buffalo
skins.
But one Wolf was in the dwelling to receive the prisoners. He was
an Indian, and never opened his mouth until the windlass had
performed its office.
 He then addressed the leader in the tongue of a nation that had
been considered as practically extinct for many years.
“It is well,” he said.
“Comanche,” muttered Buffalo Bill, under his breath. “These reds
may turn out to be friends. Uncle Sam has had no trouble with them
for a long time. I didn’t know there was a single one of them in
Arizona.”
Shorty Sands and Flag-pole Jack were placed under guard in one
of the rooms. The king of scouts was taken to another, and soon
found himself alone with the leader.
The latter threw himself upon the stone floor near a couch of skins
that served as the resting place of the prisoner.
“Well,” he remarked slowly, “how does it strike you?”
“The situation?”
“Yes. Sort of puzzling, isn’t it?”
The voice was muffled, but Buffalo Bill was sure that he had heard
it before.
“Take off that wolf mask and let me see your face,” he said
persuasively. “You have got me in a hole, so that there need be no
further use for a disguise.”
“Think so?” was the imperturbable response.
“Yes. You know me, and I’ll bet a hat I know you. The question is,
are you an enemy or are you a friend?”
“Yes, that’s the question.” A pause, and then the quick inquiry:
“Have you ever heard of my outfit?”
“No.”
“We are the remnants of the bravest and most fearless nation of
redskins that ever made Uncle Sam sit up and take notice. The
disguise was adopted at the suggestion of the leader who preceded
me, and who was killed by a fall about a month ago. We are the
natural enemies of the Apaches, and Silver Moon, the dead one,
thought the Comanches could better work in wolfskin than in their
ordinary raiment.”
 “What do you call yourselves?”
“The Yelping Crew. Appropriate name, isn’t it?”
“Very,” said Buffalo Bill dryly. The leader of the Crew lazily lighted
a cigarette, then tossed paper and tobacco pouch to the prisoner.
“We yelp to some purpose,” the strange man continued. “During
the last year we have wiped out seventy Apaches.”
“Then you cannot be an enemy of mine or an enemy of the United
States government?”
“No-o,” was the slow reply. “I am not your enemy, and yet I am
not quite ready to say I am your friend.”
“How can that be? You must be one thing or the other?”
“Let me explain,” returned the leader of the Yelping Crew
composedly. “You were found with two of the worst rascals in
America. These fellows, Flag-pole Jack and Shorty Sands—you see, I
know them—the pards of Black-face Ned, who is hand in glove with
the Apaches. Thunder Cloud is with Black-face Ned now.”
“Beg pardon,” interrupted Buffalo Bill quickly, “but you are in error
on two points. Thunder Cloud is not with Black-face Ned, and
Thunder Cloud has been cast out by the Apaches.”
“I may not have literally struck it when I said Thunder Cloud is
now with Ned,” replied the disguised white man calmly, “but I did
strike it when I said Ned is thick with the Apaches. The chief has not
been cast out by this tribe. He broke his parole, and was whipped
like a dog, but his tribe did not turn on him for a little thing like that.
On the contrary, his braves backed him up when he swore revenge.
He has plotted to kill the captain who ordered the lashes and the
colonel who approved the order.”
The king of scouts felt a cold chill strike his spine. “What is the
colonel’s name?” he asked.
“Hayden.”
A groan escaped the brave scout’s lips. The keen eyes behind the
wolf mask expressed both curiosity and sympathy.
 There ensued a long pause. It was broken by Buffalo Bill.
Speaking abruptly, he said:
“I am putting you up to be a friend. I need a friend’s help. I not
only desire to be set at liberty, but I want your assistance. Will you
give it?”
The leader of the Yelping Crew laughed softly. “You are not very
modest in your demands,” he replied coolly.
“I am what I am,” rejoined the king of scouts sharply. Then he
went on quickly and earnestly: “Colonel Hayden is a prisoner in the
hands of Black-face Ned. Thunder Cloud is down in the cañon bound
hand and foot. I surprised him while he was trying to execute a
murderous order given him by Black-face Ned. The Indian must be
removed from the cañon or the outlaw will find and release him.”
The white chief of the Comanches arose to his feet. “Why did you
not tell me this before?” he asked.
“Could I tell you before I was sure you were in sympathy with my
cause?” was the cold reply.
“No, certainly not. You were wise to hold back your story. You
want my help in getting Colonel Hayden out of the clutches of Black-
face Ned and his Indian and white marauders and murderers. Well,
you shall have it. I never meant to keep you a prisoner. Your capture
was a joke.”
“A joke?”—gazing at the masked leader in astonishment. “Why
——”
A ringing laugh cut short the speech. “Fooled you to the limit, old
son. Never guessed the deception, did you?”
Buffalo Bill stared hard at the speaker. The truth was creeping into
his mind.
With one quick movement the wolf face was removed.
The king of scouts looked up into the smiling countenance of Wild
Bill Hickok.
 CHAPTER XI.
AN OLD FRIEND REAPPEARS.

The two old-time partners and fellow scouts and Indian fighters
grasped hands, Wild Bill’s knife having quickly cut the thongs that
had held the prisoner’s wrists. After the handclasp, the king of
scouts was given the use of his feet.
Before entering upon an explanation, Wild Bill issued an order to
three of his Indians and they immediately set out to find Thunder
Cloud and convey him to the cliff.
“Now,” said Wild Bill, after the Comanches had departed, “I’ll try
to satisfy your curiosity.”
Buffalo Bill, seated on the couch of skins and smoking a fine cigar,
nodded. “You are in a curious position,” he said. “I can’t imagine
how you got into it.”
“Accident, Cody, put me where I am. I had been hunting over on
the Continental Divide when, unluckily, I provided myself with a
badly sprained ankle. I couldn’t travel, and I believe I would have
starved to death if one of the Yelping Crew had not seen and come
to my rescue. The band was far away from their stamping ground—
they had been out hunting like myself—and so I was brought here.
Their chief was dead, and there was no one in the band capable of
leading them. Some of them knew me by reputation, and when I
was well enough to get about, what do you think? I was asked to
become the chief, pro tem.”
“Pro tem?” repeated Buffalo Bill. “Why not permanently?”
“Because there was a Comanche in the line of succession. The
fellow was in Mexico, and a messenger had been sent there to notify
him that he could be chief of the Yelpers if he cared to undertake
the job.”
“You accepted—your position here shows that, Hickok. But what
induced you to do so?”
“A desire to assist the United States government. The Apaches are
giving trouble again, and the soldier boys are having hard work to
find them. Now, my Yelpers know all the Apaches’ holes, and they
are the sworn enemies of the Apaches. Already we have had one
brush with the enemy, and it was a win-out.”
“Why have you not descended on Black-face Ned and his gang?”
“For the very good reason that none of the gang were in this
neighborhood until two days ago. We are now preparing to light
down on the murderous outfit and wipe it off the face of the earth.”
Buffalo Bill, having heard Wild Bill’s explanation, astonished the
tall border fighter by telling him of the abduction of pretty Sybil
Hayden and the events of the past twenty-four hours.
“We must move just as soon as my Yelpers get back with Thunder
Cloud,” said Wild Bill resolutely. “I’ll make Thunder Cloud tell me
where the outlaws are, and if we don’t give them a hot surprise, I’ll
resign my job and go to herding squirrels.”
Before the expiration of an hour the three Comanches returned.
The Apache chief was not with them. They had found the camp of
Buffalo Bill, but it was deserted.
“Rescued by Black-face Ned,” was Buffalo Bill’s sour comment. “I
half expected it.”
In answer to questions put by Wild Bill, the spokesman of the trio
stated that two white men had gone away from the camp with
Thunder Cloud. The trail had been followed for a mile. There it
ended on the sandy shore of the creek.
“Took to the water,” said Wild Bill understandingly. “Never mind.
We’ll find them, for I have trailers who can match any Hualapi that
ever ate rattlesnakes.”
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