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      Buffalo Bill, Peacemaker; On a Troublesome Trail, by Colonel Prentiss Ingraham&mdash;A Project Gutenberg eBook
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 64446 ***</div>

<div class="figcenter illowp48" id="cover" style="max-width: 52.125em;">
  <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" />
</div>

<hr class="chap p6 pg-brk" />

<h1>Buffalo Bill, Peacemaker<br />

<span class="fs50">OR,</span><br />

<span class="fs70">ON A TROUBLESOME TRAIL</span></h1>

<p class="pfs80 p6">BY</p>

<p class="pfs135">Colonel Prentiss Ingraham</p>

<p class="pfs90">Author of the celebrated “Buffalo Bill” stories published in the<br />
<span class="smcap">Border Stories</span>. For other titles see catalogue.</p>

<div class="figcenter illowe5_8125" id="colophon">
  <img class="w100 p3" src="images/colophon.jpg"  alt="Colophon" />
</div>

<p class="pfs120 p4">STREET &amp; SMITH CORPORATION</p>
<p class="pfs90 bold">PUBLISHERS</p>
<p class="pfs120">79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York</p>

<hr class="chap p10pc" />

<div class="bbox pg-brk">

<p class="p2 pfs100">Copyright, 1910</p>
<p class="pfs100">By STREET &amp; SMITH</p>
<hr class="r10" />
<p class="pfs100 pb2">Buffalo Bill, Peacemaker</p>
</div>

<p class="pfs80">(Printed in the United States of America)</p>

<p class="pfs90">All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign<br />
languages, including the Scandinavian.</p>

<div class="chapter">

<hr class="chap" />

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
</div>

<table class="autotable fs90" width="85%" summary="">
<tr>
<td class="tdr"></td>
<td class="tdl"></td>
<td class="tdr fs80">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr"></td>
<td class="tdl">IN APPRECIATION OF WILLIAM F. CODY</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE PRISONER IN THE DUGOUT.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">5</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE GAME OF “FREEZE OUT.”</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III.</td>
<td class="tdl">FLUSH DAYS IN TEXAS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE SKY PILOT TAKES A HAND.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td class="tdl">“COME-ALONGS.”</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td class="tdl">PARDS IN COUNCIL.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII.</td>
<td class="tdl">AT THE H-P RANCH.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">A DASH FOR FREEDOM.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX.</td>
<td class="tdl">DUTCH COURAGE.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X.</td>
<td class="tdl">IN TROUBLED WATERS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE MAN WITH A WARNING.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII.</td>
<td class="tdl">AT LIGE BENNER’S RANCH.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">A FIENDISH PLOT.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIV.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE HUNCHBACK’S QUICK WIT.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XV.</td>
<td class="tdl">A “FLASH IN THE PAN.”</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVI.</td>
<td class="tdl">HELD BY THE ENEMY.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVII.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE PLOT AT HACKAMORE.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XVIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">BUFFALO BILL’S SUMMONS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIX.</td>
<td class="tdl">AT ODDS WITH THE SHERIFF.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XX.</td>
<td class="tdl">IN A GOOD CAUSE.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXI.</td>
<td class="tdl">LONG ODDS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXII.</td>
<td class="tdl">PEACE ON THE BRAZOS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">RED THUNDERBOLT.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIV.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE QUARREL.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXV.</td>
<td class="tdl">SIM PIERCE BRINGS NEWS.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVI.</td>
<td class="tdl">THE MOB FROM PHELPS’ RANCH.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVII.</td>
<td class="tdl">BENNER’S CHANGE OF HEART.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td>
<td class="tdl">IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXIX.</td>
<td class="tdl">RED STEVE.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XXX.</td>
<td class="tdl">CONCLUSION.</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td>
</tr>
</table>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[Pg 1]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="IN_APPRECIATION_OF_WILLIAM_F_CODY">IN APPRECIATION OF WILLIAM F. CODY<br />
<span class="fs70">(BUFFALO BILL).</span></h2>
</div>


<p>It is now some generations since Josh Billings, Ned
Buntline, and Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, intimate friends
of Colonel William F. Cody, used to forgather in the
office of Francis S. Smith, then proprietor of the <cite>New
York Weekly</cite>. It was a dingy little office on Rose Street,
New York, but the breath of the great outdoors stirred
there when these old-timers got together. As a result of
these conversations, Colonel Ingraham and Ned Buntline
began to write of the adventures of Buffalo Bill
for Street &amp; Smith.</p>

<p>Colonel Cody was born in Scott County, Iowa, February
26, 1846. Before he had reached his teens, his
father, Isaac Cody, with his mother and two sisters,
migrated to Kansas, which at that time was little more
than a wilderness.</p>

<p>When the elder Cody was killed shortly afterward in
the Kansas “Border War,” young Bill assumed the difficult
rôle of family breadwinner. During 1860, and until
the outbreak of the Civil War, Cody lived the arduous
life of a pony-express rider. Cody volunteered his services
as government scout and guide and served throughout
the Civil War with Generals McNeil and A. J.
Smith. He was a distinguished member of the Seventh
Kansas Cavalry.</p>

<p>During the Civil War, while riding through the streets
of St. Louis, Cody rescued a frightened schoolgirl from
a band of annoyers. In true romantic style, Cody and
Louisa Federci, the girl, were married March 6, 1866.</p>

<p>In 1867 Cody was employed to furnish a specified
amount of buffalo meat to the construction men at work
on the Kansas Pacific Railroad. It was in this period
that he received the sobriquet “Buffalo Bill.”</p>

<p>In 1868 and for four years thereafter Colonel Cody<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>
served as scout and guide in campaigns against the Sioux
and Cheyenne Indians. It was General Sheridan who
conferred on Cody the honor of chief of scouts of the
command.</p>

<p>After completing a period of service in the Nebraska
legislature, Cody joined the Fifth Cavalry in 1876, and
was again appointed chief of scouts.</p>

<p>Colonel Cody’s fame had reached the East long before,
and a great many New Yorkers went out to see
him and join in his buffalo hunts, including such men
as August Belmont, James Gordon Bennett, Anson
Stager, and J. G. Heckscher. In entertaining these
visitors at Fort McPherson, Cody was accustomed to
arrange wild-West exhibitions. In return his friends
invited him to visit New York. It was upon seeing his
first play in the metropolis that Cody conceived the idea
of going into the show business.</p>

<p>Assisted by Ned Buntline, novelist, and Colonel Ingraham,
he started his “Wild West” show, which later
developed and expanded into “<ins class="corr" id="tn2" title="Transcriber’s Note—“A Congress of the Rough-riders of the World” changed to “A Congress of the Rough Riders of the World”.">A Congress of the Rough Riders of the World</ins>,”
first presented at Omaha, Nebraska. In time it became a familiar
yearly entertainment in the great cities of this country and Europe.
Many famous personages attended the performances, and became his warm
friends, including Mr. Gladstone, the Marquis of Lorne, King Edward,
Queen Victoria, and the Prince of Wales, now King of England.</p>

<p>At the outbreak of the Sioux, in 1890 and 1891,
Colonel Cody served at the head of the Nebraska National
Guard. In 1895 Cody took up the development
of Wyoming Valley by introducing irrigation. Not long
afterward he became judge advocate general of the
Wyoming National Guard.</p>

<p>Colonel Cody (Buffalo Bill) died in Denver, Colorado,
on January 10, 1917. His legacy to a grateful world was
a large share in the development of the West, and a
multitude of achievements in horsemanship, marksmanship,
and endurance that will live for ages. His life
will continue to be a leading example of the manliness,
courage, and devotion to duty that belonged to a picturesque
phase of American life now passed, like the great
patriot whose career it typified, into the Great Beyond.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p>

<p class="pfs180">BUFFALO BILL, PEACEMAKER.</p>

<hr class="r10" />

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE PRISONER IN THE DUGOUT.</span></h2>
</div>

<p>Fate was in a very capricious mood when Buffalo Bill
and his pards carried their activities into the Lone Star
State. They galloped over the plains and plunged full
tilt into one of the most surprising misplays ever made
by that arrant gamester&mdash;Chance.</p>

<p>There was a triangle of blunders, and it so happened
that there was a pard in each corner, ready to take advantage
of what came his way and turn misfortune into
fortune for Cattleman Perry, his daughter Hattie,
and a worthy cowboy of the name of Dunbar. The powerful
clique of cattle barons were beaten at their own
game of freeze out&mdash;and for this they had the scout and
his pards to thank.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill dropped into his corner of the complication
on the wide grazing grounds, en route to the town
of Hackamore, where he was to join Wild Bill, old
Nomad, the trapper, who had shared many dangers with
the scout, Baron von Schuitzenhauser, his Dutch pard,
and Little Cayuse, his Indian trailer. And when it is
said that he “dropped” into the complication, the statement
is to be taken literally.</p>

<p>It was a night, a night made brilliant by moon and stars.
The scout was two days from Portales, New Mexico,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>
having diverged from the trail taken by his pards in
order to halt for half a day in the town of Texico.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill was off the trail, a plainsman having
shown him a short cut that was to save many miles of
saddle work. As Bear Paw forged ahead at a slow,
steady gallop, the scout rocked gently in his saddle,
half dozing.</p>

<p>He did not see the stovepipe that rose out of the
ground in front of him, nor did he see the little ridgelike
lifting of the earth adjacent to the stovepipe.</p>

<p>Bear Paw saw the pipe, however, and to evade it attempted
to cross the small elevation. Intelligent horse
though he was, how was he to know that elevation was
not solid earth?</p>

<p>The black charger was in for a surprise. It was
sprung with demoralizing suddenness.</p>

<p>Two strides carried Bear Paw over the high point of
the ridge; a third stride brought a crash under his rear
hoofs, and the after part of his body slumped downward.</p>

<p>A startled yell, seemingly coming out of the very
earth, smote on the scout’s ears.</p>

<p>Caught at a disadvantage by the accident, Buffalo Bill
was thrown backward out of his saddle and clear of the
struggling horse.</p>

<p>Bear Paw’s front hoofs were on solid ground and,
with a prodigious effort, he saved himself from sinking
and clambered to safety beyond the deceptive ridge. But
the scout dropped through the breach, grabbed at a log
rafter, missed it, and fell in a huddle for a distance of ten
feet.</p>

<p>He brought up on all fours, jarred through and
through and blinking in a cloud of dust and a flood of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
lamplight. A clutter of dirt and broken poles lay around
him.</p>

<p>The transformation from an easy gallop over the cool,
open plain to this underground hole with its light and
dust, had been so abrupt that the scout was taken at a
loss.</p>

<p>But he was not the only one taken at a loss. In front
of him, as the flurry of dust was wafted aside, he saw a
strapping figure in hickory shirt, homespun trousers and
cowhide boots&mdash;a figure topped with a mop of red hair,
under which was a lean, leathery face.</p>

<p>The face of the figure was blank. Two washed-out
blue eyes stared at the scout; and the scout, on hands
and knees, stared back.</p>

<p>“Who in blazes are ye?” demanded the red-headed
man, all at once finding his voice.</p>

<p>“A stranger and a traveler,” answered the scout, the
ludicrous nature of the situation gradually appealing to
him. “A man who&mdash;er&mdash;a-tchoo!”</p>

<p>“What d’ye mean by knockin’ a hole in the roof an’
slammin’ in on me like this?” went on the other, coming
out of his surprise with a manner distinctly hostile.</p>

<p>The scout picked himself up slowly, felt of his bruises,
and gave vent to a grewsome laugh.</p>

<p>“If you think, amigo, that I meant to knock a hole
in your roof,” said he, “you’ve another guess coming. If
I had planned to pay you a visit I wouldn’t have gone
about it like this, would I?”</p>

<p>“How do I know who ye are, or what ye’d do?” fumed
the other, far and away more savage than the scout
thought the mishap warranted. “I don’t want no truck
with ye, anyways. If ye didn’t allow ter pay me a visit,
an’ if ye ain’t here from ch’ice, then yore next move is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>
ter git out as quick as ye come in. Them’s the stairs”&mdash;he
waved a hand toward a ladder that led upward to a
flat door in the roof&mdash;“an’ at the same time we says
hello, we also says good-by. Start yerself.”</p>

<p>“I’m not inclined to stay here any longer than you
want to have me,” answered the scout, “but I landed
with something of a jolt. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll
just catch my breath before I try the stairs.”</p>

<p>“It ain’t all the same ter me,” barked the man. “I
want ye ter go, an’ I want ye ter go ter oncet! With
this ter back up the invite, I reckon ye won’t stand
none on the order ter hike.”</p>

<p>The red-haired man made a swipe at his belt and lifted
a hairy hand with a six-shooter. Buffalo Bill looked
him in the eye and then coolly sat down on a two-legged
stool that happened to be handy.</p>

<p>“I’ve heard a good deal about Texas hospitality,” said
he, “but you’re giving it a hardware twist that I don’t
like. And when I don’t like a thing,” he added significantly,
“I’m apt to make it pretty plain.”</p>

<p>“Ye kain’t run in any rannikaboo on me,” snorted the
red-haired person, jabbing the air with the point of his
gun. “Ye say yer drappin’ in was a accident. I’m lettin’
it go at that, an’ givin’ ye a chance ter depart without
any fireworks. An’ I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ about the
damage ye done ter the dugout, nuther. Pick up yore
hat an’ scatter. I’ll count three. When I say ‘one,’ ye’ll
reach fer the hat; when I say ‘two,’ ye’ll be on the
stairs; an’ when I say ‘three,’ ye’ll either be through
that door in the roof or I’ll drop ye in yer tracks.”</p>

<p>The barbarous methods of this red-haired man were
utterly uncalled for. He was showing a spirit that needed
taming.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></p>

<p>Buffalo Bill dropped his eyes to the litter on the floor.
His hat lay there, and from under the brim of the hat
showed two inches of revolver-muzzle. One of the scout’s
six-shooters had been jarred from his belt and had
fallen under the sombrero.</p>

<p>“One!”</p>

<p>The word was a yelp, and the blued barrel of the
Texan’s gun looked the scout full in the face.</p>

<p>“All right,” said Buffalo Bill cheerily.</p>

<p>He reached for his hat with both hands. But only
one hand picked up the hat; the other caught the handle
of the six-shooter.</p>

<p>Then something happened which the Texan had not
been looking for. As the scout arose from the stool,
the report of a firearm split the air. A bullet passed
through the crown of the sombrero, singed the Texan’s
ear and clipped a lock of his red hair.</p>

<p>For an instant, barely an instant, the Texan’s revolver
shook uncertainly. That instant spelled opportunity for
the scout. With the speed of thought he grabbed the
hostile gun, jerked it away, and looked over the sights
at its owner.</p>

<p>“Why don’t you count ‘two?’” inquired the scout
pleasantly.</p>

<p>But the Texan had lost the count. Instead of trying
to find it, and go on with it, he began to swear.</p>

<p>“Sit down,” ordered Buffalo Bill. “I’ve caught my
breath, all right, but I want to read you a lesson in
common civility, and show you how to treat a traveler
who accidentally drops in on you through the roof of
your dugout.”</p>

<p>Some one laughed. It was not the red-haired man,
of course, for he was in anything but a merry mood.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
The laughter came from behind the scout, and was the
first intimation that there was any one else in the place.</p>

<p>The scout could not very well turn from the red-haired
man and investigate.</p>

<p>“Who’s doing that?” he demanded.</p>

<p>“You git right out o’ here!” flamed the red-haired
man. “This ain’t none o’ yore put-in, or&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“I wasn’t talking to you,” cut in the scout sharply.
“Who are you, behind there?”</p>

<p>“Nate Dunbar,” came the answer.</p>

<p>“If you’re a friend of this red-headed rawhide, Dunbar,”
proceeded the scout, “why don’t you step up behind
me and help him put me out?”</p>

<p>“For two reasons,” answered the voice behind. “First
off, neighbor, I’m no friend of Red Steve’s. Then, again,
I’m lashed and laid away on the shelf. If I was able to
move, I’d take Red Steve down and choke the breath
out of him.”</p>

<p>“Dunbar’s a hoss thief that I’ve captured,” cried Red
Steve, “an’ I want ye ter go on erbout yore bizness
an’ leave us alone.”</p>

<p>“I’m no horse thief,” said Dunbar, “and Red Steve
talks crooked. He’s working for Benner, and Phelps,
and the rest of those cattle barons on the Brazos. It’s
tin-horn work, too, and Red has to use the double
tongue.”</p>

<p>“I thought there was something more than just common
incivility back of his treatment of me,” observed the
scout, a glitter rising in the eyes that looked across the
revolver sights. “Don’t you try to talk!” he said sternly
to the man in front of him. “Walk around and take the
ropes off Dunbar. When I count ‘one,’ you’ll begin to
move; when I say ‘two,’ you’ll begin on the ropes; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
when I finish with ‘three,’ if Dunbar isn’t clear of his
bonds, I’ll do something more than singe your ear and
take a lock of your red hair. Chance, it seems, has
bobbled, and dropped me into the right place at just
about the right time. Now, then, one!”</p>

<p>There was that in the scout’s eyes and manner which
caused Red Steve to start promptly toward the other side
of the dugout. As he moved, the scout turned on the
stool and let the revolver follow him.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE GAME OF “FREEZE OUT.”</span></h2>
</div>


<p>On the plains of northwest Texas, in an early day, the
dugout was a popular institution. No wind could shake
such a house, and no earthquake could topple it over. In
most structures, a man begins at the bottom and builds
to the top, but in a dwelling like that under consideration
a man begins at the top and works downward.</p>

<p>The usual underground house measured about fifteen
by twenty feet, and was from seven to ten feet in height.
Some three feet from the floor the walls were abruptly
widened out, thus giving a shelf in the earthen wall. This
shelf extended around the whole room, and was three
feet in width&mdash;or more or less according to the fancy
of the owner.</p>

<p>The shelf took the place of chairs, of dining table and
of bunks. A few three-legged stools might be added, if
the one who occupied the underground house had the
wood and the time necessary to make them.</p>

<p>A fireplace was usually cut in the solid dirt wall and,
with an ordinary posthole augur, a chimney was bored
down to it. A joint of stovepipe, extending upward
from the top of the hole, gave the fireplace a chance
to breathe.</p>

<p>The construction of the roof was as simple as that of
the rest of the house.</p>

<p>A log was laid lengthwise across the top of the dugout,
in the direction of its greatest length. This was
the ridgepole. Smaller logs were then placed with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>
one end on this and the other on the ground. Poles
covered the rafters, hay covered the poles, and a layer
of earth covered the hay. A door was contrived in the
slant of roof from the ridgepole. Stairs communicating
with the door were sometimes cut in the solid earth, and
sometimes&mdash;as in the case of Red Steve’s dugout&mdash;the
only stairway was a stepladder.</p>

<p>In a cattle country, where cowboys go galloping recklessly
over the range, or where longhorns occasionally
stampede, it stands the dugout dweller in hand to make
his roof exceptionally strong. Either Red Steve had
failed to make his roof of the proper strength, or else
age had weakened it.</p>

<p>This was not the scout’s first visit to such a house,
but it was the first time he had ever dropped bodily
into a dugout and into the curious tangle he had found
in this one.</p>

<p>A tin lamp stood on the earthen shelf. Red Steve, covered
by the scout’s revolver, moved sullenly to the shelf
at the end of the dugout. There, somewhat in the
shadow, lay the form of a cowboy. The scout could not
see much of him, but he knew very well that he would
see more of him later.</p>

<p>“Two!” called Buffalo Bill. “That’s your cue to begin
the untying, Red Steve.”</p>

<p>“This ain’t goin’ ter be the end of this,” snarled the
red-haired Texan. “Ye ain’t got no bizness buttin’ in on
me an’ makin’ me let this feller go. Some big men
over on the Brazos’ll call ye ter time fer it.”</p>

<p>“I’ll foot any bill the big men over on the Brazos present,”
returned the scout. “Meanwhile, you heard what
I said a minute ago, Red Steve. Carry out your orders
and there’ll be no trouble.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span></p>

<p>“But ye don’t understand! This here galoot is a villain
from the spurs up, so&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“I can’t see much of him, but if he’s more of a villain
than you’ve shown yourself to be, I’ll be more surprised
than I was when I dropped through your roof. I said
‘two’ all of a minute ago,” the scout finished significantly.</p>

<p>Swearing under his breath, Red Steve went roughly to
work at the ropes on the prisoner’s hands.</p>

<p>“He’s trying to tear my arms off, I reckon,” growled
Nate Dunbar.</p>

<p>Bang!</p>

<p>Steve’s weapon spoke hoarsely from the scout’s hand.
A bullet “plunked” into the earth wall over the shelf,
fanning close to Steve’s face.</p>

<p>“I haven’t counted ‘three,’ yet,” said the scout, “so
that’s only a warning. Be a little more careful, Steve.”</p>

<p>The red-haired man, by that time, was firmly convinced
that his unwelcome visitor had not been talking
for effect. In a few moments he had removed the ropes.
Dunbar got off the shelf and stamped his feet and
thrashed his arms to get his blood back into normal circulation.</p>

<p>As he came out farther into the lamplight, Buffalo Bill
saw that he was an athletic young fellow, of about twenty-one
or two. He wore the high-heeled boots of a cowboy,
“chaps” were buckled about his waist, and a blue
flannel shirt covered his broad shoulders. His face
was frank and pleasing, not to say handsome.</p>

<p>“You don’t know much about me, pardner,” he remarked
to Buffalo Bill, “but I can show a clean record.”</p>

<p>“I’ll gamble on that, amigo,” said the scout. “Just
from the looks of you, Dunbar, I’m positive I haven’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
made any mistake. How did you happen to fall into
Red Steve’s clutches?”</p>

<p>“It was a put-up job,” was the answer. “Steve’s working
for the cattlemen over on the Brazos, and they were
paying him to keep me here until they figured out what
to do with me.”</p>

<p>“Are you a rancher?”</p>

<p>“I’m a cattleman, and I’ve an interest in Dick Perry’s
bunch of steers.”</p>

<p>“Who’s Dick Perry?”</p>

<p>“He’s the man the other cattlemen are trying to freeze
out.”</p>

<p>A scowl came over Dunbar’s face and his eye flashed
ominously.</p>

<p>“Why are the cattle barons trying to freeze him out?”
asked the scout, conscious of a deep interest in the young
cowboy and his fortunes.</p>

<p>“It’s all on account of Hattie.”</p>

<p>“Hattie?”</p>

<p>“Yes, Hattie Perry, Dick’s girl.”</p>

<p>“Ah! We’re running into romance, I reckon.”</p>

<p>The scowl faded from Dunbar’s face and a flush ran
through his bronzed cheeks.</p>

<p>“You’ve been a friend of mine, stranger,” said he,
“and I don’t mind throwing the proposition wide open
for you. Lige Benner has wanted to marry Hattie for
some time, and he asked her and got turned down. But
that didn’t phase him, and he went to Dick with his
proposition and got turned down again. Benner has
acted like more kind of a wolf in this business than I
know how to tell. When Perry turned on him, and told
him where he was to get off, he swore that he’d make<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
Perry so much trouble that Perry would give up Hattie
just to be able to live in peace.</p>

<p>“Right then and there, Benner started in to make
trouble. Perry’s steers were run off in bunches, some of
the ranch buildings were burned, and cowboys from
up and down the Brazos came pestering around, doing
all sorts of sneaking and underhand things. Every now
and then, Benner has some skulking puncher nail a note
to the ranch-house door telling Perry that he knows
what to do when he’s got enough.”</p>

<p>The scout muttered an angry exclamation.</p>

<p>“That’s a fine state of affairs,” said he. “I shouldn’t
think the other cattlemen would stand for such rascally
work.”</p>

<p>“Nor I, either; but they do. The rest of the barons
are friends of Benner’s, and they’re backing him to a
man. Perry’s a late comer on the range, and the cattlemen
would like to run him out. I reckon that’s the
reason they’re standing by Benner like they are.”</p>

<p>“But what has Benner got against you, Dunbar, that
he should have you roped and given into the custody
of Red Steve?”</p>

<p>“Well, stranger,” answered Nate Dunbar, with some
embarrassment, “Hattie has promised to marry me, and
that’s reason enough for Benner taking the sort of stand
against me that he does.”</p>

<p>“Oh!” exclaimed the scout, “so that’s how the wind
blows, is it? This free country of ours has dropped into
a fine state of lawlessness if a young lady can’t choose
her own husband without turning loose the dogs of war.
What does Dick Perry think about you, Nate?”</p>

<p>“He’s on my side. Didn’t I tell you I had an interest
in his ranch? We’re friends, Dick and I are. Benner’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
rich, but that doesn’t make any difference with Hattie.
She’s true blue, and all for me no matter what happens.
But I sure hate to have all this trouble come upon her
and her father.”</p>

<p>The scout, still keeping the business end of the revolver
unswervingly upon Red Steve, debated the situation
in his mind.</p>

<p>“How did Benner manage to get hold of you, Nate?”
he inquired.</p>

<p>“I was out looking for strayed or stolen cattle,” said
Dunbar, “when half a dozen of Benner’s men jumped
me. It was in a dry wash, and the whelps rolled down
on me so quick I couldn’t do a thing. It was yesterday
this happened, and I was lugged to this dugout and
left in the hands of Red Steve.”</p>

<p>“As scoundrelly a game as was ever played,” declared
the scout, “and it doesn’t speak very well for the cattlemen
in these parts.”</p>

<p>“These are flush days on this part of the range,” went
on Dunbar; “anything with horns, hoofs and hide comes
pretty near being worth its weight in gold. All the barons
on the Brazos are rich, and Perry would be worth quite
a pile if the rest of the ranchers would only let him and
his stock alone. It ought to be stopped. By thunder,
it’s a disgrace the way Perry is being treated.”</p>

<p>“You’re right,” said the scout, “this hectoring ought
to be stopped. I’ve a notion to bear a hand and help
you and Perry put an end to the lawless situation.”</p>

<p>A scornful laugh broke from Red Steve’s lips.</p>

<p>“You fellers ’u’d play hob puttin’ a kink in this game
o’ the cattle barons,” he taunted. “The’s half a dozen
of ’em an’ two or three hunnerd cowboys. Oh, yes,
ye’ll play hob stoppin’ ’em!”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p>

<p>A look of fierce helplessness crossed Nate Dunbar’s
face.</p>

<p>“If we can’t stop the lawless work,” he cried desperately,
“there are still bushes at the trailside where a
man can lurk and pick off some of the demons who’re
causing this trouble.”</p>

<p>“That’s not the talk for a brave young chap like you
to put up, Dunbar,” said the scout sternly. “We’ll see
what we can do to end this rough situation by more
honorable methods.”</p>

<p>“Who are you?” demanded Dunbar, facing the scout
squarely.</p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill is what I’m usually called,” was the
reply.</p>

<p>The words caused a sensation. Dunbar jumped, and
stared; Red Steve also jumped, but in the direction of
the ladder.</p>

<p>“Catch that man!” called the scout. “I’ve got a horse
outside, and I don’t want him to get away with it.”</p>

<p>Dunbar caught Red Steve and jerked him roughly from
the ladder. The spirit seemed to have been all taken
out of Steve. His greatest desire now, it seemed, was
to keep as great a distance between him and the scout
as he could. Pushing against the earthen shelf on the
farther side of the room, he watched the scout with
weasel-like eyes.</p>

<p>“Where were you going in such a hurry, Red Steve?”
demanded the scout.</p>

<p>“I don’t want no truck with you, that’s all,” answered
the red-haired Texan. “I don’t want nothin’ ter do with
ye, an’ that’s flat.”</p>

<p>“Then you were merely trying to cut loose from my
society?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p>

<p>“I wanted ter git out, an’ I want ter git out now.
Why the blazes didn’t ye say ye was Buffler Bill afore?
If ye had, I’d ’a’ got out a heap quicker. D’you hold
any spite fer me drorin’ the gun on ye?”</p>

<p>“Not a particle, Red Steve,” laughed the scout. “You
were trying to run away from here and strike a bee line
for the Brazos. You were planning to tell the cattle
barons that Buffalo Bill had shown up in this section
and was going to help Nate Dunbar and Dick Perry
regain their rancher’s rights.”</p>

<p>“How&mdash;how’d you know that?”</p>

<p>“I’m a good hand at guessing. I’ve no objection to
your carrying that message, Red Steve, but I’ve a horse
somewhere outside, and I didn’t want you to run off
with him. As soon as Dunbar and I leave the dugout,
you’ll be free to hike for the Brazos. Tell Benner and
the rest of the cattle barons that Buffalo Bill, as usual,
is taking the part of the under dog, that he’s going to
extend a helping hand to Nate Dunbar and the Perrys,
and that he and his pards will stay in this section long
enough to make peace on the Brazos and to shake a foot
at the wedding of Nate Dunbar and Miss Perry. All
this you’re to tell Benner, Steve, and make it plain to
him that it comes from me straight. I didn’t come loping
in here to stir up trouble, but now that I’ve found
it stirred up, I’m going to put a shoulder to the wheel
and settle it.”</p>

<p>The scout turned to Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Have you any property in this hangout, Nate?” he
asked.</p>

<p>“That gun you took away from Red Steve belongs to
me, Buffalo Bill,” was the reply. “That’s about all I
brought with me except my clothes.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span></p>

<p>“What became of your horse?”</p>

<p>“That was left with Red Steve’s in a swale to the
south of the hangout.”</p>

<p>“Then, amigo, here’s your gun, and we’ll be going.”</p>

<p>The scout motioned Dunbar toward the ladder. The
cowboy started up.</p>

<p>“Don’t forget what I told you to tell Benner, Steve,”
cautioned the scout as he followed Dunbar. “If this
outfit of cattle barons gets in my way, we’re liable to
juggle the hatchet somewhat before we bury it.”</p>

<p>As the scout stepped through the slanting door in the
roof, a husky laugh floated upward from Red Steve.</p>

<p>“What do you suppose that means?” asked Buffalo
Bill of Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Why,” was the answer, “you had Steve going, down
there, an’ I reckon he feels good to see the last of you.”</p>

<p>“You’re wide of the mark, Nate. That scoundrel
knows something that he thinks will give our work the
double cross. But,” the scout added grimly, “that’s a
bridge we’ll cross when we get to it.”</p>

<p>Pointing to a jagged break in the roof of the dugout,
he went on:</p>

<p>“That’s where Bear Paw broke through with his hind
hoofs, rolled me out of the saddle and dropped me below.
I hope the horse wasn’t hurt.”</p>

<p>He whistled sharply. The shrill signal was answered
by a loud neigh and a thump of approaching hoofs. Another
moment and the gallant black was rubbing his nose
against the scout’s shoulder.</p>

<p>“I suppose, old sport,” laughed the scout, slapping
Bear Paw’s neck, “that you hadn’t a notion what had
become of me. That’s the queerest adventure we’ve had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>
in some sort of a while, eh? How did you come through
it, boy?”</p>

<p>As well as he could the scout examined the horse. An
exclamation of relief escaped his lips.</p>

<p>“His shins are skinned a little,” he announced to Dunbar,
“but he came through that affair a heap better
than I had dared to hope. Get your horse, Nate,” he
added, vaulting into the saddle, “and we’ll be touching
the high places.”</p>

<p>Dunbar started south and vanished into a shallow
swale. The scout rode after him.</p>

<p>“The horses are here, all right,” called Nate, “but I
can’t locate the riding gear.”</p>

<p>“Wasn’t it taken to the dugout?” returned the scout.</p>

<p>“I didn’t see it in there, but&mdash;Ah,” he broke off abruptly,
“here it is. I just stumbled over it.”</p>

<p>He saddled and bridled in record time, swung a leg
over his bronk and rode to the scout’s side.</p>

<p>“Where now, Buffalo Bill?” he asked.</p>

<p>“Take me to Perry’s ranch, Nate,” said Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>Impulsively Nate Dunbar reached out his hand and
gave the scout’s a grateful grip.</p>

<p>“Let me rise to remark,” observed Nate, with a touch
of sincere feeling, “that you’re a whole man. I’m playing
in big luck to-night. There was about one chance
in a thousand that you’d break a hole in that roof&mdash;but
it’s the one chance that came my way. Dick Perry and
Hattie are about discouraged with all their troubles, but
they’ll take a fresh lease of hope when they learn that
you’re on our side.”</p>

<p>With that, Dunbar pointed the way and set the pace.</p>

<p>“I don’t mind saying, Dunbar,” said the scout, “that
I’ve taken a fancy to you. It’s been quite a while since<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
I got tangled up in a romance, and I’d find a good deal
of fault with myself if I didn’t see this one through
to a happy finish.”</p>

<p>“You’re white,” muttered the cowboy, “plumb white.
I thought you had a lot of pards in your outfit?”</p>

<p>“They’re at Hackamore, waiting for me.”</p>

<p>“How many?”</p>

<p>“Four of them&mdash;but they’re four of the sort that can’t
be picked up any day in the week. There’s Wild Bill
Hickok, of Laramie, a man who doesn’t know what fear
means, and who can lick his weight in wild cats. Then
there’s my old trapper pard, Nick Nomad, who’s a diamond
in the rough, and has gone through more tight
corners with me than I can count. Next there’s the
baron, who talks and fights with a Teutonic accent, but
steps as high, wide and handsome as any of the rest.</p>

<p>“Last, but not least, I’ll mention Little Cayuse, the
Piute boy, who’s a host in himself. These, Dunbar,
comprise the force I can bring against the cattle barons.
The barons will outnumber us, but our work will be to
win by tact rather than by force; to compass our ends
by diplomacy, and by the strong support of the law,
which is at our back.”</p>

<p>“What do you consider the first move in this&mdash;er&mdash;campaign
of tact and diplomacy?” queried Dunbar.</p>

<p>He was none too sanguine, and showed it.</p>

<p>“Inasmuch as Hattie Perry is the indirect cause of
Perry’s troubles, we must eliminate her from the proposition.”</p>

<p>Dunbar turned in his saddle.</p>

<p>“Eliminate her?” he gasped.</p>

<p>The scout laughed.</p>

<p>“Exactly,” he declared. “Within a few days&mdash;or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>
hours, if we can arrange it so&mdash;there will be no Hattie
Perry.”</p>

<p>“I’m over my head,” muttered Dunbar. “How are
you going about it?”</p>

<p>“A sky pilot will be the key to the situation. Just as
soon as possible, my lad, he will make you and Miss
Perry one. The girl will cease to be Miss Perry, and
will become Mrs. Dunbar. Lige Benner will be foiled.
Simple, don’t you think?”</p>

<p>“Well, blazes!” murmured Dunbar, but with a flutter
of happiness in his voice. “That’s sure the correct way
to go at it, and yet I’m blamed if I ever thought of such
a move.”</p>

<p>“I should think it would have occurred to you the first
thing. Where’s the nearest sky pilot?”</p>

<p>“His headquarters are in Henrietta, but he rides circuit
over a good part of this Brazos range. He was due
in Hackamore yesterday.”</p>

<p>“How long does he stay there?”</p>

<p>“Why, long enough to round up the boys and tell ’em
what to do to travel the straight and narrow trail. He’s
a man, that sky pilot is, and a good friend of Perry’s and
mine. His name’s Jordan.”</p>

<p>“Well, as soon as we get to the ranch we’ll lay the
proposition before Perry and Hattie; then we’ll all ride
over to Hackamore, and you and the girl will take the
momentous step. I’ve a notion that that will settle everything
and bring peace and happiness on the Brazos.”</p>

<p>For an hour the scout and the cowboy rode briskly
through the moonlight. At the end of that time they
reached the bank of the Brazos, and drew up at the door
of a comfortable log cabin.</p>

<p>Silence reigned around the ranch house. No glimmer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
of light showed through its small windows, and there
was no sign of life in the vicinity.</p>

<p>“I don’t savvy this layout,” muttered Dunbar forebodingly.</p>

<p>“Why,” returned the scout, “it’s late. Perry and the
rest have gone to bed.”</p>

<p>Dunbar tumbled out of the saddle and threw open the
door. The scout, still sitting on his horse, heard the cowboy
moving around in the cabin and stumbling over
chairs and other pieces of furniture. Presently a glow
of light came through the open door. Looking into the
big room, the scout saw chairs overturned and the whole
interior in disorder.</p>

<p>The cowboy ran to the door.</p>

<p>“Something’s happened here, Buffalo Bill!” he cried
excitedly. “There’s been a fight of some kind in the
house, and Perry and Hattie have disappeared. Fiend
take the scoundrels! Benner and the barons are back of
this!”</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill dismounted hurriedly and ran into the
cabin. He saw at a glance that the place had been the
scene of recent violence and that some rascally work had
been carried out.</p>

<p>“Put up the horses, my lad,” said he calmly to Dunbar,
“and then come in and we’ll do some figuring. Keep
your nerve, Nate. If you go to pieces, you won’t be able
to give me the help I need.”</p>

<p>While the cowboy was taking care of the horses, Buffalo
Bill surveyed the interior of the cabin. The fine
softening touch of a woman’s hand was everywhere
visible. Over a table hung a book rack with a little
treasury of well-worn volumes.</p>

<p>A lamp stood on the table, and on the side of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>
table nearest the lamp a rocking-chair was overturned.
An open book lay on the floor.</p>

<p>The scout picked up the book, and found that it was
a copy of “Paul and Virginia.” He laid the book on the
floor where he had found it.</p>

<p>There were yarn mottoes on the walls, framed in
pine cones: “God Bless Our Home,” “Haste Makes
Waste,” and “The Lord Loveth a Cheerful Giver.”</p>

<p>Something in those trite and homely sentiments
touched the scout’s heart. The books and mottoes bespoke
character&mdash;character that seemed out of place in
that rough country&mdash;character that should not have been
entangled in such a web of treachery and violence as had
been thrown about the Perrys.</p>

<p>The scout opened one of two doors that were in the
rear of the room, and carried the lamp into the kitchen.
Here everything was in apple-pie order. Dishes were
neatly arranged in a crude box cupboard, and the floor
was as clean as a hickory-splint broom could make it.
He tried the kitchen door, and found it locked.</p>

<p>Returning to the living room, he found Nate Dunbar
standing in the middle of it and looking around dejectedly.</p>

<p>“They’ve been run off,” he declared hopelessly; “that’s
what’s happened! If any harm comes to Hattie,” and
here his voice fell husky and murderous, “I’ll camp on
Lige Benner’s trail&mdash;<em>and I’ll get him</em>.”</p>

<p>“Don’t try to take the law into your own hands, Nate,”
said the scout. “We’ll dig up all the information we can
here, and then we’ll lay our plans. Who does most of the
reading in this cabin?”</p>

<p>“Hattie. Those books are all hers.” Dunbar waved
a trembling hand toward the shelf over the table.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span></p>

<p>The scout picked up an overturned chair, and seated
himself.</p>

<p>“Miss Perry was here, sitting in the rocking-chair by
the lamp and reading,” said he. “Some one came here
and took her and her father away by force. It hardly
seems to me as though these cattle barons, lawless though
they are, would have dared to go to such extremes.
They may be back of what has happened, but some of
their hirelings did the work.”</p>

<p>Dunbar reeled against the wall, and caught his head
in his hands.</p>

<p>“Tact and diplomacy!” he bitterly exclaimed. “How
can you use weapons like those against such a pack of
scoundrels? Cold steel is what they need! By Heaven,
it’s only a two hours’ gallop to Benner’s! I’ll go there
and make him answer for this!”</p>

<p>The cowboy jumped from the wall, and started for
the door.</p>

<p>“Dunbar!”</p>

<p>There was a compelling note in the scout’s voice. The
cowboy halted, and turned his haggard face.</p>

<p>“Sit down!” ordered the scout. “If I and my pards
are to help you, I want you to keep a cool head, and not
go off on any fool tangent. You can be of assistance to
me&mdash;but only by showing a different spirit.”</p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill,” cried Dunbar, “if you had seen the
Perrys tramped on and mistreated as I have, you’d be
murder mad just as I am over this last outrage.”</p>

<p>“Two wrongs never made a right, Nate.”</p>

<p>“Right! Who talks of right on the Brazos? These
barons are jumping on right and justice rough shod, and
what they need is a taste of their own medicine.”</p>

<p>“They’ll get it, Nate, but they’ll get it in my way.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>
There’ll be no parlor tactics, and when we hit it will
be straight from the shoulder. But this talk of cold
steel begs the whole question. Sit down and be
sensible.”</p>

<p>Dunbar, with an effort, got the whip hand of himself.</p>

<p>“Isn’t there any one living in the cabin but Perry and
his daughter?” went on the scout.</p>

<p>“No. I’ve been putting up here along with Dick and
Hattie.”</p>

<p>“Where are the cowboys?”</p>

<p>“All gone&mdash;but me. They were scared off by the
barons&mdash;scared off or bought off, I don’t know which.
When I failed to get back yesterday, maybe Dick and
Hattie thought I’d been bought off, too.”</p>

<p>“No, they didn’t. I’ve only known you for a few
hours, Dunbar, but even that short acquaintance has
convinced me that you’ve no yellow streak in your make-up.
Perry and his daughter have known you a good
deal longer than I have, and they’d never think you had
turned traitor to their interests. How many cattle have
you and Perry?”</p>

<p>“Perry came in here with a thousand head, but there’s
no telling how many of our brand we could round up
now. The herd has been rustled right and left.”</p>

<p>The scout was thoughtful for a few moments.</p>

<p>“What sort of a man is Perry?” he asked finally.</p>

<p>“The clear quill and as straight as a die.”</p>

<p>“Fighter?”</p>

<p>“As game a fighter as you can find. If he hadn’t been
he’d have left the Brazos a month ago. But he’s too
honest, too finely strung to handle a gang like the cattle
barons, even if he had a large enough force behind him.
Perry is an educated man, Buffalo Bill.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p>

<p>“So I imagined. He hasn’t made the other cattlemen
think that he’s better than they are, has he?”</p>

<p>“Not on your life! That ain’t Perry’s style. He’d
be neighborly, if they’d let him.”</p>

<p>“I don’t believe,” said the scout, “that Perry was here
when his daughter was taken away. There’d have been
shooting, wouldn’t there?”</p>

<p>“Right off the reel,” answered Dunbar promptly.
“Perry would have gone any length to defend himself.”</p>

<p>“There are no signs to indicate that revolvers were
used. I suppose Perry kept his guns handy?”</p>

<p>“Always&mdash;since the barons turned loose on him.”</p>

<p>“Then here’s the way I figure it: You failed to come
back to the cabin yesterday. Perry and Hattie believed
that you had been trapped by Benner’s men. Perry went
off to look for you. While he was gone, the trouble happened
here. Perry may get back any minute, Dunbar,
and then he can help us do our planning. Are there
any horses in the corral?”</p>

<p>“No.”</p>

<p>The cowboy was moody. He could see the logic of the
scout’s suggestions, but he was not in a temper to be
sanguine over results.</p>

<p>“How far is Benner’s ranch from here?” asked the
scout.</p>

<p>“Twenty miles.” Dunbar showed some interest. “Are
you thinking of going over there?”</p>

<p>“Not yet. We’ll give Perry a chance to get back here
first. How long have you been hooked up with Perry,
Nate?”</p>

<p>“Nearly a year. I came here from the Panhandle
country, and Perry had just bought out the Star-A
steers. He wanted a foreman, and I took hold. Later<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
on, when I saw how the other cattlemen were layin’
for him, I dropped a thousand-dollar stake into the pot.
It was all I had. I reckoned, though, that I’d show
Benner he had two to buck against. He had tried to
hire me away from Perry, and the thousand I put up
here was an answer to that.”</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill was liking the young fellow more and
more. Nevertheless, he was not overlooking the powerful
influence Hattie Perry must have had with Nate
Dunbar.</p>

<p>“You’re all right, Nate,” said the scout. “The situation
on the Brazos has reached a climax, and everything
depends on the way you stack up from this on.”</p>

<p>“But we can’t do what you thought of while we were
riding from Red Steve’s.”</p>

<p>“You mean that about the sky pilot, and eliminating
Miss Perry as a factor in the trouble? That is still the
work we must do, Nate, so it follows that our next
step must be to find Miss Perry.”</p>

<p>“Why should those infernal scoundrels carry her off?”
cried the cowboy.</p>

<p>“That was done, I believe, simply to frighten you and
Perry, and force Perry to agree to Benner’s proposals.”</p>

<p>“Perry never’d agree!”</p>

<p>“At any rate, I’m sure the young lady has suffered
no harm, and that she will be considerately treated. We
must rescue her. With my pards to help, I’m sure we
can accomplish that part of it.”</p>

<p>“But suppose Perry delays getting back? We ought
to be doing something for Hattie right now.”</p>

<p>The scout pointed to the “Haste and Waste” motto
on the wall.</p>

<p>“Keep that prominently before your eyes, Dunbar,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
admonished the scout. “If we get in too much of a
hurry we may spoil everything. If Perry doesn’t come
within an hour or two, I’ll send you to Hackamore after
my pards. They ought to be here by sunup.”</p>

<p>“Then what’s to be done?”</p>

<p>“Why, then we’ll ride to Benner’s ranch.”</p>

<p>“Hattie won’t be there. He wouldn’t take Hattie
there.”</p>

<p>“Of course he wouldn’t, but if he has had anything to
do with spiriting the girl away from this cabin, we’ll find
out about it and get him to tell us where she is.”</p>

<p>Dunbar shook his head doubtfully.</p>

<p>“If you and your pards go to Benner’s ranch, Buffalo
Bill,” said he, “you’ll be right in the midst of the whole
gang. There’s enough of the outfit to smother you and
your pards ten deep.”</p>

<p>The scout smiled.</p>

<p>“I reckon you don’t know much about my pards,”
said he.</p>

<p>At that moment the beat of horse’s hoofs were heard,
swiftly approaching. Both the scout and the cowboy
jumped to their feet.</p>

<p>“Perry!” exclaimed the scout, starting for the door.</p>

<p>As he stood in front of the cabin, the lamplight pouring
through the open door at his back, a horseman drew
to a halt.</p>

<p>“Well, by gorry!” the rider exclaimed, in a flutter of
astonishment. “Have I got the blind staggers? Pard
Cody, is that you?”</p>

<p>The surprise was mutual.</p>

<p>“There’s no mistake, Wild Bill,” answered the scout,
as pleased as he was surprised. “Get down and tell me
what brings you here.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.<br />
<span class="fs70">FLUSH DAYS IN TEXAS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The Texas steer, with the long horns and the brand
bigger than a gridiron, has passed away. With this half-wild
“beef critter” has likewise passed the old-time grizzle-faced
herder with his cowhide boots and appalling
profanity. Grade shorthorns, Herefords, and other
swells in the kingdom of range cattle have taken the
longhorn’s place, and the present-day cattleman is a
keen, shrewd business man who has reduced cattle raising
and feeding to a science.</p>

<p>Perhaps the elimination of the longhorn and the picturesque
soldier of circumstance who looked after him is
not a subject for regret; yet in the early days&mdash;the days
of this chronicle&mdash;the rangy steer of the wide horns was
bringing a flood of wealth into Texas. Those were
really flush days for the cattle barons.</p>

<p>In those boom times, ranchers whose principal asset
was cattle, had more money than they had ever possessed
before&mdash;and more, it is said, than they have ever
had since. Just what caused the boom was a mystery;
nevertheless, the boom was a very real event, and some
of the barons took in more money than they knew how
to spend. When such a thing happens to a free and
easy-going people, foolish extravagance is the result.</p>

<p>This sort of extravagance, therefore, took the cattle
country by the throat, and shook a golden stream out of
its pockets. Now and then a cigar was lighted with a
ten-dollar bill&mdash;whenever a baron wished to be particularly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
spectacular. It may not have proved that the
ranchers had money to burn, yet it proved that they did
burn it nevertheless.</p>

<p>Many of the ranchers burned their money in “sparks,”
otherwise diamonds, paying three or four times what the
stones were worth per karat. There was much rivalry
in the possession of these gems. If a baron’s neighbor
flashed a gem as big as a Mexican bean on his little
finger, then the other baron made haste to get one as big
as a lima bean and display it ostentatiously.</p>

<p>A class of peddlers was brought into being, by this
desire of the barons for jewels, whose like had never
been known before and probably will never be known
again. Hebrews with satchels traveled the cow country,
each satchel containing a king’s ransom in diamonds.
These stones were peddled from ranch to ranch. The
idea of a man toting from one hundred thousand to
two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds
through the range lands, alone and unattended and yet
without molestation, formed rather a strange commentary
on those wild and troublous times. Yet this
was one angle of the situation in the flush days.</p>

<p>When the craze for diamonds had died out, the barons
developed another hobby. This time their barbaric fancy
ran to watches, watch charms, and chains.</p>

<p>Wild Bill, old Nomad and Little Cayuse reached
Hackamore in time to witness an object lesson in the
reckless extravagance of the time and place. They were
in the town many hours before Buffalo Bill had dropped
through the roof of the dugout; in fact, they had
reached Hackamore in ample time to put out their horses
and sit in at dinner in the shack hotel.</p>

<p>The baron was not with them. He had heard of a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
German rancher, living five miles out of Hackamore,
and had separated from his pards to make the rancher’s
acquaintance and gossip for a while in the language of
the fatherland. Whenever the baron met a fellow countryman,
there always followed a talkfest&mdash;and the baron
would go many miles out of his way for a talkfest.</p>

<p>Dinner over, Wild Bill, Nomad, and Cayuse strolled
out into Hackamore’s main street. Their legs were
cramped from much saddle work and needed stretching.
Also, anything in the nature of a town appealed to them
after miles of lonely plains and unoccupied wilderness.</p>

<p>Hackamore was a mighty poor apology for a town,
yet it had a huddle of buildings which formed a nucleus
for people&mdash;and it was buildings and people the pards
were eager to see.</p>

<p>There was a crowd in the street in front of the hotel.</p>

<p>“What’s the trouble?” asked Wild Bill of a lanky individual
who was leaning against a post and picking his
teeth with a sliver.</p>

<p>“Aw, shucks!” answered the lank person; “Lige Benner
an’ Hank Phelps aire cuttin’ capers with their jewelry.
All dumb foolishness, but I allow it kain’t be
helped.”</p>

<p>The long Texan nibbled at a bar of tobacco, and settled
back against the post with a resigned air.</p>

<p>Wild Bill elbowed his way through the crowd and
came upon the two cattlemen.</p>

<p>Hank Phelps wore a high Mexican hat with tinkling
silver ornaments festooned around the brim. His jacket
was short, his trousers flared at the bottoms, and his
waist was begirt with a gaudy sash. Phelps was American,
through and through, but Mexican clothes were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
more spectacular, and for this reason alone he wore
them.</p>

<p>Lige Benner affected black. His black sombrero was
set off with a twisted silver cord; there was a flowing
white tie under the collar of his black silk shirt, and the
bottoms of his black trousers were thrust into the tops
of knee boots of patent leather. There were ornate
silver spurs at the heels of the boots.</p>

<p>When close enough, the Laramie man saw that the
buttons on Phelps’ short jacket were set with diamonds.</p>

<p>“Ugh!” muttered Wild Bill. “I wonder where they
left the rest of their show? They’re got up like heroes
in a blue-fire melodrama.”</p>

<p>“Did you speak?” demanded Benner, whirling on Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>“I did,” answered Wild Bill. “You’re in mourning for
somebody. Tell me who, and we’ll both weep.”</p>

<p>A gleam crept into Benner’s eyes. But he whirled
away without giving further notice to the Laramie man.</p>

<p>“Look at this turnip, Hank,” said Benner, taking a
watch from his pocket and passing it to the other baron
for inspection.</p>

<p>Phelps took the timepiece and turned it over and over
in his hands.</p>

<p>It was big and of an eighteen-karat yellow. There
was a steer’s head engraved on the front, and a prairie
scene on the back. The steer’s eyes were diamonds.
The chain was as large as a steel hawser, and the
dangling charm was massive and encrusted with
“sparks.”</p>

<p>“Um!” mused Phelps. “How much did you pay for
this timepiece, Lige?”</p>

<p>“Five hundred,” was the careless answer.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p>

<p>Phelps handed back the watch and pulled another
from somewhere under his short jacket.</p>

<p>“I got one that’s just as good, an’ it only cost me four
hundred.”</p>

<p>Benner pondered for a moment.</p>

<p>“Say, Hank,” said he, as a bright idea gathered in
his brain. “I’ll bet a hundred I can throw my watch
farther down the street than you can throw yours.”</p>

<p>“Well, great horn-toads!” muttered the Laramie man.
“I wonder how far it is to the nearest asylum for the
feeble-minded.”</p>

<p>“Did you speak?” asked Hank Phelps, whirling on
Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“I did. I was wondering if they throw in a watch
with every suit of greaser clothes they sell in this
town?”</p>

<p>“Buy a suit and find out!”</p>

<p>“Whoosh! With all those diamond buttons? Mañana!”</p>

<p>Phelps, with a disgusted flirt of the shoulders, turned
to Benner.</p>

<p>“Go you,” he said brusquely.</p>

<p>The money was flashed in a minute, another baron
offering himself as stakeholder. The street was cleared
down the middle, a long line of men grouped on either
side.</p>

<p>A dollar was flipped into the air to see which should
throw first. Benner won the toss.</p>

<p>Meanwhile, Wild Bill had been working out a mental
problem. He measured Benner’s height and guessed at
the possible strength of his arm; then he guessed at
the weight of the watch. With these items to work on,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
he found a place down the street where he believed
Benner’s watch would land.</p>

<p>The Laramie man was prompted by curiosity alone.
He wanted to see how much would be left of the expensive
timekeeper when it hit the ground.</p>

<p>Benner drew back his arm. For a second, Wild Bill
doubted whether he would keep his nerve and go on
with his folly. But there was no backing down on the
part of the cattle baron.</p>

<p>The hand came forward and the five-hundred dollar
missile shot through the air, reflecting the sun like a
live coal. It smashed to earth within a yard of where
Wild Bill stood.</p>

<p>“Hooray for the man in black!” roared Wild Bill.
“I had a notion he wouldn’t be fool enough to throw&mdash;but
he was.”</p>

<p>“Hesh, neighbor!” said a Texan, who stood close to
Wild Bill. “Don’t ye go fer ter git Lige Benner down
on ye. He’s a power in these parts, an’ he won’t stand
fer any funnin’.”</p>

<p>“No?” returned the Laramie man. “Well, I didn’t
know they raised such trash in this part of the Lone
Star State.”</p>

<p>At the head of the double line of spectators stood
Hank Phelps, ready to sacrifice his own timepiece.
There was no backing down for him, of course. He
stood to win a hundred&mdash;by smashing a four-hundred-dollar
watch. Profitable business! Anyhow, the crowd
expected Hank Phelps to make good his side of the
bet, and Hank Phelps wasn’t the man to let another
outdo him.</p>

<p>The second watch shimmered along through the air
and dropped into the dust a foot beyond Benner’s.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span></p>

<p>“Phelps has won!” roared the crowd. “The money
belongs ter Phelps!”</p>

<p>The condition of those superb tickers was enough to
make a blacksmith weep. The works had fallen out of
Benner’s watch and rolled on into the dust. Phelps’
timepiece was crushed.</p>

<p>Wild Bill, however, had lost interest in the condition
of the watches. A small square of paper had fallen
from Benner’s watch with the works. The Laramie man
had picked up the paper with the intention of returning
it. There was writing on the small square. One glance
at the writing was enough to make Wild Bill change
his mind about handing the scrap to the owner of the
watch. Instead of doing that, he pushed through the
clamoring crowd in a hurried hunt for old Nomad.</p>

<p>Some people have a habit of carrying important memoranda
inside their watch cases. Properly inscribed on
thin paper, notes may be easily carried under the lid of
a timepiece, the watch thus answering, in a way, for a
secret pocket.</p>

<p>Wild Bill figured that Benner had been using his
five-hundred-dollar watch for this purpose, and that, in
the excitement of his wager with Phelps, he had forgotten
the paper.</p>

<p>The breaking of the watch had released the scrap.
The Laramie man, as we have seen, had picked it up,
glanced at it, changed his mind about handing it over
to Benner, and begun a search for the trapper.</p>

<p>Wild Bill found old Nomad standing in front of the
hotel airing his opinion, in no uncertain language, about
using watches for missiles when stones were so handy.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” rumbled Nomad, holding forth to a little
group that had formed about him, “they ort ter lock<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
up fellers what does things like thet. Only a couple
o’ ijuts would make sich er locoed play, anyways. Sufferin’
hyeners! Ain’t ther any fool killers eround these
hyar parts?”</p>

<p>“Ye’d better stow yer guff,” cautioned a man in the
crowd. “Them fellers aire cattle barons. If some o’
their punchers was ter hear ye, they might turn loose
with their guns. Punchers is touchy, that-a-way.”</p>

<p>“I’m some techy myself, pilgrim, when et comes ter
playin’ baseball with five-hunnerd-dollar tickers.”</p>

<p>At that moment Wild Bill stepped up and caught the
old trapper by the arm.</p>

<p>“Trail along with me,” said the Laramie man. “I’ve
got something important to talk over with you.”</p>

<p>There was a crowd in the hotel office, so the pards
did not go in. Instead of entering the hotel, they went
around behind.</p>

<p>“What’s ter pay, Wild Bill?” queried Nomad. “I
jedge thar’s er screw loose, from ther looks o’ yer
face.”</p>

<p>“You saw those ombrays throw the watches?” returned
Hickok.</p>

<p>“Waugh! I was jest airin’ my opinions erbout thet
fool pufformance when ye blowed up an’ made me break
off. I reckon I could hev worked up er fight with
some o’ them fellers ef ye’d ’a’ let me alone fer a minute
longer.”</p>

<p>“Benner smashed his watch good and plenty, Nick.
The works rolled out of the case, and a scrap of paper
rolled out with the works.”</p>

<p>“Whatever was a scrap o’ paper doin’ in er watch?”</p>

<p>“This scrap had writing on it. More than likely Benner
tucked it away under the watch lid for safe-keeping.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
I picked it up and was going to give it to him;
then I glanced at the paper and changed my mind.”</p>

<p>“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?”</p>

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

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

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

<div class="blockquot">

<p class="noindent">“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.”</p>
</div>

<p>Finishing the reading, Hickok minced the scrap fine
and flung the pieces away.</p>

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

<p>“You got to have a good excuse for every blamed
thing?” asked the Laramie man, with gentle irony. “I
don’t believe Pard Cody will get here from Texico before
some time to-morrow. Do you want to sit around
and cool your heels till he comes, or would you like
a little excitement by way of passing the time?”</p>

<p>“Snarlin’ catermounts, Hickok!” growled Nomad, “ye
know I’m allers ripe an’ ready fer anythin’ with ginger
in et, but we ain’t got much of er holt on the bizness
thet consarns thet scrap o’ paper. Whose watch was
et in?”</p>

<p>“Benner’s&mdash;the ombray in the black clothes.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p>

<p>“Who sent et ter him? Thet’s the p’int.”</p>

<p>“I don’t know who sent it to him, and that isn’t the
point. This Dick Perry is the bank that gets our gilt.
Why was he captured? Why was the capture risky business?
Why is Benner to take Dick Perry away in the
morning?”</p>

<p>Nomad removed his hat and ran his fingers through
his long hair.</p>

<p>“Pass ther ante, Wild Bill,” he replied. “Thar’s a
hull lot erbout thet scrap o’ paper I don’t know, an’ I
reckon thar’s a hull lot you don’t.”</p>

<p>“We can find out a little. Wait here a minute.”</p>

<p>The Laramie man disappeared around the front of
the hotel. When he came back, which was only two or
three minutes later, he was towing the lanky Texan
whom he had seen leaning against the post just before
the cattle barons performed with their watches.</p>

<p>“Whatever d’ye want with me, neighbor?” queried the
Texan.</p>

<p>“You’re acquainted pretty well in this section?” asked
Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Tollable.”</p>

<p>“What’s your label?”</p>

<p>“Sim Pierce. Come from San Antone, ’riginally.
Mebby ye’ve heerd tell o’ the Pierces o’ San Antone?”</p>

<p>“No. My name’s Hickok, and this is my pard, old
Nomad. We belong with Buffalo Bill’s outfit of trouble-chasers.”</p>

<p>“Shucks!” muttered Sim Pierce. “I’ve heerd of all
o’ ye. Tickled plumb through ter make yer acquaintance.”</p>

<p>They shook hands elaborately.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span></p>

<p>“What we want,” said Wild Bill, “is to get a little
information.”</p>

<p>“Waal, let ’er go. If I got the brand ye want, et’s
on tap.”</p>

<p>“Do you know a man called Dick Perry?”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce gave a jump that almost unjointed his
shambling frame.</p>

<p>“Sure I know him,” said he. “But why?”</p>

<p>He squinted his eyes apprehensively at Wild Bill.
From his manner, the Laramie man knew that he had
opened up a pay streak that it would pay to develop.</p>

<p>“I’m just asking for information, that’s all,” said Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>Sim Pierce seemed very much disturbed. After
squinting around him apprehensively, he went on in a
lowered voice.</p>

<p>“Come out flatfooted, neighbor, an’ tell me whether
ye’re inquirin’ as a friend o’ Perry’s er a friend o’ the
cattle baron?”</p>

<p>“Cattle barons? Which cattle barons?”</p>

<p>“Principally Benner an’ Phelps, them fellers that
throwed the watches.”</p>

<p>“Pard,” rumbled Nomad, with an expression of profound
disgust, “don’t fer a minit reckon we’re friends
o’ them locoed rawhides, kase we ain’t. Us fellers hes
got some self-respect. Ye hurt my dignity a hull lot
by askin’ whether we’re friends o’ them fool mavericks.”</p>

<p>“Then, I take it,” pursued Sim Pierce, still with his
air of mystery, “thet ye’re friendly ter Perry? The feller
needs friends, an’ I reckon I’m the only one he’s got
in this town, less’n it is the sky pilot, Jordan, who
breezes in here oncet a month on his gospel circuit. But
I ain’t talkin’ erbout my friendship fer Perry so’st every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
one kin hear. Not me. I got too much regyard fer my
health.”</p>

<p>“What’s the matter with Perry?”</p>

<p>“Nothin’, only the barons aire down on him.”</p>

<p>“Why are they down on him?”</p>

<p>“Kain’t savvy, but they’re makin’ life hard fer Perry,
an’ no mistake. They’re tryin’ ter freeze him out o’ the
grazin’ lands on the Brazos.”</p>

<p>“This Perry is straight goods?”</p>

<p>“Straight as a string.”</p>

<p>“And the cattle barons have got it in for him, and
are trying to kick him out of these parts?”</p>

<p>“That’s the way the land lays.”</p>

<p>“Then I’m his friend right from the drop of the hat!”</p>

<p>“Me, too!” chimed in old Nomad. “Them watch-slingers
hev showed their calibre a-plenty, so fur’s I’m
consarned. I’m fer Perry.”</p>

<p>“Then stand right hyer an’ hold yer bronks a spell,”
whispered Sim Pierce.</p>

<p>He vanished toward the front of the hotel. In less
than five minutes he came back, bringing with him a
slightly built, boyish-looking chap in a long, black coat.</p>

<p>“Gents,” said Sim Pierce, flourishing one of his long
arms, “this here’s the Reverend Ben Jordan. He’s a gospel
sharp, but it ain’t struck in enough so’t it hurts.
He’s one o’ the boys, Ben Jordan is. He’s done more
ter chase the devil off this range than ary other man in
Texas.”</p>

<p>The Reverend Ben Jordan laughed. It was a whole-souled,
hearty laugh that made Nomad and Wild Bill
his friends right from the jump.</p>

<p>“There’s a good deal of the devil still left on the range,
Sim,” said the sky pilot, “in spite of my efforts. These<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
gentlemen are Wild Bill and old Nomad, I believe you
said, pards of Buffalo Bill’s?”</p>

<p>“Kerect,” answered Pierce.</p>

<p>Jordan grabbed Wild Bill’s hand, and then Nomad’s.</p>

<p>“I’m mighty glad to meet up with you,” said the sky
pilot. “I’m an admirer of Buffalo Bill’s&mdash;an unknown
admirer&mdash;and to meet his compadres is a pleasure I shall
long remember. Sim says you gentlemen are also friends
of Dick Perry’s. I’m glad of that, too. Perry, just now,
needs all his friends. If&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>At that moment, Lige Benner and Hank Phelps came
hurrying around the end of the hotel.</p>

<p>“There he is!” cried Benner, pointing to Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Make him give up!” called Phelps.</p>

<p>Old Nomad edged around to Wild Bill’s side, and the
pards presented a solid front. Benner and Phelps slackened
pace. They were not in so much of a hurry as
they had been, but they still had something on their
minds&mdash;something that wasn’t pleasant.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE SKY PILOT TAKES A HAND.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>“Did you say something?” asked Wild Bill, looking
the cattle barons over with a grin which he made as
irritating as possible.</p>

<p>“You were seen to pick up somethin’ in the road,”
said Benner angrily, “somethin’ that came out of my
watch. I want it.”</p>

<p>“Oh, you do. You’ll have to go into details a little
more if you expect me to identify what you’ve lost.
Was there anything but the works that came out of that
watch?”</p>

<p>“You know mighty well there was!” scowled Benner.</p>

<p>“I know mighty well that you’ve got to tell me what
you lost before I can tell you whether or not I know
anything about it.”</p>

<p>“That is very reasonable, Mr. Benner,” put in the sky
pilot. “It is necessary for&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Dry up!” interrupted Phelps roughly. “You ain’t
got a thing to do with this, Jordan, so you keep out.”</p>

<p>“What have you got to do with it, Mr. Phelps?”
queried the sky pilot pleasantly. “I thought it was Mr.
Benner who had lost something.”</p>

<p>“Oh, I’ve got plenty to do with it!” snorted Phelps,
giving his head a flirt that set all the dangling brim
ornaments to clattering. “I sent him what he lost.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill was exceedingly glad to hear this, although
he made no sign, to that effect.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span></p>

<p>“We’ve used our bazoos a-plenty,” growled Benner.
“Are you going to give me that?” he demanded.</p>

<p>“I’ll give you a piece of my mind, in a minute, if you
don’t tell me what you want, and what you think I’ve
got,” said Wild Bill, between his teeth.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” chimed in the old trapper, who had been
keeping silent only by a great effort. “Ef ye git too
rantankerous, I’ll hand ye a fistful of five, with my
compliments. We ain’t thieves, we ain’t. We’re pards o’
Buffler Bill’s, an’ no measly, locoed watch manglers
aire goin’ ter insult us.”</p>

<p>Old Nomad looked so hostile that Benner cast a look
around him as though searching for some of his cowboys.</p>

<p>“What I’m after,” he went on, less truculently, “is a
piece of paper with some very important notes on it. I
carried the paper under the lid of my watch, and I forgot
to remove it when I threw the watch.”</p>

<p>“Tell me what was on the paper,” insisted Wild Bill.
“I picked up something that wasn’t addressed or signed,
and that might have been dropped by any man, woman
or child in Hackamore. You tell me what was on the
paper, Benner&mdash;this paper that Phelps sent to you&mdash;and
if it matches what I read, I’ll tell you where the paper
is.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill had the cattle barons in a corner. Neither
would dare to repeat the contents of that piece of paper.
It was the sort of writing that could not be turned
into public talk without exciting comment.</p>

<p>“I was told you picked up the paper,” said Benner,
with a fierce look at the Laramie man, “an’ you know
well enough that it dropped out o’ my watch. There’s no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
need of talking about what was written in the note&mdash;it
was private, anyway.”</p>

<p>Phelps, meanwhile, had seen the little scraps lying on
the ground. From these he must have inferred what
had happened to Benner’s memoranda. Catching his
companion’s arm, Phelps drew him to one side and
whispered to him. Benner swept a look over the ground
at the minced fragments of the bit of thin pasteboard,
then lifted his eyes to Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“You’ll find, my man,” he cried, “that Lige Benner has
some power up and down the Brazos. This ain’t the
end of this flare-up.”</p>

<p>With that, he whirled around and he and Phelps vanished
in the direction of the street.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” breathed the old trapper regretfully, “another
chance fer a fight gone a-glimmerin’. Ain’t et
possible fer us ter git inter a scrap noways?”</p>

<p>The sky pilot dropped a hand on his arm.</p>

<p>“You’re too gallant a man, Nomad,” said he, “to get
into a fight for the mere love of it. It’s a sign of barbarism
for men to be too free with their fists and their
hardware.”</p>

<p>“I jest dote on barbarism,” carolled Nomad. “I’m
plumb savage, elder, an’ I got ter hev a set-to oncet er
day er git bilious.”</p>

<p>The sky pilot laughed genially and thumped the old
war horse on the back.</p>

<p>“You’re a man after my own heart,” he declared, “and
I can see that; what’s more, you’re about as barbarous
as a chipmunk until your fur is ruffled the wrong way.
I wouldn’t give two cents for a man who hadn’t the sand
to stick up for his rights. Brother, you and I are going<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
to get along. Now, tell me what you’ve found out about
the Perrys.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill and Nomad were taking a big liking to
Jordan. He was vastly different from most circuit-riding
ministers they had met.</p>

<p>“Where’s Sim Pierce?” queried Wild Bill, looking
around for that worthy.</p>

<p>Sim Pierce had mysteriously vanished.</p>

<p>“Oh,” smiled Jordan, “Sim lit out. He’s careful of
his health, you know, and he didn’t want Benner and
Phelps to catch him fraternizing with you. These cattle
barons seem to be a law unto themselves on the Brazos,
and most of the people in these parts try to keep on
the good side of them. But never mind Sim. Tell me
about the Perrys.”</p>

<p>Feeling that here was a man to be trusted to the
limit, Wild Bill told him about the paper that had dropped
from Benner’s watch. A thoughtful frown crept over
the sky pilot’s face as the Laramie man repeated the
contents of the paper.</p>

<p>“The barons have been getting more and more reckless
in their dealings with Perry,” said Jordan; “they
have gone from one lawless act to another until now they
have captured him and taken him away. Phelps admitted
that he had sent that note to Benner; and that
means, my friends, that Perry is being held a prisoner at
Phelps’ ranch.”</p>

<p>“Whoop-ya!” murmured the trapper. “S’posin’ we
ride out ter Phelps’ place an’ lift Perry’s blockade? What
d’ye say? Et’s er noble deed, an’ mebbyso et’ll lead ter
a ruction.”</p>

<p>“Will you be guided by me, my friends?” asked the
sky pilot earnestly. “I am familiar with the situation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
along this part of the Brazos, and I know pretty nearly
everybody in this part of the country. Perhaps, equipped
as I am, I can judge better than you what is best to be
done.”</p>

<p>“Throw et up ter us, elder. Any palaver ye kin hand
out will receive full attention.”</p>

<p>“Thank you. Don’t try to go to Phelps’ ranch this
side of dewfall. Wait till night comes. From now on,
Benner and Phelps will have both of you men watched.
The barons know you got that note, and they can guess
that you read it and then tore it up. If you try to go
to Phelps’ before night, there’ll be trouble, and you’ll get
the worst of it.”</p>

<p>“We’re not dodging trouble so you can notice it,
amigo,” returned Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“I hope, for Dick Perry’s sake, that you will dodge
trouble, and keep your hands clear so that you can help
him. Will you give me a part in the work before you?”</p>

<p>This was embarrassing to the pards&mdash;to have a minister
along with them when the prospects were bright
for rough work.</p>

<p>“I’ll not be a hindrance to you,” continued Jordan,
noting the pards’ hesitation, “but, on the other hand, my
familiarity with the country may prove a help. I have
a marriage ceremony for four o’clock; after that, I’ll
join you at supper at the hotel. Following supper, we’ll
saddle up and ride toward Phelps’ ranch. On the way,
we’ll stop at Perry’s. Perry’s daughter, Hattie, must be
about wild over what’s happened to her father.”</p>

<p>“Is there any one at Perry’s besides the girl?” asked
Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“No one, now, but Nate Dunbar, a cowboy who works
for Perry and has an interest in the cattle. Dunbar may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
know something about Perry which will be a help to us.
We’ll ride to Perry’s first, see Nate Dunbar and Hattie,
then go on to Phelps’ ranch.”</p>

<p>“Parson,” spoke up Nomad, grabbing Jordan’s hand,
“ye’ve shore made er hit with me. This hyar’s ther fust
time on reecord I ever trotted a heat with a sky pilot,
but I’m cottonin’ ter you real strong, an’ I fer one will
be tickled ter hev ye go with us.”</p>

<p>“Nomad’s sentiments are mine, parson,” seconded Wild
Bill. “You go ahead and splice that couple at four
o’clock, then blow in at the hotel and we’ll sit in together
at the chuck table.”</p>

<p>“Thank you for your confidence in me,” said Jordan
quietly. “You’ll find that I’m not a figurehead in the
enterprise, I think. You are brave men, and pards of
one of the bravest and most chivalrous Westerners the
border has ever known. It is a pleasure to be engaged
in such a venture with you. Adios, for the present.”</p>

<p>The slender, boyish figure turned and swiftly vanished.
Old Nomad stood staring after him.</p>

<p>“Hickok,” said he, slowly turning to the Laramie man,
“I’m er Piegan of thet sky pilot ain’t cuttin’ a wider
swath in my regyard than I ever thort one could. He
seems ther clear quill.”</p>

<p>“And so he is, if I know the brand. But I hope our
ride to the Brazos won’t turn out a Sunday-school
picnic.”</p>

<p>“Et won’t be ther parson’s fault ef et does,” chuckled
the trapper. “Did ye mark his eye, Pard Hickok? Et’s
what they calls a fightin’ eye. Ef necessary, I’ll bet a
blue stack thet Jordan kin convart the heathen by an
upper cut an’ a right hook ter ther jaw. Oh, I’m plumb
gone on him.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span></p>

<p>“He’ll do,” returned Hickok briefly, but with conviction.
“We’ve been in town about three hours, Nick, and
we’ve got the cattle barons down on us.”</p>

<p>“What do we care? Thet means excitement&mdash;somethin’
ter fill in ther time till Buffler gits hyar. Ye was
pinin’ fer thet, a spell ago.”</p>

<p>“I’m pining for it now, too. Come on, pard, and let’s
mosey back into the main street.”</p>

<p>“Kerect. Ef any o’ Benner’s ’r Phelps’ punchers makes
er dead set at us prior ter supper, us two’ll turn Hackamore
inside out.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.<br />
<span class="fs70">“COME-ALONGS.”</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The clerk at the Delmonico Hotel, as the shanty
hostelry was called, made a mistake while Wild Bill,
Nomad and Cayuse were at supper with the sky pilot.
A man came in with a small package wrapped in a piece
of newspaper.</p>

<p>“Charlie,” said the man to the clerk, “tuck this here
package away in Lige Benner’s saddlebags.”</p>

<p>Charlie was shaking dice over the board counter with
a cowboy. The clerk was trying to find out whether
he’d give the cowboy a cigar for nothing or make him
pay double for it.</p>

<p>“All right, neighbor,” said the preoccupied Charlie,
turning from the counter with the package in one hand
and the dice box in the other.</p>

<p>There were half a dozen pairs of saddlebags hanging
from nails on the wall. Charlie was the custodian of
those bags, and was supposed to know to whom each
pair belonged.</p>

<p>He dropped the package under a flap of one of the
bags and then turned and went on with his gambling.</p>

<p>Benner, Phelps and one or two more cattlemen came
out of the dining room a few minutes later, closely followed
by Wild Bill, Nomad, Cayuse and the sky pilot.</p>

<p>“Oh, Lige,” called the clerk, “there was a feller in
here, a spell ago, with a package done up in a piece o’
newspaper. He said it was ter go in yore saddlebags,
so I slipped it in.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span></p>

<p>“Much obliged, Charlie,” answered Benner.</p>

<p>It was casual talk, and was overheard casually by the
pards and the parson.</p>

<p>An hour later, when Nomad, Wild Bill, Cayuse and
Jordan were riding at a leisurely clip for the Brazos,
keeping a sharp lookout for hostile cowboys, the Laramie
man reached into his warbag for a pouch of tobacco.
His groping hand encountered something which
he could not remember having placed in the bag.</p>

<p>“Thunder!” he exclaimed, drawing his horse to a halt.</p>

<p>“What’s up, pard?” asked Nomad, as he and the others
likewise halted.</p>

<p>“I don’t know what’s up,” answered Wild Bill. “Lean
over, Nick, and get a firestick to going. Have I got my
own warbags, or somebody else’s?”</p>

<p>The trapper struck a light and held it over the battered
leather receptacles which always traveled with
Hickok whenever he rode.</p>

<p>“They’re yoren, Hickok,” declared Nomad. “Ye
could pick out them bags from a thousand.”</p>

<p>“The bags may be mine, Nick, but I’ll take oath this
don’t belong to me.”</p>

<p>In the glow of the match Wild Bill presented the
package for the others’ inspection.</p>

<p>“Ye didn’t put that in yer warbags, eh?”</p>

<p>“No. I never saw it before. Strike another match
and let’s see what’s inside.”</p>

<p>Examination showed Wild Bill and his companions
two pairs of steel bracelets. Everybody was staring and
wondering.</p>

<p>“Now, how the blazes did those ‘come-alongs’ get into
my gear?” demanded Wild Bill, completely at sea. “I
never owned a pair of manacles in my life, and the only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>
time I ever used any was when I was town marshal, up
at Abilene. Even then I shied at the things. How did
these get into my warbags? Parson, are you a mind
reader?”</p>

<p>The sky pilot laughed.</p>

<p>“I don’t have to be a mind reader to settle that point,
Mr. Hickok,” he answered. “Do you recall a brief conversation
that passed between the clerk at the Delmonico
Hotel and Lige Benner when we came out of the dining
room, right after supper? The clerk called out to Benner
that a man had brought a package wrapped in newspaper,
and that the package had been put in Benner’s
saddlebags. I shouldn’t wonder if the clerk had made
a mistake in the bags. Instead of putting the package
into Benner’s, Wild Bill, he put it into yours.”</p>

<p>“Pard Jordan,” chirped Nomad, “yore head is some
level, an’ no mistake. Ye’ve called the turn. Pard
Hickok has got sheriff’s property as was intended fer
Benner.”</p>

<p>“Right-o!” declared Wild Bill, with a chuckle. “I’ve
got some of Benner’s hardware, all right. The sheriff
must be a friend of his, eh, Jordan?”</p>

<p>“That’s the pity of it, in this section,” the sky pilot
answered. “The law winks at the lawlessness of the cattle
barons, and that’s what makes the situation so hard
for Perry. There is no doubt but that the sheriff sent
those manacles to the hotel for Benner.”</p>

<p>“But whyever was it?” inquired Nomad. “Why ther
blazes should Benner want come-alongs? Is he goin’ ter
put ’em on Perry?”</p>

<p>“It’s likely that he needs them in his lawless work,”
returned Jordan. “Those ugly things are only used on
prisoners, and the only prisoners Benner may have to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
take care of are those at the Perry ranch. I argue
evil things from the fact that there are two sets of
gyves.”</p>

<p>“What’s the argument?” came from Wild Bill, as he
put the handcuffs in his pocket, filled his pipe, lighted it
and made ready to continue the ride.</p>

<p>“Why,” said Jordan, “one pair would be enough for
Perry. The other pair may be for Nate Dunbar, Perry’s
partner. I’m afraid we’re going to find affairs in something
of a tangle at Perry’s ranch. Let’s hurry on.”</p>

<p>For more than two hours they hurried, the sky pilot
sitting his horse with all the skill and ease of a professional
range rider, and bearing the discomforts of the
rapid journey in admirable style.</p>

<p>At the end of two hours the party was in the scant
timber that fringed the Brazos, and had pointed upstream.
Abruptly, the sky pilot drew rein.</p>

<p>“Friends,” said he, “half a mile ahead of us is Perry’s
ranch. We don’t know the situation there, and I am
sorely troubled as to what we shall find. Some of Benner’s
cowboys may be in possession of the place, or
lurking in the vicinity. I would suggest that one of us
ride ahead and reconnoitre; and the one to do this, it
seems to me, is Wild Bill.”</p>

<p>“Just as you say, parson,” answered Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Nomad, Little Cayuse and I will wait here,” went on
Jordan. “If everything is all right at the ranch, and
you want us to come on, fire your revolver three times
into the air. The sound will carry this far, and we’ll
hear it and come. If there is anything wrong, return
to us and we’ll try to decide what is best to be done.
I am exceedingly apprehensive over this matter.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill thought that Jordan was letting his apprehensions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
carry him too far, and that there was no need
for so much caution in approaching the ranch. However,
all the pards were more than willing to please
the sky pilot in such a small matter.</p>

<p>“I’m off, amigos,” announced Wild Bill.</p>

<p>His horse, Beeswax, answered to the touch of the
spurs and bounded away through the timber.</p>

<p>Wild Bill halted when he came close to the ranch
house, and swept his eyes carefully around the vicinity.
He saw nothing to excite his suspicions. He could hear
horses in the corral, and he could see a glow of lamplight
coming from the windows of the cabin.</p>

<p>“The girl and Dunbar are in the house,” muttered the
Laramie man, “and if they’re worried about Perry, the
fact is not evident from this distance. I’ll slash along,
just as though there weren’t any hostile barons on the
Brazos. If any cowboys present themselves&mdash;well, they’ll
make as good targets for me as Beeswax and I will
make for them.”</p>

<p>He laughed softly and spurred onward. The door was
open when he drew up before it, and a flood of lamplight
poured through. A figure stood in the light&mdash;a
figure that brought Wild Bill up rigidly in his saddle.
His astonishment was intense.</p>

<p>“Well, by gorry!” he exclaimed. “Have I got the
blind staggers? Pard Cody, is that you?”</p>

<p>“There’s no mistake, Wild Bill,” came back in the
familiar tones of the king of scouts. “Get down and
tell me what brings you here?”</p>

<p>Wild Bill got down and leaned against his saddle. He
was dazed, and was trying to guess how fate had shuffled
and dealt the cards in this amazing fashion.</p>

<p>“I can’t seem to pull myself together, Pard Cody,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
said Wild Bill. “Did you drop in here to spend the
night on your way from Texico?”</p>

<p>“I dropped into another place before I came here,”
answered the scout; “and, if I hadn’t, I shouldn’t be here
now.”</p>

<p>A cowboy pushed into the light and out through the
door behind the scout.</p>

<p>“Who’s this, Buffalo Bill?” the cowboy asked.</p>

<p>“It’s my pard from Laramie, Wild Bill Hickok,” said
the scout.</p>

<p>“From Hackamore?”</p>

<p>“That’s the last place he hailed from, I reckon.”</p>

<p>“How does he happen to be here?”</p>

<p>“That’s what I’m trying to get him to tell me. First,
though, you fellows strike hands. Hickok, this amigo
is Nate Dunbar. He has an interest in Perry’s cattle,
and he’s all right.”</p>

<p>They shook hands.</p>

<p>“Now,” went on the scout, “give me the right of this,
Pard Hickok. Why are you here?”</p>

<p>“I’m here to see how things stack up at this ranch,”
said Hickok. “Something came my way in Hackamore
that offered a chance for excitement while we were waiting
for you to ride in from Texico.”</p>

<p>“You came alone?”</p>

<p>“Hardly.” Pulling his revolver, the Laramie man
fired three quick shots into the air. “The rest will
hear that,” he explained, “and come a-running. Meanwhile,
as explanations will consume a little time, where’ll
I put the caballo?”</p>

<p>“In the corral,” answered Dunbar. “I’ll take the
bronk.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span></p>

<p>Turning the horse over to the cowboy, Wild Bill
walked into the cabin with the scout.</p>

<p>“This has been a night of surprises,” said Buffalo
Bill, “and not the least of the surprises is this meeting
with you. I’m glad you’re here, though. There’s a
tangle at this ranch, and we’re to unravel it.”</p>

<p>“Buenos!” murmured Wild Bill, taking a chair; “maybe
I can help in the unraveling more than you think.”</p>

<p>A clatter of approaching hoofs sounded. The scout
started forward in his chair.</p>

<p>“Don’t be in a taking, pard,” counseled Wild Bill.
“Nomad, Little Cayuse and the sky pilot are riding up.
I left them back in the timber.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.<br />
<span class="fs70">PARDS IN COUNCIL.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The coming of Jordan was another surprise to the
scout. When he, and Dunbar, and the scout, and Nomad,
and Wild Bill were gathered in the living room of the
ranch house, with Little Cayuse on guard over the live
stock at the corral, a council was held.</p>

<p>Hickok told of the watch-throwing contest in Hackamore,
of the scrap of paper, its message, and how he,
Nomad and Cayuse had happened to ride to Perry’s on
their way to Phelps’ ranch. The “come-alongs” also
came up for discussion.</p>

<p>“These may come handy, pards,” remarked the king
of scouts significantly, looking the handcuffs over and
then dropping them into his own pocket.</p>

<p>“Take this, too,” said Wild Bill, “unless you want to
call in a blacksmith to get them off of whoever you put
them on.”</p>

<p>He passed over a key, which went into the scout’s
pocket along with the manacles.</p>

<p>Then Buffalo Bill told how he had dropped in on Red
Steve and Nate Dunbar at the dugout, and of the ride
to the ranch house.</p>

<p>“There’s no use waiting here any longer for Perry,”
the scout finished. “From the information you bring,
Wild Bill, it seems certain that Perry is in the hands of
the cattle barons, and is being held at Phelps’ place.”</p>

<p>“Ther onnery cattle dealers tried ter make a clean
sweep,” put in Nomad. “They captered Dunbar, Perry
an’ the gal. Through a piece o’ luck thet was some wonderful,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>
ye managed ter help Dunbar. He’s at large, but
the gal an’ her father aire still in the hands o’ ther
enemy.”</p>

<p>“I’m terribly worried about Hattie and Dick,” said
Jordan. “They’re fine people, and I’ve feared for a long
while that something like this would happen. Benner
is a man who believes that might makes right. He’s
all-powerful on the Brazos, backed up as he is by Phelps
and the other cattle barons. He can be as lawless as he
pleases, and what law there is in this country will never
touch him. The situation, gentlemen, is a sad commentary
on our free institutions.”</p>

<p>“I reckon, pards,” observed Wild Bill, “that the girl
is also at Phelps’.”</p>

<p>The scout nodded.</p>

<p>“That it seems to me,” he answered, “is where she
would be taken. Both prisoners, I think, would be kept
in the same place.”</p>

<p>“But,” went on Wild Bill, “these barons realize that
they’re playing a risky game. Phelps understands that,
anyhow, for he said so in that scrap of writing which
Benner had in his watch.”</p>

<p>The scout knotted his forehead over a detail of the
situation which he could not fathom.</p>

<p>“Why,” he queried, “should Phelps write that note and
hand it to Benner? They were together in Hackamore.
Why did Phelps put such stuff on paper when he could
have told it to Benner?”</p>

<p>“It was private business, Buffalo Bill,” suggested the
sky pilot dryly, “so private that the barons did not dare
speak about it in Hackamore.”</p>

<p>“Granted. The explanation is a little far-fetched,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
friend Jordan, but we’ll let it go. But why was Benner
keeping the paper in his watch? One reading would
have been enough for him, it seems to me. After getting
the gist of the paper talk, it would have been safer for
Benner to do with it what Wild Bill did afterwards&mdash;tear
it up.”</p>

<p>“There’s no accounting for what those cattle barons
do,” said the sky pilot, shaking his head. “They have
suddenly become so prosperous that their heads are
turned. ‘The love of gold is the root of all evil,’ my
friends. Much wealth has a deplorable effect on the
majority of us.”</p>

<p>“There’s a little evil, I reckon, parson,” returned the
Laramie man, “that gold hasn’t much to do with. For
instance, there’s no glittering wealth back of the barons’
persecution of the Perrys.”</p>

<p>“It’s the riches of which Benner has suddenly become
possessed,” insisted the sky pilot, “that leads him into
all these excesses. Too much money has turned his
brain. What man, of Benner’s professed standing in
this community, would allow himself to make war on the
Perrys as he has done?”</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar muttered savagely under his breath.</p>

<p>“There’s just one thing to do,” he averred, with a
snap of his jaws and a savage glimmer in his eyes.</p>

<p>“What’s thet?” asked the trapper.</p>

<p>“Lay for Benner!” said Dunbar, through his teeth.
“Hang out in the brush and put a bullet where it will
do the country the most good!”</p>

<p>Jordan leaned over and dropped a gentle hand on the
cowboy’s shoulder.</p>

<p>“My friend,” he murmured, “those words are not from
your heart. I know you too well. You’re not the sort of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
fellow to skulk in the brush like a rattlesnake and strike
at the man who comes along. Why, Nate, even a rattlesnake
gives warning. No, no. Face this manfully, and
in the open. Such injustice cannot thrive. Take my
word for it, it will not succeed.”</p>

<p>“Amigo,” answered Dunbar. “I think a heap of you;
we all do, at this ranch. But hasn’t injustice thrived here
for months? What’s happened to Perry’s cattle? Might
has made right for a long time. I’m getting tired waiting
for a change.”</p>

<p>“It is a long lane that has no turning, Nate,” said the
sky pilot with an encouraging smile, “and I have a feeling
that this lane is close to that point. Providence has
been kind to you and to the Perrys. Can’t you see the
hand of Providence in what happened at Red Steve’s?
Buffalo Bill was brought to your rescue, even as Wild
Bill and old Nomad discovered things in Hackamore
that brought them to the aid of Perry and Hattie.
These,” the sky pilot indicated the scout and his pards
with a gesture, “are stanch friends&mdash;men renowned for
their deeds&mdash;against whom the cattle barons cannot prevail.
Trust the future, man! Give Buffalo Bill and
his friends your full confidence, and then abide by the
result.”</p>

<p>Dunbar was heartened not a little by the sky pilot’s
words.</p>

<p>“I’m willin’ to do anything a man can do,” said he.
“I’m only human, parson, and it grinds me something
terrible to see the Perrys treated as they have been.
There are only four in Buffalo Bill’s party&mdash;six with
you and me&mdash;and you know how many punchers Benner
and Phelps can muster. That’s what makes the thing
look hopeless.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p>

<p>“The race is not always to the swift, Nate, nor the
battle to the strong.”</p>

<p>“Well, parson, I always pin my faith on a horse that
can go, and put my confidence in the outfit that has the
biggest number.”</p>

<p>“Which is wrong, Nate. Intellect counts most in this
world. It’s the thinkers who take victory from mere
numbers and brute force.”</p>

<p>“And that’s over my head, parson. Not but that I
believe in Buffalo Bill&mdash;only I want to be shown that
things will come our way, and I want to be shown
quick.”</p>

<p>“We’ll begin showing you to-morrow,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“How?” asked Dunbar.</p>

<p>“In the early morning I will ride to Phelps’ ranch and
talk with&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Talking won’t do any good.”</p>

<p>“This talking will,” was the calm response.</p>

<p>“’Specially,” grinned the old trapper, “when Buffler
backs up his palaverin’ in his customary way.”</p>

<p>The sky pilot turned on the scout.</p>

<p>“Do you really intend, Buffalo Bill,” he asked, “to
visit Phelps’ ranch alone?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Will it be safe for you to do so?”</p>

<p>A flicker of smiles ran around the faces of the pards.</p>

<p>“I think it will be safe, Brother Jordan,” answered
the scout gravely. “It is not my habit to tangle up with
a situation I don’t think I can handle.”</p>

<p>“But, by now, Red Steve will have carried word to the
cattle barons that you set Dunbar at liberty. Phelps and
Benner will be down on you just as they are on Wild
Bill and Nomad.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p>

<p>“Even at that,” laughed the scout, “I’ll warrant that
they will not be unduly discourteous.”</p>

<p>“Supposing,” interjected Dunbar, “that you don’t get
to Phelps’ ranch until after Benner comes and takes
Perry away?”</p>

<p>“I think I shall get there before them; but, if not,
then I will go to Benner’s.”</p>

<p>“Take the rest of us with you!” begged the sky pilot.</p>

<p>“I’ll take you with me,” said the scout, “but you must
remain at a distance. A show of force, at this stage of
the game, is out of the question. A little tact is what
we need now more than anything else. If we all rode to
Phelps’ place in a crowd there would be war immediately;
but the barons won’t think they have much to fear if
I go there alone.”</p>

<p>“Which is ther same as sayin’,” guffawed Nomad,
“thet Buffler’s plannin’ ter take ther cattle barons off’n
their guard. He kin do it, too.”</p>

<p>The scout got up.</p>

<p>“Now that we have settled what we are to do,” said
he, “we’d better all turn in and get a little sleep. Nick,
you go to the corral and bunk down with Cayuse. The
rest of us will find quarters in the house.”</p>

<p>It was with delightful anticipations for the following
day that old Nomad shuffled off to the corral. To Little
Cayuse he recounted the various phases of the problem
that confronted the pards, and expanded glowingly upon
the warm work that lay ahead.</p>

<p>“Things aire goin’ ter be red-hot on ther Brazos, kid,”
declared Nomad. “How you like um, huh?”</p>

<p>“Like um buenos,” replied the little Piute. “Pa-e-has-ka
heap big chief. Where he go, me trail along. Cattle
barons muy malo; Pa-e-has-ka get um on the run. Ugh!”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.<br />
<span class="fs70">AT THE H-P RANCH.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Early the following morning, Nate Dunbar closed and
locked the door of the Star-A ranch house. The saddle
horses were in front of the cabin, all in fine fettle after
rest and forage.</p>

<p>The scout’s Bear Paw, the Laramie man’s humorously
named Beeswax, the old trapper’s Hide-rack, the Little
Piute’s pinto Navi, Dunbar’s Buckskin, and the circuit-rider’s
roan called George&mdash;these were all in readiness
and champing the bit to get away.</p>

<p>An hour’s ride down the Brazos would bring the party
within sight of the extensive ranch buildings belonging
to the H-P outfit.</p>

<p>At the place where Phelps had located his ranch headquarters,
the Brazos described a wide bend. Bunk house,
chuck shanty, corrals for the horse herds and owner’s
house were all located on the tongue of land half circled
by the river.</p>

<p>From rising ground at a distance of a quarter of a
mile the scout and his party looked down on the H-P
headquarters.</p>

<p>Cowboys were going and coming, and at a hitching-pole
in front of the owner’s cabin a number of tethered
bronchos could be seen.</p>

<p>“Looks ter me,” remarked old Nomad, shading his
eyes with his hand and staring steadily, “as though
Phelps had visitors.”</p>

<p>“He’ll have another visitor, Nick,” laughed the scout,
“before he’s many minutes older.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span></p>

<p>“We’re goin’ ter hang out right hyar in ther scrub an’
watch fer trouble signs,” averred the trapper. “Ef we
savvy thet ther baron is tryin’ ter put ther kybosh on
ye, we’re goin’ ter turn loose an’ ride over ther hull
H-P outfit.”</p>

<p>“Well,” cautioned the scout, “don’t you make any
move until you’re mighty sure I want you.”</p>

<p>“Don’t worry about that, pard,” said Wild Bill reassuringly.</p>

<p>“Perhaps,” spoke up the sky pilot, “I could be of help
if I went with you. I am well known at the H-P ranch,
and a good many of the cowboys are personal friends
of mine.”</p>

<p>“Are they so friendly toward you, friend Jordan,” asked
the scout, “that they would take your part against
Phelps?”</p>

<p>“Why, no. That would be rather too much to expect
of them.”</p>

<p>“Then I don’t believe you could be of much help.
Anyhow, I would rather not give Phelps a chance to
think that I’m trying to hide behind a man of your cloth.
Stay here with the rest, friend Jordan, and I’ll go down
and see what I can find out.”</p>

<p>“Good luck go with you,” murmured the sky pilot.</p>

<p>The scout’s spurs rattled and Bear Paw galloped clear
of the scrub and down the slope leading to the ranch
houses.</p>

<p>A little distance from Phelps’ private quarters the
scout passed a group of cowboys, lounging in the shade
of a tree. There were four in the group, and they were
reclining lazily and smoking and gossiping. Evidently
they were visitors.</p>

<p>There were five saddle horses secured to the hitching-pole,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>
and this left one visitor to be accounted for. Probably,
ran the scout’s thought, the missing visitor was
in the cabin with Phelps.</p>

<p>The loafing cattlemen gave the scout keen attention as
he loped past. Even though his name was unknown, yet
he was a figure to command attention anywhere. The
magnificent black war horse, without a peer for looks,
mettle and speed, backed by the lithe, athletic form that
swayed in perfect unison with the black’s movements,
offered a picture not easily forgotten.</p>

<p>The cowboys sat up and stared. The scout waved a
hand at them in friendly wise, slowed pace at the hitching-pole
and dismounted. Quickly he buckled his reins
about the pole, moved to the open door of the cabin
and, unannounced, stepped inside.</p>

<p>A volley of savage oaths greeted his appearance.
Calmly he leaned against the wall and took the measure
of the situation.</p>

<p>He was in a room, a big room, whose floor was littered
with catamount and wolf skins. The furniture,
although of the pioneer variety, was comfortable and
somewhat pretentious.</p>

<p>There were three men in the room. The one that
commanded most of the scout’s attention was, to use a
colloquial term, “buck-and-gagged;” that is, he was
trussed up in a manner as uncomfortable as it was effective.</p>

<p>He was sitting on the floor, knees hunched up to his
chin and his hands lashed around his knees. Under his
knees and over his arms ran a piece of stick.</p>

<p>This man, it was clear, was a prisoner. The scout
guessed that it was Dick Perry.</p>

<p>Perry, if that was really the man’s name, was middle-aged,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
and well dressed&mdash;considering the clothes worn in
that part of the country.</p>

<p>He wore a blue shirt and his trousers were tucked into
the tops of knee boots. On the floor beside him lay a
broad-brimmed hat. Hope flickered in his eyes as they
rested on the scout&mdash;hope, and a wild appeal.</p>

<p>The other two men in the room were the spectacular
persons already encountered by Wild Bill in the street
of Hackamore&mdash;the baron in black and the baron in haciendado
regalia.</p>

<p>The barons, the scout saw at a glance, had been indulging
rather too freely in liquor. They had exploded
their oaths and leaped from their chairs, but they were
none too steady on their feet.</p>

<p>“What’re you doing here?” demanded the man in the
greaser costume.</p>

<p>“I have just happened in for a little call,” answered
the scout.</p>

<p>“Then happen out again. This ain’t my day for callers.”</p>

<p>“You seem to have a few, nevertheless.”</p>

<p>The scout went over towards the barons and calmly
took a chair.</p>

<p>“Great tornadoes!” cried the man in black. “Who’s
boss here, anyway, Phelps? Have you got the say about
things on your own place?”</p>

<p>Phelps felt around himself uncertainly. He might have
been groping for a revolver, but, if he was, he failed to
get hold of one.</p>

<p>“Go ’way!” ordered Phelps, glaring. “If you haven’t
got any business here, go ’way. Can’t you see it’s my
busy day?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span></p>

<p>“It’s my busy day, too,” returned the scout. “This is
far from being a social call. Your name is Phelps?”</p>

<p>“That’s my name.”</p>

<p>“And yours”&mdash;the scout leveled a glance at the man
in black&mdash;“is Benner?”</p>

<p>“Yes,” answered Benner, “if it means anything to you.
But I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want any stranger
butting in here. Phelps owns this place, and he’s ordered
you out. Make yourself scarce.”</p>

<p>“If you don’t make yourself scarce,” declared Benner,
“I’ll yell for some of my cowboys. They’ll handle you
rough, but if you don’t go on my order you’ll bring it on
yourself.”</p>

<p>The hands of both barons were now searching unsteadily
for firearms. Fearing that one of them might
lay hands on a six-shooter and accidentally work some
havoc with it, the scout took time by the forelock and
developed one of his own weapons.</p>

<p>“I reckon we’d better understand each other right from
the start,” said he. “I came here to talk business, and
I’m not going to leave until the business is settled. The
cowboys outside are not going to interfere with us, and
if one of you men lifts his voice to call for help, there’ll
be fireworks&mdash;and the celebration will be mine, not yours.
Hold out your hands.”</p>

<p>Both barons sputtered wrathfully.</p>

<p>“No man,” fumed Phelps, “can come into my house
and draw a gun on me. By thunder, I won’t have it!”</p>

<p>“I’m here,” said the scout, “and the gun is drawn. I
reckon you’ll have to have it&mdash;or something worse. Hold
out your hands! I’m not in the habit of giving an order
like that twice.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span></p>

<p>There was that in the scout’s eyes and voice that struck
fear to the hearts of the cattle barons.</p>

<p>They held out their hands&mdash;held them out at their
sides, on a level with their shoulders. An idea of a
grimly humorous turn flashed through the scout’s mind.</p>

<p>“Back to back, gentlemen,” said he, fanning the revolver
back and forth so as to command the two impartially.</p>

<p>“Who are you?” demanded Phelps, with an oath.</p>

<p>“I’m a man who’s accustomed to being obeyed. Buffalo
Bill is the name, gentlemen.”</p>

<p>The barons were not so far gone with liquor as not
to feel a thrill at the sound of that name. And there
were a few qualms mixed with the thrills.</p>

<p>“Red Steve was telling me about you!” broke from
Benner. “He got to the ranch before I started for here
and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“He delivered my message, did he?” asked the scout.
“If he did, you’ll understand that this call of mine this
morning is on behalf of the under dog. You heard what
I said?” The scout got up and advanced toward the
barons. “Back to back!”</p>

<p>The two men, their angry eyes on the revolver, placed
themselves in the position required by the scout.</p>

<p>“I’ll go this buck-and-gag game one better,” proceeded
the scout.</p>

<p>Shifting his revolver to his left hand, with his right he
took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. One of the
cuffs he snapped around Phelps’ left wrist, the other
around Benner’s right.</p>

<p>“I won’t stand for this!” cried Phelps; “I’ll be hanged
if I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p>

<p>The muzzle of the scout’s revolver looked Phelps between
the eyes, and his furious protest died on his lips.</p>

<p>“You’ll be hanged quick enough, I reckon,” remarked
the scout, “if the law ever comes into its own on the
Brazos. Just now you’ll stand for whatever I choose
to throw your way.”</p>

<p>“And I’ve got four men right outside there,” muttered
Benner.</p>

<p>“Phelps has more men outside than you have, Benner,”
said the scout, “and they’re not helping him any
more than yours are helping you.”</p>

<p>While he was talking he was snapping the other pair
of handcuffs into place on Phelps’ right wrist and Benner’s
left.</p>

<p>When the work was done, the cattle barons were cunningly
fastened back to back, torturingly helpless. A
coiled riata swung from a peg in the wall. The scout put
up his revolver, took down the rope and made ready for
a short cast of the loop over the heads and shoulders
of the barons.</p>

<p>He opened the noose wide, for he wanted it to clear
the outstretched arms of the captives. The two men
were muttering and writhing, straining at the handcuffs
to each other’s visible discomfort.</p>

<p>The noose left the scout’s hand, hovered over the heads
of the two men and then dropped downward. When the
circle of hemp had reached their knees, the scout jerked
it suddenly taut. A low laugh came from Perry. He,
at least, was enjoying this bit of work.</p>

<p>“Take it easy, gentlemen,” laughed Buffalo Bill;
“we’re going to talk business in a minute.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.<br />
<span class="fs70">A DASH FOR FREEDOM.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Considering the circumstances, Buffalo Bill’s manœuvre
was audacious in the extreme. Overawing the barons
and treating them in such a high-handed manner, right
on their own ground, was a reckless proceeding. It
needed a man of resource and determination like the scout
to carry it through to a success.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill, however, although he had acted on the
spur of the moment, was not blind to the dangers that
surrounded him. He was lightning quick in probing
chances and forecasting probabilities.</p>

<p>There were two things he wanted to do. One was
to snatch Perry out of that camp of enemies; and the
other was to discover what had become of Perry’s
daughter.</p>

<p>Moving quickly to the door, Buffalo Bill looked over
the surroundings of the cabin. The four cowboys were
still smoking and talking under the trees. In the other
direction, cowboys were catching up horses out of the
corral, saddling and riding away to their places on the
range.</p>

<p>No one outside the cabin seemed to know or care what
was happening to the cattle barons.</p>

<p>Mightily relieved, the scout whirled away from the
open door. As he did so, there was a crash that shook
the cabin floor. The two barons, in their struggles to
free their feet of the encircling noose, had toppled over
and fallen.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span></p>

<p>Secured to each other as they were, they were in a
sorry plight. Buffalo Bill hurried to them and adjusted
their arms so that they would be more comfortable.</p>

<p>“Stop your struggling,” said he, “and you’ll be a whole
lot better off.”</p>

<p>“What do you mean by making an attack on me, right
on my own ground?” asked Phelps.</p>

<p>“That’s where we begin to talk business, Phelps,” said
the scout. “The prisoner you have in this room is Dick
Perry?”</p>

<p>“Yes, that’s my name,” spoke up the prisoner.</p>

<p>In some manner Perry had freed himself of his gag
and was able to talk.</p>

<p>Keeping a wary eye on the barons, Buffalo Bill backed
over to Perry and pulled the stick from under his knees.
Perry at once arose to his feet and slipped his hands out
of the coils at his wrists.</p>

<p>“I owe you a debt of gratitude for this,” said he; “a
debt that I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Never mind that now, Perry,” interrupted the scout.
“We’re not out of the woods yet by a long shot. Is
your daughter here, at Phelps’ ranch?”</p>

<p>A wild look crossed Perry’s face.</p>

<p>“My daughter?” he returned. “Good heavens! You
don’t mean to say that she&mdash;that these scoundrels
have&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“You’re in the dark, I see, Perry,” cut in the scout,
“so the chances are that your daughter isn’t here. She
was taken away from the ranch some time last night.”</p>

<p>Perry grabbed up a chair and started toward the two
men on the floor. The scout caught him by the shoulders.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p>

<p>“Careful!” he warned. “A move like that won’t help
us any. Don’t lose heart&mdash;we’ll find the girl.”</p>

<p>The scout went back to the cattle barons.</p>

<p>“Watch the lay of the land outside, Perry,” said the
scout. “If you see any one coming this way, let me
know at once.”</p>

<p>Perry put down the chair and cautiously took up a
position by the open door.</p>

<p>“You’ve got the bulge on us, Buffalo Bill,” said Benner.
“Take these confounded manacles off our hands.”</p>

<p>“They belong to you,” returned the scout, “and I
reckon I’ll let you keep them. Those are the handcuffs
that the clerk of the hotel said he had put in your saddlebags.
The clerk put them in the wrong saddlebags,
that’s all. Why did you want two pairs?”</p>

<p>“That’s our business,” snapped Phelps. “You’re
playing a mighty reckless game, Buffalo Bill, and you’ve
about one chance in a thousand to win out. You may be
able to get away from this ranch, but the Brazos country
isn’t big enough to hide you from the men Benner and
I will put on your trail.”</p>

<p>“I’ll take care of that part of it. You fellows would
have more success in your deviltry if you’d quit passing
notes back and forth and hiding them in your watch
cases.”</p>

<p>Both barons swore.</p>

<p>“Confound it, Phelps,” gurgled Benner, “that was
your fault.”</p>

<p>“Oh, yes,” snorted Phelps, “whenever you make a
misplay it’s my fault! When I gave you that information
I couldn’t talk it, so I had to write.”</p>

<p>“And I wasn’t able to read it then, and so I had to
put it in my watch and read it later. But you could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>
have waited. We’d have had plenty of chance to talk
privately before we left Hackamore. That’s where you
was lame. You didn’t wait.”</p>

<p>“And where was you lame?” taunted Phelps. “Making
that bet to throw watches. Why didn’t you think of
what was in that watch of yours, hey? You&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“That’s enough,” interrupted the scout. “Save your
bickering until Perry and I get away. Benner, what
have you done with Hattie Perry?”</p>

<p>“I don’t know anything about Hattie Perry,” answered
Benner sulkily.</p>

<p>“Yes, you do. You’re talking crooked, when you say
that; I can see it in your face. Where is the girl? If
you know when you’re well off, you’ll tell me, and not
make any bones about it.”</p>

<p>“Who’re you, anyhow?” flashed Benner. “You may
amount to something in your own neck of the woods, but
you don’t cut much of a caper here on the Brazos. This
is our ground, this is! When Perry sees his daughter
next, she’ll be Mrs. Benner.”</p>

<p>Fortunately, Perry didn’t hear Benner’s remark.</p>

<p>“You’ll have another guess coming about that,” said
the scout. “You’re about as contemptible a cur, Lige
Benner, as a man could find in a month’s travel. You
two men have a chance, here and now, to do the right
thing and square yourselves. Tell me where Miss Perry
is, and agree to return all the Star-A cattle you’ve rustled
and leave Perry and Dunbar alone in future, and we’ll
call this account settled. It will be mighty small payment
for you scoundrels to make. Hang out against my
proposition, and I’ll camp down on the Brazos until I’ve
run you men to cover.”</p>

<p>“That’s big talk,” taunted Phelps.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span></p>

<p>“The way I’ve handled you this morning is a sample
of the way I and my pards do things. If you want any
more samples, you’ll find us ready to produce. What
have you to say?”</p>

<p>“Be hanged to you,” snarled Benner. “You’re a long
ways from being out of this yet. You&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill!” called Perry from the door.</p>

<p>As the scout looked, Perry motioned frantically; and
the scout ran to the door, the two cattle barons began
to yell for help.</p>

<p>“That settles it,” muttered the scout; “it’s neck or
nothing with us, Perry. That’s my horse&mdash;the black at
the end of the hitching-pole. You annex the one hitched
alongside. Sharp’s the word!”</p>

<p>Together they sprang through the door. Cowboys
seemed to be coming from every direction, on foot and
on horseback. The four who had been smoking under
the tree were the ones who had caused Perry’s alarm.
They had started toward the house in a body. Whether
they were merely curious, or whether they had heard
something which had aroused their suspicions, the scout
never knew. Be that as it might, when the scout and
Perry leaped through the door, the four men were almost
upon them.</p>

<p>“Stop those fellows!” yelled Benner from inside the
house.</p>

<p>There was small need of any urging on the part of the
cattle barons. Benner’s cowboys, seeing Perry free and
hurrying away with the man who had recently arrived
on the black horse, suspected at once that a rescue had
been effected.</p>

<p>The four cowboys hurled themselves at the scout and
Perry. Benner’s men met with a surprise that literally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>
carried two of them off their feet&mdash;a right-hander from
the scout did the trick for one, and a straight-out blow
by Perry dropped the other.</p>

<p>The remaining two made an attempt to snatch their
guns from their belts. The fugitives, however, took advantage
of the attempt to use their fists again. The last
pair were bowled over, and the scout and Perry jumped
for their horses.</p>

<p>To tear the animals free of the hitching-pole required
only a moment, but every moment was precious. The
gathering minions of the barons were almost in front of
the log house as the escaping men jumped to their saddles.</p>

<p>“Follow me, Perry!” shouted the scout, laying a course
up the slope in the direction of the place where he had
left his friends.</p>

<p>Wild Bill, Nomad, and Dunbar could be seen descending
the slope, their horses at top speed, to cover their
pard’s retreat with Perry.</p>

<p>Revolvers began to crack spitefully and leaden bees
hissed through the air. The excitement of the moment,
and the receding targets, caused every bullet to go wild.</p>

<p>The fusillade was returned from up the slope, and the
mounted cowboys who had taken up the pursuit, drew
wary rein to make out the number and disposition of
the enemies up the “rise.” And while they were hesitating
and making their calculations, Buffalo Bill and
Perry were pounding along and making good in their
dash for freedom.</p>

<p>“Whoop-ya!” <ins class="corr" id="tn76" title="Transcriber’s Note—“roared old Nomand, while the scout” changed to “roared old Nomad, while the scout”.">roared old Nomad, while the scout</ins>
and Perry drew closer up the slope, “le’s tear through ther
tin-horn camp, pards, an’ raise Cain with a big ‘K!’ Le’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>
cut loose an’ show ’em our own partic’ler brand o’ destruction!
Le’s give ’em er taste o’&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Head the other way, quick!” shouted the scout, as he
and Perry came thundering up. “Heels are trumps,
pards, and see how quick you can play ’em.”</p>

<p>Nomad yielded. When the scout ordered a move contrary
to Nomad’s desires, he always yielded.</p>

<p>In a galloping crowd, Dunbar, Wild Bill, Nomad, the
scout and Perry swept over the top of the “rise” and
into the scrub. Here they were joined by Jordan and
Little Cayuse, and they skimmed the earth like a flock
of low-flying birds.</p>

<p>There was no time for talk, no time for anything but
an occasional look behind and a frantic urging of the
horses.</p>

<p>Eight, nine, ten&mdash;a dozen mounted men flickered over
the crest of the slope and settled themselves for what
they evidently thought was to be a long chase.</p>

<p>“Twelve up!” shouted the Laramie man.</p>

<p>“Not so many, oh, not so many!” roared the old trapper.
“We’re six! What’s two ter one? Waugh! Give
ther word, Buffler, an’ we’ll turn on ’em.”</p>

<p>But the scout did not give the word. There might
be no more than twelve in sight, but under the “rise”
were enough cowboys to literally overwhelm the scout’s
small party.</p>

<p>On went the race. Perry and Dunbar led the fugitives
down into the timber, and there, where the scrub
was thickest, there followed an exciting game of hare
and hounds.</p>

<p>Knowing the country well, Perry and Dunbar were
able to take advantage of every friendly swale and shallow
seam in the river bottom. In brushy coverts the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>
fugitives waited for the dozen cowboys to rush past, then
they doubled back, crossed the river, followed up the
opposite bank, recrossed and paused for breath in a
coulee.</p>

<p>“Sufferin’ reptyles!” mourned old Nomad, slapping
Hide-rack’s sweaty neck, “thet’s new bizness fer We, Us
an’ Comp’ny, dodgin’ trouble thet-a-way. I hope I’ll
forgive myself some time fer doin’ et.”</p>

<p>“You’d have had to forgive yourself for not doing it,
Nick,” returned the scout, dismounting to loosen his saddle
cinches, “if we’d taken any other course. How
many cowboys has Phelps got in his outfit, Perry?”</p>

<p>“He can muster thirty men, I guess, without much
trouble,” answered Perry.</p>

<p>“All of that,” seconded Dunbar.</p>

<p>“It is well we took to our heels, friends,” spoke up
the sky pilot. “If any blood had been shed, it would
have been a blot on our consciences.”</p>

<p>“Ef we took on er few blots,” said Nomad, “I
reckon we’d crimp them barons an’ save future trouble
fer Perry.”</p>

<p>Cayuse, thoughtful as ever, had left Navi in the bottom
of the coulee and crept up the bank to watch for
enemies. Lying on the slope, only his head and the
upright eagle plume in his scalplock showed over the
crest.</p>

<p>All had dismounted and loosened cinches in order to
give their panting horses more freedom in using their
lungs.</p>

<p>“Dick,” said the sky pilot, reaching out his hand to
the harassed rancher, “I’m sorry you are having this
trouble, but I always feared it would come to something
like this.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span></p>

<p>“There was nothing I could do to help it, parson,”
answered Perry, “short of leaving the country. I couldn’t
do that, with all I’ve got in the world tied up at the
Star-A.”</p>

<p>“It is my hope, my prayer, that you will be tided over
your difficulties. If that can be accomplished, these good
friends will see to it, I’m sure.”</p>

<p>“I’m obliged to Buffalo Bill and his pards. How they
came to be mixed up in my troubles is more than I know.
I want to know all about it, but first, tell me about Hattie.
How do you know she has been taken away by
Lige Benner? When did it happen?”</p>

<p>“Last night, Dick,” answered Dunbar heavily.</p>

<p>“Where were you yesterday, Nate?”</p>

<p>“Captured by some of Benner’s men while I was out
looking for strays, turned over to Red Steve, then found
and released by Buffalo Bill. That was in the first half
of the night. The scout and I rode to the ranch and
found everything in the living room in disorder&mdash;and
Hattie gone.”</p>

<p>A groan was wrenched from Perry’s lips.</p>

<p>“Has it come to this,” he cried, “that these scoundrels
must make war on women?”</p>

<p>His tortured soul found vent in language that shocked
the minister’s ears.</p>

<p>“Peace, friend,” said Jordan. “You have much to be
thankful for. You are not yourself. Try to be composed.”</p>

<p>“How did you fall into the hands of Phelps?” asked
the scout, more to get the rancher’s mind to running in
another channel than anything else.</p>

<p>“I went looking for Nate,” was the answer, “and some
of Phelps’ men roped me in the timber. The noose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>
dropped before I could avoid it, and I was jerked from
the back of my horse. They took me to the H-P ranch
yesterday noon, and Phelps went to Hackamore to see
Benner, report, and get him to send after me. Benner
rode over this morning with an escort of cowboys. The
plan was to take me to Benner’s ranch, but Phelps and
Benner got to drinking and, before we started, Buffalo
Bill came.”</p>

<p>Perry turned on the scout, his eyes wide with wonder.</p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill,” said he, “if any one had told me that
it was possible for a man to do what you did at Phelps’
this morning I would not have believed it. In all my
life I never saw such a nervy piece of work.”</p>

<p>Old Nomad began to chuckle.</p>

<p>“It won’t be long, amigos,” he remarked, “afore these
hyar cattle barons o’ ther Brazos’ll begin ter git acquainted
with Buffler Bill. None o’ Buffler’s pards stack
up ter his level, but, ef I do say et, I reckon we reach
purty middlin’ high.”</p>

<p>“What did you do, pard?” asked Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“I corrected the mistake which the clerk at the hotel
made last evening,” laughed the scout.</p>

<p>“Meaning which?”</p>

<p>“Why, I gave Benner the handcuffs.”</p>

<p>“With his revolver,” put in Perry, “he forced the two
cattle barons to stand back to back, and then he handcuffed
their wrists together. He finished the work by
putting the noose of a riata around their feet. And that’s
the way we left them!”</p>

<p>“I came away,” added Buffalo Bill, “and forgot to
leave the key to the bracelets, so&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>Old Nomad was a minute or two grasping the situation
the scout had caused in Phelps’ cabin. Just at this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>
point it broke over him, and he leaned against Hide-rack
and bellowed with mirth.</p>

<p>“Say,” he sputtered, “this hyar reminds me some o’
ther way Buffler went inter the Sioux kentry an’ took ole
Lightnin’-thet-strikes right out from ther middle o’ his
band. Waugh! Er-waugh! An’ our pard left them
fellers back ter back, handcuffed ter each other, an’
with their men thicker eround ’em than what fleas is in
ole Siskiyou county! I’d like ter lay off fer a hull day
an’ enjoy thinkin’ erbout thet. I would so!”</p>

<p>“That was just my kind of a play,” commented Wild
Bill regretfully. “Wish I could have been in on it
myself.”</p>

<p>“Let me know, Buffalo Bill,” requested Perry, “how
you knew I was at the H-P ranch? Phelps was trying
to keep that quiet.”</p>

<p>The scout explained in a few words.</p>

<p>“Certainly,” murmured Perry, “I ought to be thankful
that I have friends like you and your pards to lend me a
helping hand at this critical time. Every man on the
Brazos seems to have been against Dunbar and me!”</p>

<p>“Not every man, Dick,” protested Jordan. “Only
Benner and Phelps are really against you. The rest of
the cattlemen are so completely dominated by Benner
and Phelps that they don’t dare take sides with you
openly.”</p>

<p>“We know the stake Benner is playing for,” said Wild
Bill, “but what does Phelps hope to make out of this
rascally work?”</p>

<p>“For one thing,” replied Perry, “Phelps wants the
Star-A range. He tried to buy out the man who sold
to me. Maybe it would have been better if I had gone
elsewhere for a location and let Phelps have the Star-A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>
range. We can never tell about these things until it’s
too late.”</p>

<p>“Then, too,” spoke up Jordan, “Phelps is a bosom
friend of Benner’s. That’s the principal reason, I suppose,
why he’s taking a part in this rascally work. But
prosperity is back of it all&mdash;too much prosperity for
men who do not understand how to make the best use
of their wealth.”</p>

<p>“Isn’t there something we can do for Hattie?” asked
Perry tremulously. “Must we stay cooped up in this
coulee, guarding against an attack from the H-P outfit,
while my girl is in the hands of that scoundrel, Benner?”</p>

<p>“We’re going to do something for Miss Perry, amigo,”
returned the scout, “and we’ll start the ball to rolling
just as soon as we can decide what’s to be done. If
your daughter had been at the H-P ranch, you’d have
discovered it, I think. And I don’t believe Benner would
have her taken to his place. Is there any one else besides
Red Steve on whom Benner could depend for help
in dealing with Miss Perry?”</p>

<p>“There’s Fritz Dinkelmann,” suggested Dunbar. “That
Dutchman and his wife owe Benner money, and while I
think Fritz is as honest as the usual run of men, still,
being in debt head over ears to Benner he might be
forced to&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Dinkelmann, Dinkelmann!” muttered Wild Bill. “Say,
Nick, wasn’t that the Dutchman our Dutch pard went to
see? Wasn’t it Dinkelmann who&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>A call came from Cayuse. As he shouted, he beckoned
those below to come up the slope and see with
their own eyes something he had discovered.</p>

<p>What the pards saw, peering over the crest of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>
coulee bank, sent the hot blood pounding through their
veins.</p>

<p>“It’s the baron&mdash;our Dutch pard!” shouted Wild Bill;
“the fellow we were just talking about, Perry!”</p>

<p>“There’s a woman with him,” faltered Perry; “can it
be&mdash;on my soul, I think it is&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Yes,” breathed Dunbar hoarsely, “it’s Hattie, Dick!
I can see her plain. An’ behind the two are a score or
two of cowboys from Benner’s ranch, and from the H-P
outfit. They outnumber us, but we’ve got to do something!
We can’t stand here like this.”</p>

<p>Dunbar whirled around and rushed stumbling down
the slope toward the horses.</p>

<p>“How Benner and Phelps ever got out of those come-alongs
so quick is more than I know,” muttered the
scout, “but they’re leading those cowboys in the pursuit
of the baron and the girl. Spurs and quirts, pards!
We’re company front with one of the hardest jobs we
ever tackled, but, as Dunbar says, we’ve got to make
a move.”</p>

<p>No second urging was needed. Every one followed
Dunbar down the slope, cinches were swiftly tightened,
and the whole party mounted and rode away to the help
of the baron and the girl.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.<br />
<span class="fs70">DUTCH COURAGE.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>It has been said early in this chronicle, that Chance
made a triple blunder. In one corner of the triangle was
Buffalo Bill, dropping through the roof of Red Steve’s
dugout and effecting the release of Nate Dunbar; in another
corner was Wild Bill, watching a queer contest
of watch throwing and finding a scrap of paper which
ultimately led to the relief of Dick Perry; and in the
third corner was Villum von Schnitzenhauser, lured from
the rest of his pards by the prospect of a talkfest with
Fritz Dinkelmann.</p>

<p>The baron had heard of Fritz Dinkelmann at the
house of a small rancher where he, and Wild Bill, and
old Nomad, and Little Cayuse had halted for an hour on
their journey toward Hackamore. The rancher had
mentioned Dinkelmann in an off-hand way, and the baron
had pressed inquiries.</p>

<p>Dinkelmann had been on the Brazos for ten years.
Everybody in that section knew him, and knew how he
had borrowed and borrowed from Lige Benner, until
Benner had secured every head of the Dutchman’s stock
and a mortgage on his land and the cabin roof that
sheltered himself and his wife. Dinkelmann had been
in the German army, and carried honorable wounds&mdash;mementos
of the Franco-Prussian War.</p>

<p>This mention of Dinkelmann’s army experience was
what stirred the baron most deeply; for the baron himself
had served his time in the kaiser’s ranks, and had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>
won the Order of the Black Eagle for bravery on the
field.</p>

<p>Yes, certainly, the baron would have to see Dinkelmann
and engage in a talkfest. It would be some time
before Buffalo Bill could reach Hackamore from Texico,
and the baron could pass the night at Dinkelmann’s and
get to Hackamore before the scout reached the town.</p>

<p>It was nine o’clock in the evening when the baron,
having lost and found himself at least a dozen times,
first sighted the glow of light in Dinkelmann’s cabin,
rode up to the door and leaned down from his saddle
to knock.</p>

<p>A buxom lady answered his summons, starting back in
trepidation when she found the baron’s mule bulked
across the entrance.</p>

<p>“Iss Misder Dinkelmann in der house, yes?” inquired
the baron.</p>

<p>“Yah,” replied the buxom lady, but not with much
enthusiasm.</p>

<p>“Meppy you peen Frau Dinkelmann, yes, no?”</p>

<p>“Yah.”</p>

<p>“Vell, I peen Deutsch meinseluf, und I rite seferal
miles oudt oof my vay schust for a leedle talk mit
friendts from Chermany.”</p>

<p>“For vy you nod shpeak der Deutsche sprache?” inquired
Frau Dinkelmann skeptically.</p>

<p>“Pecause I dry hardt to make some berfections in
der English.”</p>

<p>The baron, however, in order to prove that he was not
an impostor, rattled away in his native tongue. Herr
Dinkelmann was in the cabin, but he was not feeling
well. He was a good-for-nothing, the herr, and he was
not brave enough to call his soul his own except when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>
he was at his schnapps. Would the baron put up his
mule in the corral behind the house, and come in?</p>

<p>The baron would&mdash;and did.</p>

<p>He found the interior of the house a bare enough place.
There were two chairs and a lounge in the front room,
and a table on which stood the lamp.</p>

<p>Herr Dinkelmann was stretched out on the lounge.
He was a short, fat man and seemed in great distress
over something.</p>

<p>“Ged oop, you lazy lout, und see vat iss come already!”
cried Frau Dinkelmann. “A visidor has come
py us, und you peen so drunk like nodding. Fritz! Ged
oop yourseluf und sit der lounge on, den look vat you
see. A visidor yet.”</p>

<p>Frau Dinkelmann talked English, perhaps out of deference
to the baron, perhaps only because she wanted
to show him that she also was proficient in foreign
tongues.</p>

<p>As she talked to Fritz, she grabbed him and heaved
him bodily into a sitting position.</p>

<p>“Vat a fool I don’d know!” puffed Frau Dinkelmann.
“Macht schnell, Fritz! Lieber Gott, vill you your eyes
oben und see vat iss here?”</p>

<p>A groan escaped Fritz Dinkelmann’s lips. His eyes
opened and he saw the baron’s hand. Grabbing at the
hand, he clung to it with a fervor that almost threw
him off the lounge.</p>

<p>“Safe me!” he blubbered; “safe me or I vill die! Vere
vas it put you der schnapps, Katrina? Liebe Frau, gif
me der pottle some more yet.”</p>

<p>Katrina stood in front of him and stuck up an admonitory
finger.</p>

<p>“Hear me vat I say now und reflect,” she cried. “I gif<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>
you nod der pottle some more yet to-nighdt. Dot’s all
aboudt it. You make oof yourseluf some pigs, some
mules, ven you der schnapps trink so great. It iss nod
dot he loves der trink so,” she explained to the baron,
“aber dot he vants it der Dutch courage vat you call.
He iss troubles in, ve art bot’ troubles in, lieber Gott,
und he takes der schnapps to forget him der troubles.
Vat a nonsense.”</p>

<p>“I haf hat drouples meinseluf, yah, so helup me,” said
the baron, “aber I look dem in der eyes und face dem
oudt. Vat’s der use to trink und make some forgeddings?
Der drouples vas dere alretty, ven ter trink iss
gone. Fritz, mein lieber freund, douple der fist oop und
knock der drouples oudt oof der vay.”</p>

<p>Fritz moaned and tried to slump back on the lounge.</p>

<p>“I don’d got it some nerve to knock me my drouples
oudt mit der fist. Liebe Frau&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>But Katrina had grabbed him and pushed him back
to a sitting posture.</p>

<p>“Iss it to dreat a visidor righdt you act like dot?” she
cried. “I vill handt you vone auf der kopf oof you don’d
make some vakings oop und act mit resbect.”</p>

<p>“Vat iss der name?” asked Fritz, displaying a feeble
interest in the baron.</p>

<p>“Villum, Baron von Schnitzenhauser,” answered the
baron. “Vat iss der madder? Some oof der shildren
sick?”</p>

<p>“Kindern ve haf none,” answered Fritz.</p>

<p>“Haf you some cattles on der range?”</p>

<p>“Cattles ve haf nod, neider kinder. Ach, du lieber,
vat a hardt time I don’d know. I dry to do der righdt
t’ing mit eferypody, und pecause I owe Penner, he makes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>
me do der wrong t’ing, oder he takes from Katrina und
me avay der leedle house vere ve lif.”</p>

<p>“Shut oop such talks!” cried Katrina. “Der Dutch
courage don’d make some helps mit you. I go by der
kitchen now to ged us der paron some subber. Shpeak
mit him, Fritz, vile I peen avay.”</p>

<p>“Liebe Frau,” begged Fritz, stretching out his hands,
“gif us first der schnapps.”</p>

<p>She struck his hands aside.</p>

<p>“Macht ruhig aboudt der schnapps, oder I vill der
pottle preak on der shtones,” she cried angrily.</p>

<p>With that, she lost herself in the rear room.</p>

<p>The baron tried to talk with Fritz, but it was impossible
to get much out of him. Even a mention of the
German army failed to arouse any interest in the distressed
Dutchman. Finally Fritz slumped back on the
lounge and began to snore.</p>

<p>The baron would have been disgusted but for the fact
that some great sorrow was preying upon the unfortunate
Dinkelmann. He craved his schnapps to give him
strength to bear his trials. Frau Dinkelmann, it was
clear, didn’t believe in Dutch courage.</p>

<p>What was all the bother about? the baron asked himself.
If it was the loss of cattle or a mortgage on the
home that grieved and fretted his countryman, the baron
would not have had much sympathy for him. The baron
liked to see a man act in a manly way, face his misfortunes,
and walk over them to peace, plenty, and happiness.</p>

<p>But there was something besides the loss of cattle and
the mortgage on Dinkelmann’s mind.</p>

<p>While Dinkelmann snored, and his wife moved around<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>
in the kitchen, the baron smoked, and tried to guess out
the problem.</p>

<p>He was almost sorry he had not gone on to Hackamore
with Nomad, Wild Bill, and Little Cayuse. Had
he known the trail better, he would have excused himself
and started out without waiting for supper. But he
had lost his way so many times coming to Dinkelmann’s
that he was afraid to attempt the unknown country by
night.</p>

<p>While he sat and mused, he became conscious of a
slight tapping, as of knuckles lightly drumming against
a door. He started forward in his chair, and stared
around. There were only three doors to that room&mdash;one
at the front entrance, one leading into the kitchen, and
another opening off to the right. The tapping came from
the other side of the door on the right.</p>

<p>What did it mean? The baron sat and studied over
the remarkable phenomenon until a shuffling sound
struck on his ears. When that commenced, the knocking
ceased.</p>

<p>Under the baron’s astounded eyes a bit of white cloth
was showing itself beneath the door which had so mysteriously
claimed his attention. Some one, it seemed,
was trying to push the piece of cloth through into the
living room.</p>

<p>Softly the baron arose, crossed to the door, bent down,
and pulled the cloth away.</p>

<p>It was a small handkerchief. Turning it over in his
hand, he saw that there was writing in pencil on one
side of it.</p>

<p>The plot was thickening! The baron, overjoyed to
find a little excitement where he had expected nothing
more than a talkfest, sat down again, spread the handkerchief<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>
out on his knee, and puzzled his brain over the
following:</p>

<div class="blockquot">

<p class="noindent">“<span class="smcap">Stranger</span>: Will you be a friend to a woman in
distress? I am being detained in this room against my
will. I must escape and go back to my home. The
horse that brought me should be in the corral. The window
of the room is boarded up on the outside, but the
boards can be easily removed.”</p>
</div>

<p>Had the writing been in German, the baron would not
have been long in deciphering it, but it was in English
and, in places, almost illegible. However, he managed to
get at the gist of the communication. A flutter of joy
ran through him.</p>

<p>Here was an adventure!</p>

<p>And the baron could not live and be happy unless adventures
were constantly piling in upon him.</p>

<p>From the moment the baron had deciphered the writing
on the handkerchief, and had made up his mind to
act upon the request of the imprisoned lady, he found
nothing monotonous in his surroundings.</p>

<p>When Frau Dinkelmann asked him to come out into
the kitchen and have some supper, he stuffed the handkerchief
into his pocket, and moved with alacrity into
the rear room.</p>

<p>Frau Dinkelmann, sitting on the opposite side of the
table while the baron ate, talked unceasingly in the German
language. The baron, even if he had been so inclined,
could hardly have got a word in edgeways. But
he wasn’t anxious to talk. He listened mechanically, and
ate mechanically. His mind was busy with the imprisoned
lady who had sent him a penciled appeal on her
handkerchief.</p>

<p>“I vonder iss she young?” thought the baron; “und is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>
she goot-looking? Und vill she be gradeful oof I safe
her from der Dinkelmann house?”</p>

<p>So far as the mere adventure went, the baron was not
particular whether the lady was young or good-looking.
But, if she happened to be both, the glamor of romance
might be added to the undertaking.</p>

<p>“You vill shday der house in till morning?” inquired
Frau Dinkelmann, dropping back into her English as the
baron arose from the table.</p>

<p>“Could I talk mit Fritz in der morning?” he asked.
“Vill he feel pedder mit himseluf den?”</p>

<p>“Yah, so. You shday und you can talk mit Fritz all
vat you blease. I make you a bed der floor on.”</p>

<p>“I don’d like to shleep in der house,” demurred the
baron. “I like pedder der oudttoors as a shleeping
blace. I drafel mit fellers vat shleep oudtoors all der
time, und I have got used to it.”</p>

<p>The baron was cunning. He knew that if he was supposed
to be sleeping outdoors he would have a chance
to examine the boarded-up window without arousing
Frau Dinkelmann. He could also find the lady’s horse,
and get both the horse and Toofer, the mule, ready
for the road.</p>

<p>“Dere iss hay py der corral,” said Frau Dinkelmann.</p>

<p>“Den,” said the baron, going into the front room for
his hat, “I vill shmoke, und shleep on der hay. Vat iss
der preakfast time?”</p>

<p>“Sigs o’glock, oder venefer you retty vas for vat ve
haf. Gott sei dank, ve got somet’ing to eat.”</p>

<p>Bidding Frau Dinkelmann good night, the baron left
the house by the kitchen door, rounded the corner of the
building, and crept stealthily to the boarded-up window.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span></p>

<p>Lightly he tapped on the boards. A tapping on the
other side of the barrier answered him.</p>

<p>The baron breathed quick and hard. What would
Nomad and Wild Bill not have given to be mixed up
in such an adventure?</p>

<p>Ach, du lieber, but he was a lucky Dutchman!</p>

<p>After making sure that the lady had heard, and that
she understood he would come to her rescue, the baron
fell to examining the boards that closed up the opening.</p>

<p>They had been stoutly spiked to the side of the house.
In prying them away, it would be necessary to use an
axe, and there would be considerable noise.</p>

<p>The baron would have to wait until Frau Dinkelmann
was fast asleep. Even then there was a chance that she
would be aroused by his attack on the boards, but, if
she was, he would rescue the lady anyway, and in spite
of both the Dinkelmanns. The baron preferred, however,
to rescue the lady quietly, and to get away from the
house with her without making a scene with the muscular
frau.</p>

<p>Leaving the cabin, he went to the woodpile and found
an axe. This he carried to the window, and laid on the
ground beneath it, where it would be conveniently at
hand when the time came to remove the boards.</p>

<p>His next move was to go to the corral and look for
the horse and the lady’s riding gear. He found both,
and was not long in getting the horse and Toofer accoutred
for the flight.</p>

<p>Leading the animals out of the corral, he hitched them
to a post where they would be ready for use at a moment’s
notice; then he stealthily approached the cabin,
and peered through the window of the living room.</p>

<p>He was disappointed.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span></p>

<p>Frau Dinkelmann was wide awake. She had drawn a
chair in front of the door leading into the prison chamber,
and was sitting in it. She was knitting. Across
her ample lap, the ball of yarn dancing around it as it
unrolled, lay an old-fashioned pistol with a bright brass
cap under the hammer.</p>

<p>The baron wondered if Frau Dinkelmann suspected
that he was planning to assist the imprisoned lady. She
was there on guard, that was evident.</p>

<p>Impatiently the baron went back to the corral. Sitting
on a forkful of hay and leaning against the corral fence,
he smoked three pipes very slowly, and again went to the
house and stole a look through the window.</p>

<p>There was the frau, vigilant as ever, her needles flying
and the ball dancing up and down the barrel and stock
of the old pistol.</p>

<p>“Py shinks,” thought the baron, “vat oof she shdays
dere all nighdt?”</p>

<p>The baron wasn’t afraid of the pistol&mdash;not for himself,
but the lady would be endangered if he tried to
take her away in spite of the watchful frau.</p>

<p>No, it would be better to wait until Frau Dinkelmann
was sound asleep.</p>

<p>The baron returned to his place by the corral fence.
Sitting down as before, he leaned back, and tried to beguile
the tedious wait by wondering who the lady was,
why she had been imprisoned in the house, and whether
or not it was she who weighed so heavily on Fritz Dinkelmann’s
mind.</p>

<p>Then, being tired, and growing confused over his
knotty reflections, quite naturally he fell asleep. When
he opened his eyes again, a dingy gray light tinged the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>
sky in the east. For a moment he blinked; then, with a
muttered exclamation, he jumped to his feet.</p>

<p>“Himmelblitzen!” he gasped. “I haf shlept all der
nighdt, und now it iss gedding tay! Dit I tream dot
aboudt der laty vat vants to be resgued?”</p>

<p>His troubled eyes wandered toward the cabin, and then
back to a post by the corral.</p>

<p>No, he had not dreamed about the lady. There,
plainly before his eyes, was the boarded-up window, and
here, hitched to the corral post, stood the weary horse
and the mule.</p>

<p>Softly the baron made his way to the living-room window,
and peered through.</p>

<p>The lamp, burning dimly, cast a sickly light over the
room. In the chair in front of the door still sat the
frau, but her knitting lay in her lap, and her head was
bowed forward in slumber.</p>

<p>Hastily the baron passed to the rear of the house,
picked up the axe, and pried at the boards covering the
window. The first one came away with such a crash
that he felt sure Frau Dinkelmann must have heard the
noise. But, no. There was no sound in the living room
to bolster up his fears.</p>

<p>He went to work at the second board, and got it off
much more quietly than he had the first. It was not
necessary to remove any more. A woman’s face appeared
in the opening he had made, and a slender form
forced itself through the breach and dropped to the
ground at his side.</p>

<p>“Oh, thank you, thank you!” said the woman, catching
one of the baron’s hands in both her own.</p>

<p>The baron’s heart fluttered. She was young and
beautiful&mdash;and he had saved her from the Dinkelmanns!</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p>

<p>“Dot’s all righdt, lady,” said the baron, throwing out
his chest, “making resgues like dose vas my long suit. I
peen a bard oof Puffalo Pill’s, und I learned how to do
dot mit him. You know Puffalo Pill, yes?”</p>

<p>“I have heard of him,” the girl answered.</p>

<p>For the first time the baron noticed that the girl’s face,
though very pretty, was haggard and worn.</p>

<p>“Ach,” he murmured sympathetically, “you haf hat
some hardt times, I bed you! Vat iss your name?”</p>

<p>“Hattie Perry.”</p>

<p>“Vat a pooty name! Haddie Berry! I like dot name.
Vere you vant to go, Miss Berry? Schust shpeak der
vort, und it iss my law.”</p>

<p>“I want to go back to my father’s ranch,” said the
girl, her voice trembling.</p>

<p>“Dot’s vere ve vill go, you bed you. Iss it far avay?”</p>

<p>“About three hours’ ride, if we hurry.”</p>

<p>“Den ve vill hurry fasder as dot und make it in an
hour and a haluf,” laughed the baron. “Meppyso ve hat
pedder ged avay mit ourselufs. Der olt laty insite der
house has a bistol, und I don’d vant her to vake oop mit
herseluf und see us pefore ve ged a gouple oof miles
from here. Aber vait.”</p>

<p>The baron reached into his pocket and pulled out three
twenty-dollar gold pieces. Reaching his hand inside the
window, he laid the gold pieces on the sill back of the
boards.</p>

<p>“Why did you do that?” asked the girl curiously.</p>

<p>“Dot’s somet’ing for der Dinkelmanns,” replied the
baron. “I bed you dey don’t got mooch, und I don’d
pelieve dey are as pad as vat some beobles mighdt t’ink.
Now, den, Miss Berry, off ve go for der ranch vere you
lif ven you are ad home.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span></p>

<p>They hurried to the place where the animals had been
hitched. The baron untied both mounts, he and the girl
got into their saddles, and in a few minutes they were
moving briskly along the timbered bank of the Brazos.</p>

<p>The baron felt like bursting into song. But he wanted
to make a good impression on the girl&mdash;and he knew he
couldn’t sing.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.<br />
<span class="fs70">IN TROUBLED WATERS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The dawn gave way to morning, and the sun rose
while the baron and the girl were pushing on toward the
Star-A ranch. The girl piloted their course, and lost a
good deal of time giving a ranch, whose buildings stood
on a tongue of land half encircled by the river, a wide
berth.</p>

<p>“For vy you do dot?” asked the baron.</p>

<p>He had not, up to that moment, asked the girl any
questions about herself. Fully two hours had passed
since they had left the Dinkelmann cabin, and not half
a dozen words had been exchanged between him and
the girl.</p>

<p>“A man lives there who is an enemy of my father’s,”
the girl answered. “He is a cattle baron, and his name is
Phelps.”</p>

<p>“I peen some parons meinseluf,” said the Dutchman,
“aber I don’d got some cattle. Iss he a pad feller, dis
cattle paron?”</p>

<p>“Yes; fully as unscrupulous as that other cattle baron
whose name is Benner.”</p>

<p>“Vat a lod oof cattle parons, und all pad eggs. Vell,
vell, nefer mindt. Vere vas you ven der Dinkelmanns
gaptured you, Miss Berry?”</p>

<p>“It wasn’t the Dinkelmanns who captured me, but
some of Benner’s cowboys.”</p>

<p>“Ach, aber I vish I hat peen aroundt dot time! Vere
dit it habben?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span></p>

<p>“At the ranch. Nate had gone away early to look for
some stray cattle. He didn’t come back when he said he
would, and father went to hunt him up. Father didn’t
come back either, and I was in the house reading when&mdash;when&mdash;when
Benner’s cowboys came. I fought to get
away from them, but there were two of them, and what
could I do? They took me to Fritz Dinkelmann’s, and
I was told that Benner was coming to see me this morning.
Oh, but I am glad you came to my aid, Mr. von
Schnitzenhauser!”</p>

<p>“So am I glad,” said the baron, “more glad as I can
tell. Vy ditn’t you dry und knock der poards off from
der insite, huh?”</p>

<p>“I did try&mdash;but I had only my hands.”</p>

<p>She lifted her hands to show him how they had been
bruised and scratched.</p>

<p>“Ach, sure,” said the baron, “you couldn’t haf got
oudt oof dot blace mitoudt an axe, same as vat I hat.”</p>

<p>“When I heard you come to the house last night,” the
girl went on, “I made up my mind to see if you would
befriend me. I was lucky in happening to have that bit
of lead pencil in my pocket, and the handkerchief served
very well for something to write on. I waited until I
knew Mrs. Dinkelmann was in the kitchen, and then I
tapped on the door to attract your attention, and began
pushing the handkerchief through. I can’t begin to tell
you how glad I was when I heard you rap on the boards
at the window, but you were a long time getting me out.”</p>

<p>“Id vasn’t safe to dry it sooner,” explained the baron,
keeping quiet about the way he went to sleep; “der olt
laty vas on guard mit der bistol. Ach, vat a big bistol
id vas! Und I bed you id shoots like anyding.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span></p>

<p>“Well,” sighed the girl, “I am safely away from the
house, and I shall soon be at home now.”</p>

<p>“You bed someding for nodding aboudt dot. Aber tell
me vonce: Iss dot Dinkelmann a pad feller?”</p>

<p>“No, I don’t think he is, baron. He owes Benner
money, though, and Benner forces Dinkelmann to do
things that are not right. Dinkelmann is more to be
pitied than condemned. He&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The girl broke off suddenly, and a startled look
crossed her face. Halting her horse, she bent her head
in a listening attitude.</p>

<p>“Vat id iss?” queried the baron.</p>

<p>“Can’t you hear it?” whispered the girl, a catch in her
voice. “Shooting!”</p>

<p>Yes, the baron heard the reports. They came from
the direction of the Brazos, and he and the girl were
traveling toward the stream.</p>

<p>“Let’s not go any farther this way,” cried the girl.</p>

<p>“Who you t’ink iss making dot noise?” asked the
baron.</p>

<p>“I don’t know,” she answered tremblingly, “but it
must be some of Phelps’ men or some of Benner’s.”</p>

<p>“It dakes two tifferent kinds oof men for dot pitzness,
Miss Berry. Vone kindt does der shooding, und der
odder kindt iss shod ad. Vich is vich?”</p>

<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” returned Hattie, “but I mustn’t
fall into the hands of those cowboys again! I would
rather die than have that happen.”</p>

<p>“Id von’t habben,” said the baron valiantly. “Schust
make your trusting py me. I vill safe you, Miss Berry,
yah, so helup me!”</p>

<p>For nearly an hour longer they continued to ride
across the open plain. Hattie would not consent to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>
turn in the direction of the river, so they took a course
that paralleled the stream.</p>

<p>They had a rough awakening from their fancied security.
Shouts were suddenly heard behind. They
looked around to see a large party of horsemen bearing
down on them at full gallop.</p>

<p>The girl suddenly showed a spirit that aroused the
baron’s admiration. Now, when her fortunes were at
the lowest ebb, all her fears seemed to drop from her.
Her face became set and resolute, her eyes flashed, and
she goaded her horse to the best speed.</p>

<p>The baron’s mule, although a scrawny-looking brute,
had both speed and bottom. Horse and mule, responding
to the urging of their riders, flung onward neck and
neck.</p>

<p>“How many are there in that party, baron?” asked
the girl.</p>

<p>“More as I like to see,” said the baron. “I should say
dere iss t’irty or fordy. Dere iss a greaser und a feller
in plack clothes at der head oof der gang. Who vas dose
din horns?”</p>

<p>“The man in the Mexican clothes is Phelps,” replied
the girl, “and the other man is&mdash;Benner!” The last word
came with bitter emphasis. “If they capture us, baron,
I wish you would shoot that man in black.”</p>

<p>“Anyt’ing to oblige a laty,” returned the baron
promptly, “aber I pedder do dot pefore ve ged gaptured,
nicht wahr? Meppyso I don’d ged no chance afder dot,
or&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The baron, at that moment, received the start of his
life. He gulped on his words, and nearly dropped from
his saddle.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span></p>

<p>“Look vonce!” he gasped. “See who iss dot, Miss
Berry!”</p>

<p>The baron pointed across the level to a spot where one
horseman after another was swinging over the crest of
a coulee&mdash;appearing as if by magic out of the earth, and
pointing straight for the baron and the girl.</p>

<p>“Vone iss&mdash;meppy I vas treaming&mdash;vone iss Puffalo
Pill,” mumbled the baron; “und anodder iss Vild Pill,
und dere iss olt Nomat, und Leedle Cayuse, und some
odder fellers vat I don’d know.”</p>

<p>“The other two,” cried the girl joyfully, “are my
father and Nate.”</p>

<p>“From vere dit dose fellers come?”</p>

<p>“I don’t know, baron, but&mdash;but it is a blessing for us.
And there’s the sky pilot,” went on the girl, still feasting
her eyes on the approaching horsemen.</p>

<p>“Dot gifs us enough men to make a pooty fighdt, aber
dose odder fellers haf seferal times as many as vat ve
got.”</p>

<p>The scout, and those from the coulee, were not long
in coming to the side of the baron and the girl. There
were many things the baron and the girl wanted to
know from the scout and those with him, and many
things Buffalo Bill and his companions were eager to
hear from the Dutchman and Hattie, but the course of
events offered no opportunity for talk.</p>

<p>“They’re gaining on us, pard!” shouted Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“I reckon nothin’ kin stave off a fight now,” yelled
old Nomad.</p>

<p>“No bloodshed, I beg of you!” implored the sky pilot.
“Let me try my hand as peacemaker, friends! My profession
earns me that right.”</p>

<p>Suddenly an idea flashed through the scout’s mind.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>
Forcing his horse alongside the sky pilot’s roan, he
leaned from the saddle to shout:</p>

<p>“You can act as peacemaker, parson, but it must be in
my way!”</p>

<p>“Any way, Buffalo Bill,” cried the sky pilot, “just so it
really brings peace without the spilling of blood.”</p>

<p>“Dunbar,” roared the scout, “ride alongside Miss
Perry.”</p>

<p>The other horsemen shifted their positions so that
this manœuvre could be accomplished.</p>

<p>“You, Jordan,” went on the scout, “ride up behind
Miss Perry and Dunbar. Get as close to them as
you can.”</p>

<p>Every one in that party was a trained horseman. The
reins were handled in masterly fashion, and the racing
steeds weaved slowly into positions as ordered by the
king of scouts.</p>

<p>“The rest of you,” thundered Buffalo Bill, “spread out
so that Lige Benner and Hank Phelps can see what Miss
Perry, Dunbar and the parson are doing.”</p>

<p>No one, as yet, had any idea what Buffalo Bill had at
the back of his head.</p>

<p>“What’s ther game, Buffler?” demanded Nomad,
swerving Hiderack toward the side.</p>

<p>“The ombrays behind are getting ready to use their
guns!” warned Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Never mind their guns&mdash;yet,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>“What am I to do?” called the sky pilot.</p>

<p>The scout, pointing to Dunbar and Hattie with his
quirt as Bear Paw slashed along, yelled at the top of his
voice:</p>

<p>“<em>Marry them!</em>”</p>

<p>For an instant a dead silence fell over the group of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>
racing fugitives; then, as the wonderful timeliness of
the scout’s plan grew clear in the minds of the rest
of the party, a cheer broke from the pards.</p>

<p>“Well thought of!” cried the sky pilot.</p>

<p>The book he had used, on the afternoon of the preceding
day in Hackamore, came from his pocket; then, with
the horses at break-neck pace, and Benner and Phelps
close enough to see and understand what was going on,
the sky pilot united Nate Dunbar and Hattie Perry in
the holy bonds of wedlock.</p>

<p>There have been weddings in balloons, in the Mammoth
Cave, on mountain heights and in the depths of
mines, but where and when had a young couple ever
joined hands for a journey through life as Nate and
Hattie joined hands now?</p>

<p>With the final words, “I pronounce you man and wife,”
Buffalo Bill ordered a halt.</p>

<p>“A hollow square, pards,” he cried, “with Mrs. Dunbar
in the centre! We will face these cattle barons now and
see if Lige Benner will listen to reason.”</p>

<p>Swiftly the horses were reined to a panting halt, and
as swiftly the scout and his pards, Dunbar, Perry and
Jordan took their places in a circle&mdash;all facing outward,
the girl in the centre and each man with his weapons
in hand&mdash;each man with the exception of the sky pilot.</p>

<p>Thus they waited for Benner and Phelps and their
cowboys to reach them.</p>

<p>The approaching horsemen came furiously. There
were fully twoscore. With skilled hands they manœuvred
their horses into a “surround,” and the little circle
formed by the scout and his friends formed a living and
determined barrier between Hattie Dunbar and the
barons.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span></p>

<p>Benner brought his horse nose to nose with Bear Paw.</p>

<p>“You,” yelped Benner in wild fury, shaking his fist at
the scout, “are the cause of all this! You and your infernal
pards!”</p>

<p>“Look out, you whelp!” cried Wild Bill, “or that black
you’re wearing will be for yourself.”</p>

<p>“Quiet, Hickok!” cried the scout; “I’ll do my own
talking. Lige Benner,” he went on, to the cattleman,
“you have kept this range stirred up quite long enough.
You have done about as you pleased, regardless of the
law. There is nothing further, now, to keep you at
loggerheads with the Perrys. Miss Perry has just become
Mrs. Dunbar!”</p>

<p>“Be hanged to you!” yelped Benner. “The sky pilot
has made her Mrs. Dunbar, but any man with a gun
can make her a widow.”</p>

<p>At that, both Dunbar and Perry nearly precipitated
hostilities by making a start at Benner. The cowboys
half drew their guns. A sharp word from the scout,
however, backed by a shrill command from Hattie, caused
Perry and Dunbar to resume their places in the cordon.</p>

<p>“Let me speak,” said the sky pilot, lifting his hand.
“Men, men,” he begged, “think of what you have been
doing! There are many of you cowboys to whom I have
preached; you who have heard me before, listen to me
now. Boys, who is Lige Benner that you should cast
away your manhood and sink yourselves to his level in
carrying out his wicked and lawless schemes? You
know what is right! You know what is fair play! Has
Dick Perry received just treatment? Has he been dealt
with on the square? Answer me that! I have friends
among you; to those friends I would say, is your job<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>
with Benner worth the price he compels you to pay for
it? Is&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Another word out of you,” howled Benner, revolver
in his hand, “and, parson though you are, I’ll shoot you
out of your saddle. I’ll not sit here and let you try to
turn my men against me!”</p>

<p>“And neither will you shoot me, Lige Benner,” answered
the sky pilot, folding his arms, “for saying what
you know to be the truth. You are a coward! Any
man who would act as you have acted, is a coward.”</p>

<p>Benner made movements with his revolver hand which
the scout did not like.</p>

<p>“Put up that gun, Benner!” said the scout.</p>

<p>“I’m my own boss,” roared Benner, “and I’ll not put
it up till I get ready. I’d as soon send a bullet through
you as through the meddling sky pilot.”</p>

<p>The scout spurred forward, straight toward Benner.
For an instant it seemed as though the cattle baron
would shoot, but he caught the scout’s eye and his hand
grew paralyzed.</p>

<p>The scout, drawing rein at Benner’s saddle stirrup,
twisted the revolver out of his hand and flung it to one
of Benner’s cowboys.</p>

<p>“Keep that for him,” said he. “Benner may be a big
man on the Brazos, but he’s not big enough to buck
the United States Government. Now listen, every one
of you men. I’ve something to say that’s of vital importance
to all of you.</p>

<p>“The lawless doings on the Brazos have been heard of
far beyond the confines of Texas. It was to investigate
them that I came here. Chance, luck, what you will,
threw me right into the thick of plot and counterplot
before I had reached the town of Hackamore.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p>

<p>“Do you, Benner, or you, Phelps, want a company of
regulars marching down the Brazos? Do you want your
ranch buildings burned, your cattle scattered? Do you
want to be run to cover and made to answer for your
criminal deeds? If you do, make just one more move in
this campaign of lawlessness. You seem to have all the
legal machinery of this county under your thumbs, but I
reckon you understand that fighting the United States
Government is a different proposition.</p>

<p>“What do you fellows want, peace or war? I am here
to give you either. All you have to do is to make a
choice.</p>

<p>“If you’re for peace, there are conditions. Perry must
be left alone. Any further persecution of him will be a
signal for that company of regulars. The Star-A cattle
that have been rustled and driven off must be returned.
Those are the terms for peace.</p>

<p>“If you don’t want peace, then I give you my word
that you, Benner, and you, Phelps, will see the inside
of a federal prison, and that all your wealth won’t keep
you out. That’s about all I’ve got to say. Think it over.
I and my pards are going to the Star-A ranch with
Perry, and Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar and the sky pilot.
Try to interfere with us at your own peril.”</p>

<p>The scout, with a final look straight into Benner’s eyes,
rode away.</p>

<p>“Break away, there on the north!” Buffalo Bill cried
to the cowboys who fenced in that part of the circle.</p>

<p>The cowboys cleared the way in a hurry.</p>

<p>“Move on, friends!” cried the scout. “Take your
time, there’s nothing to fear.”</p>

<p>Perry and the sky pilot, side by side, led the way out
of the circle of cattlemen. Behind them rode Mr. and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>
Mrs. Dunbar. Then came the baron and Cayuse, Wild
Bill and Nomad, and, at the end of the procession, Buffalo
Bill.</p>

<p>“Gentlemen,” laughed the scout, “I bid you good day.
Go home and do a little reflecting, all of you. You have
plenty to think about, I take it.”</p>

<p>Benner snarled and showed his teeth like an angry
catamount. But the fight had all gone out of Phelps.
He was very much depressed.</p>

<p>Slowly the scout’s party rode off across the plain
in the direction of the Brazos. For a long time the
cattle barons and their cowboys kept their horses at a
standstill, gazing after the scout. The only man in the
vanishing party who loomed ominous in their eyes was
Buffalo Bill. That day, if never before, the prince of
plainsmen had made his power felt.</p>

<p>He, an agent of the government! Sent there to investigate
the lawlessness on the Brazos! And neither
Benner nor Phelps had ever dreamed of such a thing.
They had showed their hands, hiding nothing, daring
the scout and defying him. And now they knew that
he had been sent there to take the measure of their
culpability.</p>

<p>“I reckon I’ve had enough of this Perry business,”
said Phelps. “You got me into it, Benner, confound
you! And what have you gained? Why, you’ve even
lost the girl.”</p>

<p>“I’m not done yet,” scowled Benner.</p>

<p>“You take my advice and throw up your hands.”</p>

<p>“Not till I’m even with Perry and Buffalo Bill,” was
the snarling response.</p>

<p>“Count me out of your schemes, then, from now on.
I tell you I’ve had enough.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span></p>

<p>“Be hanged to you for a coward!” cried Benner.
“Come on, you boys that go with me.”</p>

<p>The Benner forces separated from the Phelps outfit,
each detachment of cowboys going their different ways.</p>

<p>“That fool’s going to get himself into more trouble,
Mac,” remarked Phelps to McDermott, one of his foremen.</p>

<p>“That’s nothing to you, Hank,” replied the foreman.</p>

<p>“Nothing to me, no. I’ve come out of this business
a heap better than I deserve. And I reckon I know how
to let well enough alone.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE MAN WITH A WARNING.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Nothing could have been more peaceful, that bright,
sunny morning, than the surroundings of the Star-A
ranch.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill sat out under the trees, a
dozen yards from the ranch-house door. They were
smoking their pipes and contemplating, with much satisfaction,
the happy and peaceful scene before them.</p>

<p>“By gorry, pard,” said the Laramie man, “just hear the
girl in that old log shack tune up that pretty bazoo of
hers. Every once in a while she breaks into song. Joyful?
Well, I reckon!”</p>

<p>“Contrast this scene with another of two days ago,”
returned Buffalo Bill. “The cattle barons, headed by
Lige Benner and Hank Phelps, were doing their best to
run Perry out of the Brazos country. Dunbar had been
treacherously waylaid and was being held a captive;
Perry had been made a prisoner and was in ropes at
the H-P ranch; and the girl had been spirited away by
Lige Benner, who hoped to break her will and make her
agree to become his wife. Then we came, Hickok&mdash;you,
and I, and the rest of our pards&mdash;and shook up
the whole bag of tricks. Dunbar and Perry were released,
and the marriage knot was tied by the sky pilot,
while the lot of us were racing away from Benner,
Phelps and forty of their cowboys. What we did was
certainly worth while.”</p>

<p>“I’ve never helped to do anything, pard,” returned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>
Wild Bill, “that I look back on with so much satisfaction.”</p>

<p>“Nor I. We have cause to congratulate ourselves.”</p>

<p>At that moment Nate Dunbar rode up to the cabin
door on his favorite riding horse. He was prepared
for a journey of some length, it seemed.</p>

<p>Dropping down from the saddle, he turned to throw
his arms about his wife, who had hurried through the
door to bid him good-by.</p>

<p>The pards turned their heads. When they looked up
again, Nate Dunbar’s horse was in front of them, and
the fine-looking young cowboy, his face wreathed in
smiles, was on the ground and reaching out his hand.</p>

<p>“I’m off for town, amigos,” said he, “and I may be
gone for two days. There are supplies to be bought,
cowboys to be hired, and plenty of other business to be
looked after. Dick thinks I’m the one to go. It was
hard for Hattie to agree, but she always comes to time
when she understands a thing is for the best.”</p>

<p>As the scout got up and wrung his hand, Dunbar bent
forward to whisper:</p>

<p>“And there’s the wedding present for Hattie, you
know. I didn’t have time to attend to that yesterday,
when we were spliced on horseback, at twenty miles an
hour! But now,” and he withdrew his hand to slap a
jingling pocket, “I’ve both the time and the money, and
Hattie’s going to have a ring with a hundred-dollar
‘spark’ in it. Oh, I’m sure one happy man, pards, and
we all know we have Buffalo Bill and his friends to
thank for it!”</p>

<p>“It has been pleasure enough for me and my pards to
get you out of your tangle here, Nate,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“Which is no dream at all, Dunbar,” laughed Wild<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>
Bill. “When Pard Cody puts up a talk like that, he reflects
the feelings of all his pards. May your shadow
never grow less, amigo mio, and may you never say a
word that clouds the bright face of the girl in yonder
cabin. She’s the biggest prize that will ever come to
you in this life.”</p>

<p>“Truer words were never spoken!” declared Dunbar,
flashing an affectionate glance at the cabin. “I’m hoping,
Buffalo Bill, that you and your pards will stay here
till I get back. I feel positive all our troubles are behind
us, but my mind will be easier about the Star-A ranch
if I know that you are here until I get back with an
outfit of cowboys.”</p>

<p>“Don’t worry, Nate,” said the scout reassuringly.
“We’ll have to stay. The baron, old Nomad and Little
Cayuse have gone to Dinkelmann’s ranch for a day or
two, so Hickok and I will have to stay here till they
come back.”</p>

<p>“Gracias!” Deep feeling throbbed in Nate Dunbar’s
voice as he added: “No man ever had better friends
than Buffalo Bill and pards, and neither Hattie, nor
Dick, nor I will ever forget what we owe you. I’d crawl
the length of the Lone Star State to do any of you a
good turn. Adios!”</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar jumped for his saddle, his spurs rattled,
and he vanished along the trail through the timber, laying
a course for Hackamore.</p>

<p>“That lad’s the clear quill, Pard Cody,” declared
Hickok, gazing after Dunbar and wagging his head.
“He’ll go far and do well, mark what I say. But he
seems to think that he’s not through with the hostile
cattle barons.”</p>

<p>“I don’t think he has any cause to be worried,” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>
the scout. “Hank Phelps, if what I hear is true, has
thrown up his hands and will have nothing more to do
with the lawless element on the Brazos. Lige Benner is
the only source of possible trouble; but, with public opinion
setting in strong for the Perrys, I don’t believe Benner
will dare let his animosity show itself. He&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout halted abruptly. Through the timber behind
him and the Laramie man came a rider at speed, his
horse lathered and blowing. The man in the saddle was
long and lean; his thin, hatchet-like face was full of excitement.
As he threw himself from his horse, the animal
staggered drunkenly with feet wide apart.</p>

<p>“Suffering horn toads!” exclaimed the Laramie man,
passing his gaze from the nearly spent horse to the excited
newcomer. “From the looks of your horse, neighbor,
I reckon you only hit an occasional high place for a
good distance back.”</p>

<p>“We flew,” grinned the man, “but we had ter. Ain’t
forgot me, have ye?”</p>

<p>He looked at Wild Bill ingratiatingly.</p>

<p>“Dot and carry one!” cried Wild Bill, recognizing the
newcomer suddenly. “Can this be Sim Pierce, the gent
I came company front with in Hackamore? Sim Pierce,
scion of the Pierces of San Antone?”</p>

<p>“Aw’ shucks!” said Sim Pierce deprecatingly, drawing
a bar of chewing from his hip pocket, and loading
himself with one corner of it.</p>

<p>Returning the tobacco to his pocket, he dropped down
on the bench on which the pards were sitting, chewed
wide and reflectively for a few moments, and hooked up
one knee between his hands.</p>

<p>“Sim,” remarked Wild Bill, after the silence had begun
to grow embarrassing, “did you ride your caballo into<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>
a quiver just to come here and show Buffalo Bill and
me how you handle a plug of Cowboy’s Pride?”</p>

<p>“Waal, not so you kin notice,” answered Sim. “I was
glad I seen ye out hyer by yerselves. It gives me a
chanst ter onbosom myself without lettin’ the Perrys
savvy.”</p>

<p>“Perrys! Only one Perry and two Dunbars live in
that house now.”</p>

<p>“Which I stand kerrected. Buffler Bill an’ pards have
shore done a heap fer the Perrys an’ Nate Dunbar.
Gosh-all-whittaker! Say, I’d have given my boots ter
see a weddin’ in the saddle, hosses slashin’ erlong like
all-possessed, sky pilot pufformin’ like he never done
afore! Say, I’ll bet that was some fine as a spectacle.”</p>

<p>“Some, and that’s a fact, Sim,” said Wild Bill. “But
you’re not telling why you raced up here like a scared
coyote looking for home and mother. Does it pain
you any to get down to cases?”</p>

<p>“Hyer’s where I git at it,” answered Sim. “That sky
pilot, Jordan, the feller as done the knot tyin’ while
the hosses was at a run, sent me hyer. He had a message
fer Buffler Bill an’ pards.”</p>

<p>“Ah,” spoke up the scout. “What was the message?”</p>

<p>“‘Tell Buffler Bill,’ says the sky pilot, ‘not ter leave
the Star-A ranch fer a spell yit. Tell him,’ he says
further, ‘that ther trouble ain’t over fer ther Perrys.’
Things is hatchin’ right this minit, he allows, over ter
Lige Benner’s. Lige ain’t feelin’ none too good over the
way he got done up, an’ he’s plannin’ ter cut loose with
some other kind of er rough house.”</p>

<p>“How did Jordan discover that?” queried Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>“One o’ Benner’s men, who’s a friend o’ Jordan’s,
sprung a leak. The sky pilot got all worked up. He’s a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>
nervy ombray, that same Jordan, but he’s been takin’
more physical exercise lately than what he kin stand. He’s
laid up fer repairs in the Delmonico <em>Ho</em>-tel in Hackamore.”</p>

<p>“Not sick?”</p>

<p>“Not him&mdash;jest tired like. Preachin’ the Gospel is
some differn’t from makin’ er splice in the saddle with
the hosses jest er-smokin’. Right strenyus work fer a
sky pilot, I call <em>that</em>.”</p>

<p>“What sort of deviltry is Lige Benner hatching, Sim?”
went on the scout.</p>

<p>“Benner’s man didn’t say&mdash;mebby he didn’t know&mdash;but
he allowed it was ter be pulled off some suddent.
Jordan thought you fellers might git a line on purceedin’s
an’ use yore original, Cody brand o’ kybosh.”</p>

<p>“That’s all?”</p>

<p>“That’s all. I’ll now go over ter the c’ral, put out
my hoss an’ hang eround till arter dinner; then I’ll p’int
fer Hackamore. Whar’s Nate?”</p>

<p>“Gone to town. You’d have passed him if you’d come
the regular trail.”</p>

<p>“Shucks! Say, I was in sich a big hurry that I kim
’cross lots. Waal, hyer’s fer ther c’ral.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce stepped toward his horse and laid hold of
the bridle reins.</p>

<p>“Mind, Sim,” warned the scout as the man moved off,
“not a word about this to Mrs. Dunbar or Perry. There
may be nothing to it, and there’s no need of arousing the
fears of those in the house.”</p>

<p>“Shore not,” flung back Pierce over his shoulder as
he moved away with his horse. “I’ll keep mum, all
right.”</p>

<p>“What do you think about this, Hickok?” queried the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>
scout thoughtfully, when he and the Laramie man were
again alone.</p>

<p>“I don’t think that sky pilot would have sent Sim with
a warning unless there was good ground for worry.”</p>

<p>“My notion, exactly. Jordan isn’t a man to shy at
trifles. But how are we to know what’s taking place
at Benner’s ranch?”</p>

<p>“I’ve got a way for discovering that, pard. Listen.”</p>

<p>With that, the Laramie man settled back and freed his
mind of a daring expedient which had abruptly occurred
to him.</p>

<p>“It might be safe enough for Buffalo Bill or one of
his pards to call at Lige Benner’s ranch, but if one of
us dropped in there, compadre, how much would he
find out?”</p>

<p>“Not much, and that’s a fact,” said Buffalo Bill. “Benner
is the kind of a snake-in-the-grass that strikes from
cover, and he hunts his cover well. If you or I went to
his place, Hickok, we might or might not come away
with our scalps; but&mdash;and mark this&mdash;if anything happened
to us, Lige Benner would fix things so he could
prove an alibi.”</p>

<p>“Right-o. I wasn’t thinking along that line, however.
If Benner is laying his wires, Buffalo Bill or his pards
wouldn’t be able to discover anything; but if some one
went there who wasn’t known to be one of Cody’s pards,
there’d be a fine opportunity for getting a line on Benner.”</p>

<p>“Well, yes. I’m not catching your drift, though,
Hickok.”</p>

<p>“Here’s the drift: Suppose I fix up in different clothes
and ride to Benner’s? Maybe I’m a cowpuncher hunting
a job, and maybe I’m a Jew peddler, or any other thing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>
that seems most likely to fill the bill. Benner wouldn’t
know me from Adam, and I’m willing to gamble my
spurs that I’d uncover a pay streak of information.”</p>

<p>The scout shook his head dubiously.</p>

<p>“Benner and all his men know you, pard,” said he.
“It’s a question whether you could hide your identity so
they wouldn’t know you. If you blew in there in a disguise,
and they discovered who you were, there’d be
fireworks and fatalities. Is it worth the risk?”</p>

<p>“Not is it worth the risk, pard, but is there a chance
that the risk would work out? Personally, I wouldn’t
be averse to a little excitement, but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“That’s the way you always stack up, Hickok, and
that’s the point that would work most against you.”</p>

<p>“But,” went on Hickok, “I understand my responsibilities,
and that, if I don’t get away without arousing
suspicion, what information I pick up won’t do Perry or
the Dunbars any good. Which and wherefore is the
reason I’ll play my cards with care and caution. Besides,
you know how well I can make up. If I wasn’t
a pard of Cody’s, and mired in the West, I reckon I’d
be on the stage. Am I, or am I not, an actor?”</p>

<p>“You are,” laughed the scout; “one of the best actors
I’ve seen in many a day. I remember how you played
the part of a vaquero, over in Arizona, and fooled the
rest of your pards.”</p>

<p>“Ah! Well, if I could fool my pards, why can’t I fool
Benner and his outfit? I can, and I will. Just give
me leave to try, that’s all.”</p>

<p>The scout reflected. When Wild Bill left only the
scout would be with Perry and Mrs. Dunbar. If Benner
and his men tried to make a raid on the Star-A, there
would be merry doings to follow and perhaps some losses<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>
of Star-A property. But a raid was too open a warfare
for Benner, the scout knew. The unscrupulous cattleman
liked best a covert and more reprehensible hostility&mdash;something
like a bullet from ambush, or a knife in the
back. But, after the lesson Benner had received at the
hands of the scout and his pards, it was doubtful whether
he would even dare to launch lead from cover. If he
was planning reprisal against Perry and Dunbar, Benner
would proceed by more devious ways to effect his
purposes. It was necessary that his plans should be
known so that they might be guarded against.</p>

<p>“While we’re hemming and hawing and sidestepping,
pard,” spoke up Wild Bill, “the plot is thickening over
at Benner’s. And Benner’s, you know, is a good two
hours’ ride down the Brazos. Come to centre quick,
so I can mosey along&mdash;if I’m going.”</p>

<p>“We’re not at all sure there’s any plotting going on
at Benner’s,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“So far as that goes, we’re not sure of much of anything
in this world but death and taxes. Anyhow, Pard
Cody, about two minutes ago you rose to remark that
Jordan wasn’t a man to send a messenger with a warning
unless there was really something on the carpet.”</p>

<p>“Nor do I think he is,” answered the scout. “Jordan,
for a sky pilot, is about as clear-headed, practical a man
as I ever met. But suppose it was part of Benner’s
game to steer this man of his against the sky pilot with
a fake report of trouble brewing? What if that’s a part
of Benner’s plan?”</p>

<p>“How would Benner gain anything by that?” asked
Wild Bill, wrinkling his brows over this new phase of
the matter.</p>

<p>“He might gain just the point you’re suggesting&mdash;that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>
one of us ride to his ranch for investigation. Perhaps
that’s what he’s working for.”</p>

<p>“So he can get hold of one of us?”</p>

<p>“Possibly.”</p>

<p>“Well, Benner’s long-headed, Pard Cody, but he’s not
so long-headed as all that comes to. I’ll gamble that
Benner’s man who tipped off the sky pilot was acting
in good faith. We know Jordan has friends at Benner’s;
and maybe Perry has a few there, too, and that they’re
trying to show friendship in the only way they dare, and
hold their jobs. Which is it, yes or no?”</p>

<p>“Go ahead,” said the scout; “but, if you’re not back
by some time to-night, you’ll know I’m hitting the trail
on the hunt for you.”</p>

<p>“I’ll get back, and don’t you forget that. Stay right
here for half an hour and I’ll show you something.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill, as he spoke, got up from the bench. A
moment later he had disappeared in the bunk house behind
the ranch headquarters.</p>

<p>The scout, filling and lighting his pipe, leaned back on
the bench and gave way to reflections that were not
wholly agreeable.</p>

<p>Here, where he and his friends had wrought peace
and happiness on the Star-A section of the Brazos, had
suddenly appeared the ugly, serpent-like head of under-handed
war.</p>

<p>Perry, just when he was securing the respect and confidence
of the cattlemen up and down the river&mdash;excepting
Benner, of course&mdash;might be called on to face more
troubles. And of these he had had enough, and more
than enough.</p>

<p>Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar, too, might be rudely disturbed
in their new-found dream of happiness. This possibility<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>
the scout regretted deeply, for he had taking a great liking
to Dunbar and his wife, and would have gone far to
insure their tranquil future.</p>

<p>The scout wished that he had not allowed the baron,
the trapper and the little Piute to leave Perry’s for the
Dinkelmann ranch. If clouds were really beginning to
show in the peaceful skies, all the pards should be corraled
in one place, ready to hurl their united strength
against any quarter of the compass from which a sudden
call might come.</p>

<p>“Podner, who lives hyer?”</p>

<p>The raucous voice broke in suddenly on the scout’s
reflections. Lifting his eyes he stared at about as ornery
a specimen of the genus hobo as he had ever set eyes on.</p>

<p>The man’s face was dirty; his slouch hat was full of
bullet holes and the crown was loose and flapping.
Through the crown protruded a few stray locks of unkempt
hair. Over the man’s left eye was a red handkerchief
bandage. His face was dirty. His ragged
blue flannel shirt and his torn, greasy trousers were
belted in at the waist with a section of frayed rope. On
one foot he wore a boot, and on the other a moccasin.
But he was riding a good horse, well accoutred&mdash;a
horse the scout recognized as Wild Bill’s.</p>

<p>“Get off that horse, you!” cried the scout, rising
sternly. “If&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout’s voice trailed into silence, and the silence
was broken by a hearty laugh from the man in the saddle.</p>

<p>“By gorry,” came the familiar tones of the Laramie
man, “if I didn’t fool the king of scouts himself, I’m a
yap! Whoosh! You must have mislaid the eagle eye,
pard! What chance has Benner got to get next to me
if you went so wide of the mark?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span></p>

<p>The scout joined in his pard’s laugh.</p>

<p>“You’ll do, Wild Bill,” said he, “all but the horse.
Your get-up don’t jibe with the riding gear and the animal
you’re riding. The horse and trappings will be a
dead give-away.”</p>

<p>“Nary, Pard Cody. The horse and trappings are
going to be a big help.”</p>

<p>“How?”</p>

<p>“Why, look. I come breezing up to Benner’s hangout
with a yarn to the effect that I lifted the horse at
the Star-A. That ought to get me in with Benner, if
he’s at all crooked. A man who’ll steal a horse will probably
be the sort of a chap he’d like to use in his present
game of cold deck and loaded ivories. I’ve the medicine
tongue for a job like that, don’t you think?”</p>

<p>“You’re one of the most resourceful men in a pinch
I ever saw, Hickok,” declared the scout. “Lay your
own plans and carry them out in your own way, but be
sure and get back here to-night.”</p>

<p>“That’s me. When I come, I’ll come loaded.”</p>

<p>“With information, I hope, and with none of Benner’s
lead. So long, and good luck to you.”</p>

<p>“Adios!”</p>

<p>Wild Bill kicked his heels into Beeswax’s ribs and
started through the timber, en route down the river and
headed for Benner’s.</p>

<p>“He’ll make good,” thought the scout, “and if there’s
anything brewing at trouble headquarters, Wild Bill will
hustle back with the news.”</p>

<p>Getting up from the bench, he knocked the ashes out of
his pipe and went to join Perry and Sim Pierce in front
of the cabin.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.<br />
<span class="fs70">AT LIGE BENNER’S RANCH.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Lige Benner had his private quarters in a big adobe
house. The house capped a “rise” of ground, and from
its windows Benner could look below and see the big
bunk house, the huge “chuck shanty,” the blacksmith
shop, the tool sheds, the wagon shelters and one of his
horse corrals. In point of size the various buildings
formed a small village, inhabited by at least fifty men.</p>

<p>The lord of the village lived on the low hill, kept
ceaseless vigilance over his men and ruled them with an
iron hand.</p>

<p>It was currently reported that a love affair, in early
life, had ended disastrously for Benner and had soured
his disposition.</p>

<p>Where he came from, when he settled on the Brazos,
no one knew. He had been so long in his present location,
however, that his original hailing place had long
since ceased to be a matter of any interest.</p>

<p>Steers bearing his brand&mdash;the Circle-B&mdash;were numbered
by thousands, and ranged over many square miles
of country.</p>

<p>At this particular time the cattle business was enjoying
unprecedented prosperity, and wealth flowed in on
Benner far and away beyond his powers of spending.
This very fact seemed to render him irritable. He
pictured to himself the delights which money could buy
in Galveston, San Antonio, New Orleans and New York,
and fretted because he dared not leave his ranch to go to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>
places where his money could bring him a larger return
of enjoyment. He hadn’t a foreman whom he could
trust. A younger brother, a hunchback, lived with him,
but even this brother had little of his confidence. Jerry,
as the hunchback was called, was all well enough as an
aide, but if Benner had absented himself for any great
length of time from the ranch, Jerry would surely have
manipulated affairs to his own profit.</p>

<p>Jerry was a schemer. Shrewd as a fox, he was as sly
as a serpent, brutal and utterly unscrupulous. His nature
seemed to have been warped into ugly channels when his
body was broken.</p>

<p>Benner had given Jerry a home, and Jerry repaid his
brother by giving him advice. The advice, although not
always honest, never failed to redound to Lige Benner’s
benefit. So, while he had come to trust to Jerry’s shrewdness
in counsel, he came also to distrust his principles&mdash;principles
which Benner occasionally appropriated to his
own use.</p>

<p>During the forenoon of the day that had witnessed the
call of Sim Pierce at the Star-A ranch, Lige Benner and
his hunchback brother were in the big living room of
the adobe house.</p>

<p>Jerry’s crippled body was almost lost in the depths of
an easy-chair. He was smoking a home-made cigarette
and watching Lige with two brilliant, ferret-like eyes.
Lige Benner, deeply wrought up over something, was
pacing up and down the room.</p>

<p>“What’s the use of fretting?” asked Jerry in his thin,
high-pitched, querulous voice. “Do as I tell you, Lige,
and you’ll get even with that outfit up the river.”</p>

<p>“I can’t get the girl, can I?” fumed Lige, halting and
whirling on the crooked form in the chair.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span></p>

<p>“You can get something better, Lige,” answered the
hunchback, his eyes glimmering, “and that’s revenge for
having lost the girl.”</p>

<p>“Revenge on who?”</p>

<p>“On Dunbar, on Perry&mdash;perhaps on Buffalo Bill and
his pards.”</p>

<p>“Without making trouble for myself?”</p>

<p>It was not so much the coward that spoke, as the
man of secret ways and dark.</p>

<p>“Yes, Lige, and without making trouble for yourself,”
said Jerry. “I’ve thought it all out. That’s why I sent
one of the men to watch the Star-A ranch, and it’s why
I sent Red Steve to Hackamore after Abraham Isaacs.”</p>

<p>“What in the fiend’s name are you intending to do
with Abraham Isaacs? How’ll he help me get revenge
on Perry, and Dunbar, and Buffalo Bill?”</p>

<p>“Wait till Red Steve gets here with Isaacs.”</p>

<p>A cackling laugh came from Jerry. He had a way of
laughing which was by sound alone, for not a muscle of
his cadaverous face moved. It was more the laugh of a
hyena than of a human being.</p>

<p>“What you’ve got up your sleeve is too many for me,
Jerry,” growled Lige, “but if you can pull off the game
as you say, I’ll give you five thousand in gold. D’you
hear? Five thousand in yellow boys if you make trouble
for Perry and Dunbar without making any for me.”</p>

<p>A greedy sparkle appeared and disappeared in the
hunchback’s eyes.</p>

<p>“I’ll get that money, Lige,” said he, “and you can
bank on it.”</p>

<p>Lige whirled and stared at him.</p>

<p>“You’re an artful little devil,” he grunted, “and I
shouldn’t wonder if you made good.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span></p>

<p>“I run to headwork, Lige,” piped Jerry, highly pleased
with the left-handed compliment. “I’m a cripple, and
can’t ever do anything worth while with my body&mdash;but
it’s the mind that rules! It’s the brain that accomplishes
things! If I can’t work myself I can make others work
for me. If&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>A man, covered with the dust of the trail, appeared in
the open outside door.</p>

<p>“Come in, Hamp!” cried Jerry, breaking off his words
the moment his eyes had fallen on the man. “You’re
just from the Star-A ranch?”</p>

<p>Hamp pushed into the room and stood staring grimly
from Lige to Jerry, snapping at his leg with his quirt.</p>

<p>“That’s whar I’m from,” he answered.</p>

<p>“You watched the place, Hamp?”<ins class="corr" id="tn124" title="Transcriber’s Note—“quereid the hunchback eagerly” changed to “queried the hunchback eagerly”.">queried the hunchback eagerly</ins>.</p>

<p>“Shore I did, all last night an’ half the forenoon.
When somethin’ happened I thort ye wanted ter know.
I come right hyer with it.”</p>

<p>“No one saw you watching the place, Hamp?”</p>

<p>“Nary a soul.”</p>

<p>“Who’s there?”</p>

<p>“Buffler Bill an’ pards, Mr. an’ Mrs. Dunbar, an’
Perry.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner scowled at mention of Mrs. Dunbar.</p>

<p>“They’re there now, Hamp?” went on Jerry.</p>

<p>“Naw, not now. When I left only Buffler Bill, Wild
Bill, the gal an’ Perry was thar. The Dutchman, the ole
juniper of a trapper an’ the little Injun had left fer a
call on Dinkelmann. When Dunbar pulled out, I pulled
out, too.”</p>

<p>The fact that Dunbar had “pulled out” aroused considerable
interest in Lige and Jerry.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p>

<p>“Why did Dunbar leave, and where did he go, Hamp?”
demanded Jerry.</p>

<p>“Dunbar pulled out fer Hackamore ter be gone two
or three days. He’s gone arter cowboys ter help run
the ranch, arter supplies, an’”&mdash;here a snarling laugh
came from Hamp’s bearded lips&mdash;“ter git a diming ring
fer his wife.”</p>

<p>The hunchback slapped his clawlike hands.</p>

<p>“I’d reckoned on taking the first fall out of Perry,”
said he, “but events are shaping up so Dunbar is to get
it. That’s all, Hamp.”</p>

<p>“Hit the bunk house,” said Lige; “no range work for
you, Hamp, till to-morrow. Keep mum about what
you’ve done, too. There’s twenty pesos in gold for you, if
I learn you haven’t said a word about the work you’ve
done.”</p>

<p>Hamp mumbled something under his breath, turned
and shuffled out.</p>

<p>“We’re getting along in fine shape, Lige,” crowed the
hunchback. “It won’t be long till you get part of your
revenge now. We’ll take care of Dunbar first.”</p>

<p>“I want to get Perry, too,” snapped Lige; “don’t forget
that while your brain’s at work.”</p>

<p>“It’ll be easy to get Perry&mdash;but Dunbar first, Dunbar
first.”</p>

<p>“And what about Buffalo Bill?”</p>

<p>“He’ll come harder, and it’ll take more scheming,
Lige. We’ll save Buffalo Bill for the last. Oh, this is
fine&mdash;finer than I expected. So Dunbar has gone to
Hackamore to buy a diamond ring for Mrs. Dunbar,
hey?”</p>

<p>Jerry went off into one of his mirthless cackles again.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p>

<p>“It couldn’t have happened better, Lige,” he declared,
“honest it couldn’t.”</p>

<p>“Stop your confounded sputtering and tell me what
you’re going to make happen? What are you keeping
me in the dark for?”</p>

<p>“I’m keeping you in the dark, Lige, until I can make
sure of Isaacs.”</p>

<p>“Isaacs is going to help?”</p>

<p>“Yes, Lige, if I can get him to. Have you got any
influence with Abraham Isaacs?”</p>

<p>“I’ve bought stuff from him.”</p>

<p>“Then buy some more stuff from him, Lige! Buy as
much as you can, but don’t take the stuff or pay him the
money until he’ll promise to help us.”</p>

<p>“Ole Abe Isaacs would sell his soul if he saw a chance
for profit. I can make a deal with him, but what in
blazes can that old Jew do for us?”</p>

<p>“I’ll tell you later, Lige, when&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Oh, be hanged to you.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner whirled away and stepped into the open
door. As he did so, a cowboy hurried up from the foot
of the hill.</p>

<p>“Feller down there wants a job, Benner,” grinned the
cowboy.</p>

<p>“I’ve got all the men I want.”</p>

<p>“He’s a hoss thief, I reckon,” went on the cowboy,
“an’&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“If you’re sure of that,” cut in Benner sharply, “send
the fellow to Hackamore with a couple of the men.”</p>

<p>“But if he is a hoss thief, then he’s been liftin’ some
o’ the cattle belongin’ ter Buffler Bill’s pards an’&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Been stealing horses belonging to Buffalo Bill’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>
pards?” demanded Benner. “Send the man up here and
tell him to bring the horse.”</p>

<p>“That’s right, Lige,” said Jerry. “It’ll pay to look
into this.”</p>

<p>Lige and Jerry Benner stood in the door of the adobe
house as the stranger came up the hill.</p>

<p>“He looks like a bad egg,” muttered Lige.</p>

<p>“That’s right, Lige,” said Jerry, “he does. I reckon
either of us is competent to tell a bad egg from a good
one.”</p>

<p>Lige didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice, and
turned on him sharply. Jerry didn’t take his eyes from
the figure advancing up the slope, but the weird laugh
came through his motionless lips.</p>

<p>Before the brothers had a chance to talk any further,
the stranger came to a halt at the door. His horse was
a “rangy” animal and undoubtedly possessed both speed
and bottom; and the trappings, although showing signs
of hard usage, were of the best.</p>

<p>The ragged and tattered man in the saddle did not
harmonize with his equipment. Any one could see, with
half an eye, that something was wrong.</p>

<p>“Who are you?” demanded Lige Benner roughly.</p>

<p>The man on the horse pulled down the brim of his
ragged old hat, drew the back of a dirty hand across
his lips and answered:</p>

<p>“Gringo Pete Billings is the handle I tote, amigo.
Don’t go fer ter think I’m as tough as what I look, kase
I ain’t.”</p>

<p>“You couldn’t be, gringo,” spoke up Jerry, with a
cackle.</p>

<p>Gringo Pete pulled himself together and stared at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>
big-headed, short-bodied, long-armed form at Lige Benner’s
side.</p>

<p>“Say, I’m convarsin’ with Lige Benner. Aire you
him? Which of ye is him, huh?”</p>

<p>“I’m Lige Benner,” said the rancher.</p>

<p>“Then kindly request Leetle Sawed-off ter hold his
yaup. I want him ter cork, I do. I don’t jest savvy
what he says, but someways his tork grinds on me er
heap.”</p>

<p>“Never mind what you like, or don’t like,” returned
Lige Benner sharply. “Tell us what you want here?”</p>

<p>“I want er job, that’s what.”</p>

<p>“Where are you from?”</p>

<p>“Ever’whar. Thar ain’t no settled place whar I hail
from.”</p>

<p>“What sort of a job do you want?”</p>

<p>“Ain’t pertic’ler. Anythin’ I kin git.”</p>

<p>“What can you do?”</p>

<p>“Whatever anybody wants me ter do. I ain’t pertic’ler
about that, nuther.”</p>

<p>“What ails your eye?”</p>

<p>“Had er argyment with er greaser. The eye’ll be all
right in er month, but the greaser’ll be laid up fer a
y’ar, anyways. Oh, I’m some persimmons on the wrassle!
Ain’t no three greasers kin git the best o’ me when
I’m feelin’ right.”</p>

<p>“What have you been doing lately?”</p>

<p>Gringo Pete ran his one uncovered eye thoughtfully
over Lige Benner, then lifted it thoughtfully to the blue
sky.</p>

<p>“Say,” he answered finally, “you got ter have my pussonal
hist’ry? Kase if ye hev, I reckon I’ll look fer
a job some’rs else.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p>

<p>He picked up the reins as though he would ride on.</p>

<p>“Wait, Gringo!” chirped Jerry. “Lige, stop him. He’ll
be useful to us.”</p>

<p>“I was going to stop him, anyway,” returned Lige
Benner, getting around in front of Gringo’s horse.
“Don’t be in a rush,” he added. “You’ve got a horse
here that don’t belong to you.”</p>

<p>“Waal,” returned Gringo, “does it belong ter you?”</p>

<p>“No.”</p>

<p>“Then what reason ye got ter find fault, huh?”</p>

<p>“No reason at all. I’d like to know, though, where
you stole the animal, and how.”</p>

<p>“I didn’t steal it&mdash;jest borried it.”</p>

<p>“Well, where did you ‘borrow’ the horse?”</p>

<p>“Back at the Star-A ranch. Walked inter the c’ral
big as life, put on the gear an’ rode off. That’s all thar
was to it. When I git through with the critter, I’m
goin’ ter take it back.”</p>

<p>“You must be a pretty slick thief if you could steal
a horse belonging to one of Buffalo Bill’s pards, and
make a safe getaway.”</p>

<p>A fierce look crossed the dirty face of Gringo Pete.</p>

<p>“I don’t mind tellin’ ye,” he scowled, “that the reason
I took the animile is bekase it belonged ter one o’ that
ole rawhide’s pards. Some day, ye kin bet yer bottom
dollar, I’m goin’ ter git Buffler Bill’s skelp!”</p>

<p>These remarks caused both Lige and Jerry to take renewed
interest in their unsavory visitor.</p>

<p>“What have you got against Buffalo Bill?” asked
Lige, with a significant look at Jerry.</p>

<p>“What hev I got ag’in him?” shouted Gringo, “me?”
He stood up in the stirrups and shook his fist up the
river. “Wasn’t it him as trimmed me fer all I was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>
wuth? Wasn’t it that thar long-haired, meddlin’ coyote
that busted up my bizness an’ took ev’ry dollar I got in
the world? An’ ain’t I follered him all the way from
Arizony ter Texas jest ter play even?”</p>

<p>“How did he trim you?” demanded Lige Benner,
more and more interested.</p>

<p>Gringo Pete suddenly collapsed into his saddle.</p>

<p>“I’m torkin’ more’n what I ort,” he mumbled. “I belonged
ter a gang this hyar long-haired trouble-chaser
put out o’ bizness. That’s all I’m tellin’. I want a job
hyar bekase Buffler Bill is on the Brazos, an’ I want ter
be nigh him. When he leaves&mdash;if he ever does&mdash;I’ll
leave, too. I’ll foller him ter Ballyhack but what I’ll land
on him afore I’m done. Now, do yer torkin’. Am I
ter stay hyer, er am I ter ride on?”</p>

<p>“Stay here, Gringo,” piped Jerry.</p>

<p>“Get down,” added Lige. “I’ll have one of my men
take care of your horse. I reckon we can give you a
job.”</p>

<p>Gringo Pete got down and Lige Benner yelled for one
of his men to come up from below.</p>

<p>“Don’t ye go ter puttin’ that hoss in yer wrangler’s
herd,” protested Peter, “an’ don’t go gittin’ my gear
mixed up with yer punchers’ equipment. S’posin’ some’un
from ther Star-A blowed in hyer huntin’ that ’ar hoss?”</p>

<p>“I’ll have the animal picketed down there among those
trees,” said Lige, pointing to a little grove at the foot of
the slope and on the river bank. “Your ridin’ traps will
be left with the animal. If any one comes here from
the Star-A looking for the horse, it’s a safe gamble the
brute won’t be found. Make your mind easy about that,
Gringo. Go into the house.”</p>

<p>Gringo Pete turned and followed Jerry into the living<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>
room. Lige lingered in front to give orders to the man
who had come for the horse. When Lige got into the
house, Gringo was comfortably seated in a rocking-chair,
smoking a black cigar which Jerry had given him.</p>

<p>“Lige,” said Jerry, fixing his glittering eyes on his
brother, “I’ve got a place for Gringo in my department.”</p>

<p>That was the first time Lige Benner had learned that
Jerry had a “department” at the ranch.</p>

<p>“All right,” said Lige, “make your own deal with
him.”</p>

<p>“I’m going to have him work with Red Steve, Lige.”</p>

<p>Red Steve was always called on for the murderous,
underhand work that could not be safely entrusted to any
one else. To yoke Gringo with Red Steve meant that
the stranger was to be given labor of the “strong-arm”
variety without delay.</p>

<p>“Have it your way, Jerry,” answered Lige.</p>

<p>“I’d like ter fix it so’st I kin have a leetle time o’ my
own, now and then,” put in Gringo. “’Casionally I’d like
ter take a pasear up the Brazos, keepin’ track o’ Buffler
Bill.”</p>

<p>“You’ll have plenty of time for that, Gringo,” said
Jerry, with another of his weird laughs. “I’ll&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>A man appeared in the door&mdash;a red-haired, evil-looking
Texan.</p>

<p>“I’m back,” the newcomer bawled, “an’ I’ve got Abraham
Isaacs along.”</p>

<p>“Dry up, Steve!” called Lige angrily. “Can’t you see
we’re not alone here?”</p>

<p>Lige turned to Jerry. The hunchback was already
on his feet and opening a door leading into a rear room.</p>

<p>“In here with you, Gringo,” said Jerry. “When I’m
ready to talk with you again I’ll let you know.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span></p>

<p>“What am I ter do in thar?” queried Gringo Pete,
moving toward the open door.</p>

<p>“You’re to stay in that room till you’re called, Gringo,”
replied the hunchback.</p>

<p>Gringo Pete passed through the door. It was closed
behind him, and he heard a bolt shoot into place.</p>

<p>“By gorry!” thought Gringo Pete, otherwise Wild
Bill, “suppose they’ve cottoned to the fact that I’m a
fake. And suppose they have shoved the bolt on me, not
because they want to have a private talk with this Isaacs,
but because they are making me a prisoner on general
principles? Well, we’ll see,” he finished grimly. “That
talk I put up seemed to sink pretty deep.”</p>

<p>He looked around him. His slouching manner had
dropped from him as if by magic, and he had instantly
become the alert, energetic Laramie man, ready for any
turn of the wheel of fate.</p>

<p>He was in a small room&mdash;a room with a single window
opening in the direction of the river. Crossing to the
window he looked out.</p>

<p>The cowboy called by Lige Benner was moving down
the hill and toward the small grove with Beeswax. What
concerned Wild Bill most, however, was the figure of
the red-haired Texan, leaning against the wall of the
house, close to the window, and evidently on guard.</p>

<p>“They sent Red Steve there to make sure I didn’t try
to get away,” muttered Wild Bill. “Oh, I’m going to
like this job, I know I am. It has all the exciting trimmings
that capture my nimble fancy.”</p>

<p>There was a table and a bed in the room. In one
corner, also, there was a stone fireplace, built in the Mexican
style. The stone chimney ran up along the end of
the partition that separated the chamber from the living<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>
room. Recalling the “lay” of the living room, Wild
Bill remembered that there was a fireplace in that department,
and in the corner. The two angles formed
by the partition and the adobe wall of the house, gave
opportunity for two Mexican fireplaces from the one
chimney&mdash;a fireplace in each room.</p>

<p>With a stealthy, reassuring glance through the window
at the lounging form of Red Steve, Wild Bill
crossed to the narrow fireplace, crawled into it and stood
upright.</p>

<p>Voices reached his ears from the living room, and
every spoken word was clear and distinct.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.<br />
<span class="fs70">A FIENDISH PLOT.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The flues from the two fireplaces joined at a point
a little way above Wild Bill’s head. The sound of
voices, coming through the fireplace in the living room,
ascended the flue and echoed down to the listener’s ear.
The sound was amplified, in its passage, as though it had
come through a whispering gallery.</p>

<p>“I want to buy some stuff, Isaacs,” came the voice of
Lige Benner. “What have you got in that old grip?”</p>

<p>“I haf got vatches, der finest dot efer vas brought into
Texas, mein friendt,” were the words of Isaacs. “Und
I haf brecious shtones like you nefer see pefore&mdash;rings,
und sooch like. Vat it iss you vant, mein friendt? Nodding
is too goot for you rich cattle barons&mdash;und so I
pring nodding but der best to der cattle country. Vat iss
it you vant?”</p>

<p>“I spoiled that five-hundred-dollar watch I bought of
you a month ago, and I’d like another.”</p>

<p>“I schust sold Hank Phelps a fine vatch&mdash;ach, so fine!&mdash;for
six hundret tollar. He had chewels all ofer him,
yes. Dot vatch vas der piggest bargain yet. I lose
money on him&mdash;so much as fifty tollar. Hank Phelps
told me dot he spoil a vatch, too.”</p>

<p>“I want a better watch than Phelps bought,” said
Benner.</p>

<p>“Ach, so! Vone baron geds someding, den der odder
baron vants someding better. Here iss der king of all
vatches, der best vatch in Texas. I gif you der vatch<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>
for one t’ousant tollar, und I lose one hundret tollar on
him by wholesale. But you vas my friendt, Benner, und
I vould do a lot for you, yes.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill, uncomfortably situated in the fireplace, was
disappointed. He thought he was going to overhear
something bearing on Perry and the plot Benner was
said to be hatching against the Star-A rancher. But it
seemed that Benner had merely summoned Abraham
Isaacs to the ranch to buy some jewelry.</p>

<p>Those flush days in Texas had started the cattlemen
to spending their money right and left. Wealth was
lavished on watches and diamonds, and a class of peddlers
had sprung into existence, the like of which had
never been known before&mdash;and has never been known
since.</p>

<p>Hebrews traveled the length and breadth of the cattle
country, carrying satchels filled with diamonds and
watches. It is said that the value of the contents of these
old satchels sometimes amounted to as much as two hundred
thousand dollars! And, what is still more remarkable,
the peddlers were never molested while riding
across the lonely plains.</p>

<p>Lige Benner beat the Hebrew down to eight hundred
dollars for the watch. He also selected a watch charm,
diamond studded, for four hundred dollars, and a chain
for a hundred more. This made a purchase of thirteen
hundred dollars, all told, on which the crafty Isaacs
would realize, at the least, full five hundred dollars in
profit. A good day’s work for Isaacs, but&mdash;&mdash;</p>

<p>“I can give you the gold right now for all that plunder,
Isaacs,” said Lige Benner, “but I won’t until you
agree to do something for Jerry here.”</p>

<p>“Hey?” queried the Jew, with a gasp. “Vat iss it you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>
vant me to do? A sale iss a sale, mein friendt, mitout
anyding extra.”</p>

<p>“Well, you’ll do this for Jerry, or there won’t be any
sale.”</p>

<p>“What iss it?”</p>

<p>Here the voice of the hunchback entered the conversation.
The talk was getting interesting, and Wild Bill
listened with all his ears.</p>

<p>“Here it is, Abe. A young fellow by the name of
Dunbar has gone to Hackamore to buy a diamond ring.
I want you to sell it to him, Abe.”</p>

<p>“Iss dot all? I vill be gladt.”</p>

<p>“No, Abe, that’s not all. Are there any other diamond
merchants in Hackamore?”</p>

<p>“I’m der only vone.”</p>

<p>“Then Dunbar will have to buy of you?”</p>

<p>“He vill haf to buy of me if he buys of anypody, yes.”</p>

<p>“Good! Now, when he starts to leave town, or just
after he leaves, I want you to accuse him of stealing
some of your plunder. Do you understand, Abe?”</p>

<p>“But vat if he don’t shteal him?”</p>

<p>“Accuse him, anyway.”</p>

<p>“Den maybe I get meinself into troubles. I say he
shteal, und he don’t shteal. Vat vill happen mit me?”</p>

<p>“I’ll take care of that, Abe. Have you got any bogus
diamonds along with you, Abe?”</p>

<p>“Sure I haf. I carry der paste chems for peoples dot
don’t vas aple to puy der real shtones. Aber I don’t
pring any of dem here to Benner, no, pecause I knows
he vants only der best, yes.”</p>

<p>“Well, I want some of that bogus jewelry, Abe.
You’ll accuse Dunbar of stealing from you; the sheriff
will have to chase after him, and look through his saddlebags.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>
The stones will be found in the saddlebags, Abe,
so you won’t get yourself into trouble.”</p>

<p>“How vill der shtones get into der sattlepags if Dunbar
don’t take dem?”</p>

<p>“Leave that to me, Abe. Will you do as I say?”</p>

<p>There followed a brief silence.</p>

<p>“I don’t like dot,” said the Jew finally. “It looks pad
for me to mix in sooch business. Hein, hein! No, I
cannod assist mit it.”</p>

<p>“Then,” came the voice of Benner, “I don’t want this
truck I’ve picked out. Keep the stuff, and I’ll wait till
the next peddler blows in.”</p>

<p>“You von’t take vat you puy?” cried Isaacs, with a
groan of dismay.</p>

<p>“Not unless you help Jerry.”</p>

<p>“Subbose I say dot I help him, und subbose I don’t?
I got your money, und you got der vatch und der odder
t’ings. How about dot?”</p>

<p>“Not so fast, Abe,” chimed in Jerry. “Lige is going
to give you five hundred dollars in gold to bind the bargain,
and you’re to keep the stuff he has bought until
after this flare-up with Dunbar. When that’s over, Abe,
you come here and give Lige his jewelry, and take the
rest of your money.”</p>

<p>“Chentlemen,” wailed the Jew, “I don’t like dis business!
But vat can I do? I haf to lif. Yes, yes, I
vill do vat you say, but it iss a hardt bargain.”</p>

<p>“Hard bargain!” cried Lige Benner derisively. “Why,
you old skinner, you’re soaking everybody in the cattle
country, and you don’t let it worry you very much. You
haven’t got a hair-trigger conscience, Abe, not by a
long shot.”</p>

<p>“I don’d soak nopody, mein friendt, nefer. I sell so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>
close to der cost dot I vill be ruined if I don’t raise der
prices vone of dose days.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner laughed at this.</p>

<p>“Remember this, Abe,” went on Jerry: “You will be
as deep in the plot as anybody, and if you say a word
about the scheme you will get yourself into trouble,
but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Ach, Himmel!”</p>

<p>“But if you keep still, Abe, nobody will be the wiser,
and nothing will happen to you or to us. Understand,
Abe?”</p>

<p>“Yah, you bet you I geep so still as a clam. I don’t
speak nodding at all to anybody.”</p>

<p>“You’ll have to go right back to Hackamore, Abe, so
as to be sure Dunbar doesn’t get away from town before
he buys the diamond ring of you.”</p>

<p>“Vat tifference does it make, Cherry, vedder he puys
from me?”</p>

<p>“Why, Abe, if you have dealings with him it will
make it look more reasonable when you accuse him of
stealing from you. Can’t you see that?”</p>

<p>“Vat a fine headt for sooch dings you haf, mein
friendt! Yah, I see dot. I vill make it look so reasonaple
as I can. Gif me der fife hundret tollars und I vill
go pack by der town.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill could hear some one moving about the
room. After that there was a jingling of gold.</p>

<p>“How I like der fine yellow goldt!” came the greedy,
gloating voice of Isaacs. “See how dot shines! Vat a
rich mans you was, Misder Benner!”</p>

<p>“Never mind that,” said Benner dryly. “Count the
stuff and then hike for Hackamore. See that this game<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>
is played right, Isaacs, or you’ll never sell any more
stuff on the Brazos.”</p>

<p>“I do der best vat I can, chentlemen; und I am to
get der resdt of der gold ven I get droo?”</p>

<p>“You are,” said Benner. “In the meantime, you have
the plunder and part of the purchase price. That gives
you the long end of the deal.”</p>

<p>There was a little more talk, and then Abraham
Isaacs, having identified himself with as villainous a
scheme as was ever hatched, took his leave.</p>

<p>Wild Bill, frowning blackly, got out of the fireplace
and into the room. Stepping to the window he looked
cautiously out.</p>

<p>Red Steve was still leaning against the wall of the
building, and apparently had not moved since Wild Bill
had looked at him last. The Laramie man went over
and seated himself in a chair.</p>

<p>“The fiends!” he muttered, anger mounting high in
his breast. “So that’s to be Lige Benner’s vengeance
on Nate Dunbar, is it? He’ll take away the lad’s good
name, get him sent to prison, and cover Mrs. Dunbar
and Dick Perry with disgrace! They’d never stay in
the cattle country after such a game as that! Lucky I
came here! By gorry, this might have been pushed
through to a success if I hadn’t got next to it. I reckon
I’ve learned enough. My next move is to get away
and let Pard Cody know how I’ve developed this pay
streak. A quick move will save Perry and Dunbar.
A&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The bolt on the other side of the door was shoved
back and the door pushed open.</p>

<p>“Come out here, Gringo,” said Jerry Benner, showing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>
his thin, wizened face; “come out here and we’ll tell
you what you are to do.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill had been forgetting that he was to be
hired by Lige Benner.</p>

<p>But this would give him an opportunity to get away
from the Circle-B outfit and strike a bee line for the
Star-A ranch. He got up and passed out into the living
room.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE HUNCHBACK’S QUICK WIT.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Red Steve had been summoned from his post and into
the living room. He was there to meet Wild Bill when
he entered. Lige Benner was also there, an exultant
look on his face which proved he was well pleased
with the treacherous work planned by his brother.
Isaacs, of course, was already on his way back to Hackamore.</p>

<p>“Red Steve,” said Jerry, waving a hand toward Wild
Bill, “this is Gringo Pete Billings, who comes from
nowhere on a horse belonging to one of Buffalo Bill’s
pards. By the same token, Steve, Gringo hates Buffalo
Bill, and I think he’s a good enough hater to be a valuable
man for the White Caps.”</p>

<p>Red Steve passed his keen little eyes over Wild Bill,
measuring him with a stare that would have made almost
any one else but the Laramie man uncomfortable and
apprehensive.</p>

<p>“How am I sizin’ up, friend?” grinned Wild Bill. “My
clothes ain’t none too good, but they’re the best I got
since Cody an’ pards got through with me, over in Arizony.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill scowled and leaned against the wall.</p>

<p>“Ye don’t look none too promisin’ as a good citizen,”
growled Red Steve, “but what I want fer the White
Caps ain’t good citizens, but fellers that’ll do what I
tell ’em. Ye say ye’ve got it in fer this king o’ scouts?”</p>

<p>“Want me ter sing it?” yelped Wild Bill. “Ain’t I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>
follered Buffler Bill from Arizony jest ter git even with
him? Ain’t I hyer on the Brazos jest a-campin’ on his
trail?”</p>

<p>“What’re ye wantin’ ter do ter that feller as is called
the king o’ scouts?”</p>

<p>“The wust I kin.”</p>

<p>“Supposin’ he was staked out on the perary, an’ a
thousand head o’ stampedin’ steers run over him?”</p>

<p>Wild Bill’s blood began to boil. For a moment&mdash;just
a moment&mdash;it seemed as though he would throw off his
rôle of avenger for fictitious wrongs and tell Red Steve,
Lige and Jerry just what he thought of their murderous,
cold-blooded schemes. But he got a grip on himself
at the right instant, and went on with the part he was
playing.</p>

<p>“Kin ye do it, Red Steve?” he demanded. “Tork’s
cheap, but it takes somethin’ besides tork ter git Buffler
Bill in a fix like that.”</p>

<p>“Nigh ter Crowder’s ole c’ral, clost ter the Brazos,
thar’s a thousand head o’ Circle-B cattle rounded up.
The White Caps’ll hev charge o’ them cattle, an’ the
longhorns aire goin’ ter git away. The stampede’ll head
over ther place whar Buffler Bill an’ Dick Perry aire
staked out. Arter it’s over, an’ them stakes aire pulled,
the hull play’ll look like er happenchance. The scout
an’ Perry got in the way o’ ther herd; they was on foot,
an’ they couldn’t save theirselves, not noways.” A savage
grin crossed Red Steve’s villainous face. “What
d’ye think, Gringo Pete?” he asked.</p>

<p>“I think ye’re some hard ter beat if ye kin pull off
a game like that. How’re ye figgerin’ ter do it?”</p>

<p>Wild Bill’s “pay streak” was developing undreamed-of
possibilities. Used though he was to the merciless tactics<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>
of the frontier, his blood was running cold at these
desperate schemes, so calmly broached.</p>

<p>To Lige Benner and his inner circle of helpers, a
man’s good name or even his life weighed little against
an overmastering desire for vengeance.</p>

<p>“Come with me, Gringo Pete,” said Red Steve. “I’ll
take ye down where ye can tork with the rest o’ the
White Caps. The’s six o’ us now, all told, countin’ you
an’ me. This way!”</p>

<p>Steve exchanged a reassuring look with Lige Benner,
then led Wild Bill out of the house and down toward
the grove where the Laramie man’s horse had been
taken.</p>

<p>“Jerry, you scheming imp,” cried Lige Benner, whirling
on his brother, “what’s all this you’ve been up to?”</p>

<p>The hunchback was devoid of feeling. His crippled
body matched his crippled nature, making him abnormal,
fiendish in his schemes and fiendish in having them
carried out. His murderous disposition had turned a
fresh page&mdash;a page which even his brother Lige had
never suspected before.</p>

<p>“I’m planning for you, Lige,” cackled Jerry, “what
you’ve never had the nerve to plan for yourself&mdash;much
less to attempt to execute.”</p>

<p>“Be hanged to you! You’re going too far with your
staking and your stampeding! Look out, or you’ll bring
the whole cattle country down on me&mdash;say nothing of
Buffalo Bill’s pards.”</p>

<p>“How’ll they come down on you, Lige?” purred the
hunchback. “I’ve done all this White Cap planning,
haven’t I? This is the first you’ve heard of it, Lige,
ain’t it?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span></p>

<p>“I’m mixed up in it, just the same, you foxy, cold-blooded
whelp. Tell me what you’ve done.”</p>

<p>“I had Steve organize a gang of White Caps, Lige,”
explained Jerry. “There are six in the gang now, and
that’s a-plenty, I reckon. They wear white caps to disguise
themselves. When this trouble happens to Dunbar,
word will be sent to the ranch. Perry will go to Hackamore
to help Dunbar, and Buffalo Bill, of course, will
go with him. Both will be caught by the White Caps and
staked out. Then the steers will be stampeded&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>Lige Benner was walking the floor again. He had
not the nerve to let his brother’s diabolical plot be carried
out.</p>

<p>“I’ll not stand for it, Jerry!” he cried. “Working
that trick with Dunbar is clever, and all right; but this
other thing I won’t stand for. It would never succeed.”</p>

<p>Jerry ruffled up his humped back and spit at Lige
like an angry cat.</p>

<p>“I’ve started out to do the job, Lige,” he screeched,
“and I’ll do it!”</p>

<p>“You’ll not stake Cody out and run a herd of stampeded
steers over him,” declared Lige Benner, tossing
his hands, “and that’s flat. I’ll get my revenge on Cody
some other way.”</p>

<p>Jerry’s anger died down suddenly, but a treacherous
sparkle smoldered in his eyes.</p>

<p>“All right, Lige, all right,” said he. “I’ve got to ride
to Hackamore to carry out my part of the scheme against
Dunbar.”</p>

<p>“Your part? What’s your part?”</p>

<p>The jibbering laugh came from the wizened, expressionless
face of the hunchback.</p>

<p>“How are those paste diamonds to be found in Dunbar’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>
saddlebags, Lige,” he asked, “if I don’t put ’em
there? That’s my work. I didn’t want to ride into
Hackamore with Abraham Isaacs because people might
think of it later, and suspect something. But I can go
into town now, and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The words died on the hunchback’s lips. He was looking
at the seemingly blank wall&mdash;staring hard.</p>

<p>“What ails you, Jerry?” queried Lige.</p>

<p>Without speaking, Jerry shambled to the wall and
swept one clawlike hand over it; then he looked at the
hand and turned on Lige with eyes that gleamed like
coals.</p>

<p>“Look, Lige!” he whispered hoarsely.</p>

<p>He held up his hand. Lige Benner saw that it had
been blackened with something from the wall.</p>

<p>“What is it?” went on Lige curiously.</p>

<p>“Soot! Soot and ashes, Lige. Here’s where Gringo
Pete Billings was leaning while Red Steve was talking
to him. Gringo Pete couldn’t have picked up soot and
ashes on his clothes between the Star-A ranch and
here.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner had not the wit necessary to follow
these deductions back to their cause, but he knew that
some discovery of importance had been made by Jerry.</p>

<p>The hunchback whirled around, without waiting for
further talk, and rushed into the rear room. He saw
the chair where Wild Bill had been sitting when summoned
into the living room to talk with Red Steve. The
chair also had traces of soot and ashes on its seat and
back.</p>

<p>Like a hound on the scent, Jerry glided to the fireplace,
staring into it and upward with sharp, glimmering eyes.
The next moment the hunchback got into the fireplace.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span></p>

<p>“Go into the next room and talk, Lige,” he called out;
“talk out loud, Lige, just like you were talking with
Isaacs.”</p>

<p>Gradually Lige Benner’s mind was leading him to the
truth. As his brother proceeded with his investigations,
the trend of the hunchback’s suspicions was made so
manifest that Lige could not escape understanding them.</p>

<p>In the living room Lige spoke two or three sentences
in the easy, conversational tone used with Isaacs. Jerry
rushed in on him suddenly, his eyes blazing.</p>

<p>“Gringo Pete is a spy!” he snarled, dancing around
his brother in grotesque wrath and excitement; “he’s a
spy, I tell you, Lige! He came here to find out something,
and he crawled into the fireplace and overheard all
that passed between us and Isaacs!”</p>

<p>Lige Benner’s wrath was rising in a way that matched
Jerry’s.</p>

<p>“What’s Gringo Pete’s object?” he asked, trying to
keep his head clear and get at all the angles of the
situation.</p>

<p>“His object, Lige, was to find out what we’re going to
do,” declared Jerry.</p>

<p>“Of course; but why?”</p>

<p>“Why? Oh, use your brains, Lige, if you’ve got any!”</p>

<p>“He hates Buffalo Bill as much as I do. Even if he
did find out anything&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Idiot! Don’t be a fool! Lige, can’t you see that
Gringo Pete’s yarn may have been faked up? Why,
Lige, that tramp of the plains may have been sent here
by the scout himself&mdash;sent here to keep track of what
we’re doing! And look what he’s found out, Lige! He’s
learned all about the game we’re planning to play on
Dunbar, and Red Steve’s giving him the facts about that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>
other scheme the White Caps are mixed up in! If
Gringo Pete gets away from us, we lose out. Can’t you
see that, Lige?”</p>

<p>The wrath and apprehension of the hunchback was
something terrible to witness. He hopped around the
room like a huge toad, talking to himself and throwing
his long arms all around him.</p>

<p>Suddenly Lige grabbed his brother and shook him.</p>

<p>“Pass up that foolishness, Jerry!” he ordered. “If
Gringo Pete is a spy, we’ll capture him and keep him
right here. The game at Hackamore will go on. I’m
willing to bet against long odds that the game wins out.
Get ready to go to Hackamore. I’ll see that Gringo
Pete is taken care of.”</p>

<p>“Go on, Lige, go on!” breathed the hunchback, waving
a skinny hand toward the door. “Hurry, Lige,
hurry&mdash;or you’ll be too late.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner ran out of the house and down the slope
toward the small grove at the edge of the river. From
the open door the hunchback watched him.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.<br />
<span class="fs70">A “FLASH IN THE PAN.”</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Wild Bill Hickok was due for a “flash in the pan”&mdash;something
very unusual with him.</p>

<p>As he followed Red Steve down the hill, the Laramie
man was congratulating himself on the fact that he was
to meet the other White Caps in the same grove where
his horse had been secured and the riding gear left. He
was casting about in his mind for some excuse that
would enable him to get the trappings on Beeswax and
fare away, all without exciting the suspicions of Red
Steve and the other four men in his detachment.</p>

<p>Wild Bill was also thinking that he would like to learn
more of the plot against Buffalo Bill and Perry, but he
did not want to delay his departure too long and so run
the risk of not being able to get away at all.</p>

<p>“That thar Jerry feller is as savage as a Feejee,” said
Wild Bill to Red Steve, when they were close to the
grove.</p>

<p>“He’s ther brains o’ this hyer ranch when thar’s any
schemin’ goin’ on,” returned Red Steve. “It was him as
hatched up this hyer plot about the stakes an’ the stampede.
That’s purty vi’lent, but when ye’re dealin’ with
fellers like Buffler Bill an’ Perry, no halfway measures
ain’t a-goin’ ter pass muster.”</p>

<p>“I reckon that’s so! Whar is this hyer Crowder’s
corral?”</p>

<p>“Between this ranch an’ the Star-A. Thar’s them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>
boys o’ mine,” Red Steve added, pointing. “They’re
sizin’ up that ’ar hoss o’ yourn.”</p>

<p>The two men entered the grove and came front to
front with four men whose faces were as villainous as
that of Red Steve. They were looking Beeswax over
with critical eyes.</p>

<p>The horse was picketed, and the saddle, bridle and
blanket were hanging from the limb of a nearby tree.</p>

<p>“Purty good hoss, that,” remarked Wild Bill.</p>

<p>Four pairs of eyes turned on him suspiciously.</p>

<p>“Who the blazes aire you?” asked one of the quartette.</p>

<p>“He’s got a clean bill, pards,” spoke up Red Steve. “I
know his looks is ag’in him, but he’s all right in spite o’
his looks. He suits Jerry an’ Lige, so he’s got ter suit
us. He’s ter be one o’ the White Caps. Gringo Pete,
that feller’s Shorty Dobbs; the one behind him is Ace
Hawkins; the one back o’ Ace is Splinters Gibson; an’
t’other ’un is Weasel Skinner. We all got ter be friends,
fellers. Don’t act measly to’rds yer new pard.”</p>

<p>The four ruffians tried hard to show their friendship.</p>

<p>“Ye got er blame’ good hoss,” remarked Shorty Dobbs,
with an up-and-down look over Wild Bill and a more or
less admiring glance in the direction of Beeswax.</p>

<p>“He’s second ter but one hoss on the Brazos,” declared
Wild Bill proudly, “an’ that one hoss is Buffler
Bill’s Bear Paw.”</p>

<p>“I know this hoss,” said Weasel Skinner. “The last
time I seed this hoss, Wild Bill Hickok was a-ridin’
him.”</p>

<p>The Laramie man chuckled.</p>

<p>“The hoss belonged ter Wild Bill afore I took him,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>
said he. “That ole Laramie fossil won’t never see Beeswax
no more. The animile is mine, now.”</p>

<p>“Hickok’ll git his hoss back if he has ter take yer
h’ar ter do it,” asserted Splinters Gibson.</p>

<p>“No feller o’ Hickok’s size’ll ever git my skelp,”
bragged Wild Bill, taking a tremendous pleasure in this
turn of the talk. “I kin show Hickok the way I wear
my back h’ar any day ye kin find in the almanac.”</p>

<p>“Ye got gas enough fer a b’loon ascension,” grunted
Ace Hawkins, “an’ mebby that’s all thar is to ye.”</p>

<p>“Mebby,” agreed Wild Bill, “an’ mebby ye ain’t got
as much sense as what the law allows.”</p>

<p>“I got sand if I ain’t got sense,” flared Ace Hawkins,
“an’ if ye say the word, I’ll knock yer spine up through
the top o’ yer head till it sticks out like a flagpole.
I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Hush!” cried Red Steve. “Consarn it, kain’t ye ack
like gents an’ pards? Don’t ye try h’istin’ any flagpoles
like that, Ace, er ye’ll hear from me right quick. This
here’s our new pard, an’ here ye go treatin’ him like a
hired man. Us fellers has got ter all hang tergether.”</p>

<p>“Er we’ll hang another way if we don’t,” spoke up
Shorty Dobbs with a shake of his bullet-like head.</p>

<p>Out of the tails of his eyes, Wild Bill had caught a
look at the top of the hill through the trees. He saw
Lige Benner running through the door of the adobe
house, and Jerry Benner standing in the doorway and
watching him.</p>

<p>Something was wrong. Wild Bill didn’t know what it
was but thought he’d take time by the forelock and get
clear.</p>

<p>“That Beeswax hoss is shore the slickest animile fer
tricks ye ever seen,” said Wild Bill.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p>

<p>He was in a hurry, but it would never have done to
let Red Steve and his men see it.</p>

<p>“What tricks kin he do?” asked Splinters Gibson.</p>

<p>“Waal, he kin lay down an’ roll over with me on his
back,” averred the Laramie man gravely, “an’ without
never hurtin’ me none.”</p>

<p>“I got money as says he kain’t,” growled Ace Hawkins.</p>

<p>“I don’t want yer money,” said Wild Bill, “but I’ll
show ye.”</p>

<p>He pulled up the picket pin&mdash;there was no time to get
saddle and bridle on Beeswax&mdash;and made a hackamore of
the picket rope.</p>

<p>“Stop that man!” came a voice from near the foot of
the hill.</p>

<p>Wild Bill understood the words, and they certified
to Lige Benner’s hostile intentions toward him. But
the shouted order was not so clearly understood by
Red Steve and his men.</p>

<p>“Who was that a-yellin’?” demanded Red Steve.</p>

<p>“Sounded like Lige’s voice,” answered Shorty Dobbs.</p>

<p>“Now, ye watch!” bellowed Wild Bill, at the top of
his voice, hoping to drown out any more noise Lige Benner
might make.</p>

<p>As he spoke, he jumped to the back of the horse. If
he could get away with the hackamore, and minus his
riding gear, Wild Bill was going to be entirely satisfied.
Kicking his heels into Beeswax’s ribs, he started through
the timber in the direction of the trail to the Star-A.</p>

<p>“Hyer!” roared the voice of Shorty Dobbs; “make ’im
lay down an’ roll over!”</p>

<p>“Got ter git ter clear ground afore I kin do that,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>
shouted Wild Bill, turning in his saddle. “Trail erlong,
amigos!”</p>

<p>Red Steve and his four White Caps might have started
after Wild Bill, still in the hope that he would make
Beeswax “lie down and roll over” had not Lige Benner,
at that moment, come tearing in among them.</p>

<p>“He’s a spy!” bawled Benner; “Gringo Pete is a spy!
He’s trying to get away!”</p>

<p>The last word died in a fusillade of revolvers. Red
Steve, his four men and Lige Benner had each drawn
a six-shooter and sent their leaden respects after Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>The Laramie man felt that he was safe. What horse
was there at the Circle-B that could overhaul old Beeswax?</p>

<p>In that supreme moment, gloating over what he had
accomplished, the Laramie man must needs turn, shake
his fist and taunt those behind on their poor marksmanship.</p>

<p>“Yah! You men couldn’t hit the side of a barn!
By-by!”</p>

<p>While Wild Bill was looking behind, something mighty
important was happening in front. As he turned around
to keep Beeswax in the right course, the Laramie man
was made unpleasantly aware of the change in the situation.</p>

<p>Four of the Circle-B cowboys were riding in from the
range. These four were directly in front of Wild Bill,
and not more than twenty feet distant. They had heard
Wild Bill’s shout, and their attention had already been
attracted by the discharge of revolvers. When the
whoops and yells of Lige Benner, Red Steve and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>
rest reached their ears, they spread out and prepared
to blockade the racing fugitive.</p>

<p>“Keep clear!” shouted Wild Bill.</p>

<p>He made a fierce attempt to get at his revolvers. They
were under his ragged disguise, and he had been under
the impression that they were placed where they could
be conveniently drawn.</p>

<p>But in this he was mistaken. Some part of his costume
got between his itching fingers and the hand
grips of his guns.</p>

<p>In a flash he realized that his weapons were not to
serve him. He had the coil of rope and the picket
pin in front of him, and he grabbed up the pin and
hurled it with all his force.</p>

<p>One of the blockading cowboys was ready to fire his
revolver. Before the trigger could be pulled, the sharp
point of the pin had struck his arm. He gave a yell of
rage and pain, and his weapon dropped from his nerveless
fingers.</p>

<p>“Stop!” cried another of the cowpunchers; “stop or
I’ll bore ye!”</p>

<p>Wild Bill leaned far from his horse’s back and struck
out with his fist.</p>

<p>The cowboy who had voiced the threat, slewed backward
in his saddle, so wrapped up in his own pressing
complaints that he had no time to give further attention
to the Laramie man.</p>

<p>Once more Wild Bill was beginning to congratulate
himself. Two of the four cowboys were out of the running;
if he could dodge the other two, the trail to the
Star-A would be clear before him.</p>

<p>But right here the picket rope and pin, which had
served Wild Bill so well, now proved his undoing.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p>

<p>The rope, weighted by the pin, was cutting all sorts of
capers around Beeswax’s flying heels. As hard luck
would have it, chance threw the rope into a loop, and
the loop caught the horse’s front feet.</p>

<p>Down went Beeswax&mdash;and he really did roll over. But
Wild Bill was not on the horse’s back. The Laramie
man had been hurled a dozen feet onward.</p>

<p>When he dropped, he came down all of a heap; and
before he could collect his scattered wits, two cowboys
were on him, and Lige Benner, Red Steve, and many
more were rushing at top speed for the scene to lend
their assistance.</p>

<p>Wild Bill was caught!</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.<br />
<span class="fs70">HELD BY THE ENEMY.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Wild Bill was a terribly surprised man. He didn’t
mind the jolt of his fall, nor the roughness with which
the cattlemen treated him, but the blow to his confidence
was a hard thing for him to get over.</p>

<p>He fought as long as he could, and only ceased his
struggles when ropes made it impossible for him to
move.</p>

<p>The set-to had disarranged his entire make-up, and had
even caused him to lose a portion of it. Under the
ragged garments he wore his usual costume, and the
amazement of Lige Benner was great when he discovered
that his prisoner was no less a person than Wild
Bill himself.</p>

<p>“You came here in disguise to spy on me, did you,
Wild Bill?” scowled Lige Benner, looking down on
his captive and wondering what he should do with him.</p>

<p>“I came here to find out what I could about your
criminal doings,” answered Wild Bill, “and it’s dollars
to chalk marks that I’ve seen and heard enough to put
a rope around your neck. A nice sort of respectable cattle
baron you are!”</p>

<p>“He’s too blame’ mouthy!” growled Red Steve. “The
thing ter do with him is ter put him whar he kain’t
bother us.”</p>

<p>“I’ll do that,” returned Benner.</p>

<p>“How’s my horse?” asked the Laramie man.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span></p>

<p>“Nothin’ wrong with the caballo,” said one of the
cowboys.</p>

<p>“Take good care of him. I told you, Hawkins,” Wild
Bill went on to the White Cap, “that Beeswax could lay
down and roll over with me.”</p>

<p>“He done it, all right,” returned Hawkins, with a
sputter of profanity. “But I reckon it was a put-up
job, an’ that ye didn’t calculate ter have it that-a-way.”
He turned to Lige Benner and Red Steve. “Say, you
fellers goin’ ter let Wild Bill keep his hair arter the
way he’s fooled us? Why, he knows enough ter make
us all a mighty sick lot, I can tell ye.”</p>

<p>“I’ll take care of Wild Bill,” said Benner shortly.
“Carry him up to the cabin.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill was lifted by four men and toted up the
hill to the adobe house. He saw Jerry on a horse in
front of the cabin as he was carried toward the door.</p>

<p>“You kept him from getting away, eh, Lige?” chirruped
the hunchback. “That’s good, mighty good! Keep
a tight hold on him, Lige. When I get back, some time
to-night, I want to see that fellow here.”</p>

<p>“You’ll see him here, Jerry, and don’t you forget that,”
answered Benner.</p>

<p>Jerry, with a look of malicious triumph at Wild Bill,
whirled his horse and started toward the trail for Hackamore.
The prisoner was carried on through the living
room of the house and dropped on the bed in the rear
chamber. Benner drove everybody out but Red Steve,
then drew up a chair to the head of the bed and sat
down.</p>

<p>“Why did you do this, Hickok?” he asked, with a
black scowl.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span></p>

<p>“You know why I did it,” was the reply. “What’s the
use of threshing that all over again?”</p>

<p>“You’ve put me in a hard position.”</p>

<p>“Not half so hard as you’ll be in later, Benner. You
can wipe me off the slate, if you want to, but that’s not
going to help your case any. Buffalo Bill knows I came
here, and if I don’t get back to the Star-A ranch he’ll
know what’s happened to me. You’re going to get
scratched, Benner, no matter which way the cat jumps.”</p>

<p>Benner’s face was a study.</p>

<p>“How much did you find out?” he demanded.</p>

<p>“A heap more than I expected to,” was Wild Bill’s
answer.</p>

<p>“He’s buffaloed us oncet, Lige,” said Red Steve, “an’
don’t let him do it ag’in. His light kin be snuffed so’st
nobody’ll ever know who done it. I’ll take the job.”</p>

<p>“Not yet awhile,” returned Benner. “See that he’s
bound so he can’t slip the ropes, Steve, and then put your
men on guard around the house.”</p>

<p>“I’ll stay right in this hyer room with him, if ye
want,” offered Red Steve.</p>

<p>“That’s not what I want. You can stay at the door
of the living room, and you can put one or two men at
the outside window, but Wild Bill stays in here alone.”</p>

<p>It was evident that Lige Benner hesitated to trust Red
Steve alone with the prisoner. The fiery-haired Texan
would perhaps have taken matters into his own hands,
in spite of Benner’s orders.</p>

<p>“Ye needn’t be afeared I’d sponge him out, Lige,”
leered Red Steve, catching the drift of arrangements.</p>

<p>“If you tried that,” said Benner, “you’d get sponged
out yourself. I’m going to have the country watched,
all around the ranch. If Buffalo Bill, or any of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>
pards, come here looking for Hickok, we’ll have them
before we know what they’re doing.”</p>

<p>“Purvidin’ they’re reckernized,” qualified Red Steve.
“I hadn’t a notion Gringo Pete was Wild Bill&mdash;an’ I
looked Gringo Pete over mighty close, too. Say, he’s
some on playin’ a part, Wild Bill is.”</p>

<p>“You’re a very accomplished man, Wild Bill,” said
Benner, with some sarcasm, “but this time your accomplishments
have loaded you up with more trouble than
you can handle.”</p>

<p>“It looks that way, for a fact,” returned the Laramie
man cheerfully. “Would you mind telling me, Benner,
how you happened to learn I wasn’t what I seemed?”</p>

<p>“Jerry got next to that. Jerry can get next to anything
in the lame-duck line.”</p>

<p>“Which indicates that Jerry also has his accomplishments,”
grinned Wild Bill. “But how did he turn the
trick against me?”</p>

<p>Benner explained that point in a few words. Wild
Bill cast a rueful look in the direction of the fireplace.</p>

<p>“If I hadn’t been a little shy on reasoning myself,” he
muttered, “this wouldn’t have happened, and I’d now
be on the way to the Star-A. Nobody but myself to
blame. Go ahead and do your worst, Benner. After
that, you take my advice and get out from under.”</p>

<p>Benner whirled on his heel, beckoned Red Steve to
follow, and the two men passed out of the room. The
door was closed and the bolt shoved into place.</p>

<p>“Same thing I heard a while ago,” reflected Wild
Bill, “only the case is different. I’ve been more kinds
of a chucklehead this trip than I know how to mention.
Oh, I’m proud of myself! And Pard Cody will be just
as proud when he finds out about it. Here I am, loaded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>
to the guards with information that means liberty and
good name for Dunbar, and perhaps life itself for Perry,
and not able to do a thing to tell what I know. Pleasant
situation! Mighty pleasant&mdash;if you don’t care what you
say.”</p>

<p>The Laramie man was greatly cast down, but he never
allowed chagrin or dejection to cut very deep into his
optimistic nature. He was caught hard and fast in the
clutch of circumstances; yet it was better to face the
gloomy situation with some show of grace, than to
deaden his resources by giving way to despair.</p>

<p>But Wild Bill was sorry for Dunbar and Perry&mdash;sorrier
for them than he was for himself.</p>

<p>The afternoon passed. Wild Bill, his limbs cramped
and numb from the ropes, twisted around on the bed
and fretted for some one to talk to.</p>

<p>He beguiled some of the time by working at his bonds.
They were knotted firmly, but he tried sawing the
hempen strands in two by working the rope up and
down on the side board of the bed.</p>

<p>These tactics might have won out if he had had two
or three days to keep at them, but a few hours grinding
would accomplish little.</p>

<p>When the shadows of evening began to settle down,
the bolt was pushed back, the door opened, and Benner
and Red Steve came in again, the latter bringing the
prisoner’s supper.</p>

<p>Wild Bill’s hands were not unbound. Red Steve
propped him up on the bed and fed him.</p>

<p>“Have you made up your mind what you’re going to
do with me?” inquired the prisoner, when the meal was
finished.</p>

<p>Lige Benner stood gloomily by with folded arms.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span></p>

<p>“You’ll be kept here to-night,” said he. “In the morning
we’ll know how your account is to be settled.”</p>

<p>Red Steve looked at the ropes, reported that the prisoner
had been tampering with them, and tied them in
such a way that the sawing on the side board of the bed
could not be continued.</p>

<p>“You’ll not be able to get away from here, Hickok,”
said Benner. “Even if you got rid of your ropes, you
couldn’t get out; and if you got out, you’d be dropped
in your tracks by a bullet before you’d gone a dozen
yards. You’ll have to make the most of it. You’ve
forced my hand and will have to take the consequences.”</p>

<p>“All right,” answered Wild Bill amiably. “But wait
till this trail’s run out before you do any talking. I’ve
got pards that won’t care a whoop for you and your
Circle-B outfit when they learn what’s happened to me.”</p>

<p>Red Steve picked up the empty dishes, and he and
Benner again left the room.</p>

<p>From then on, while the night steadily deepened, Wild
Bill allowed certain possible events to pass in review.
Already, no doubt, Jerry Benner had worked his plot
against Dunbar. Word of Dunbar’s predicament had
gone to the Star-A ranch, and the scout had started at
once for Hackamore with Perry. On the way to the
town, the White Caps would lay for Buffalo Bill and
Perry.</p>

<p>Wild Bill chuckled as his mind took up that phase of
the question.</p>

<p>“I’d like to be around and see what Pard Cody does
to those White Caps,” he muttered.</p>

<p>The hours passed while he reflected. Stygian darkness
settled down on the bedroom, only a lightish blur marking
the window opening. Wild Bill could hear Red<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>
Steve moving around in the living room, and he could
hear some one outside the window; but he heard something
else&mdash;something that caused him to give over his
reflections and centre his attentions on the peculiar noise.
The sound was like a muffled scraping, and it was coming
steadily nearer. Wild Bill tried to locate it, but the
darkness confused him and he could not.</p>

<p>At last he heard deep breathing, stifled to the merest
rasping whisper, accompanying muffled footfalls. A
form, barely distinguishable, reached the bed. Wild Bill
was about to speak, when a hand dropped over his lips.</p>

<p>“Cork!” whispered a husky voice. “I’m Ace Hawkins,
an’ if ye breathe a word out loud, things’ll go hard
fer the two o’ us. We’ll palaver a spell.”</p>

<p>For a moment the Laramie man was dazed. Ace
Hawkins, one of Red Steve’s White Caps, there in the
room with him! And he had come in stealthily! Why?</p>

<p>Quick as lightning, Wild Bill’s brain solved the problem
in what he conceived the most logical way.</p>

<p>The White Caps were taking the fate of the prisoner
in their own hands. Benner was not desperate enough
to suit them. They would put the prisoner out of the
way without letting Benner know anything about the
proceeding until it was too late for him to interfere.</p>

<p>Wild Bill tried to sink his teeth into the hand that
smothered his lips.</p>

<p>“Quit that, you!” hissed Hawkins. “What fer kind
of way is that ter act? Ain’t I come here ter help ye,
runnin’ all kinds o’ risks? Red Steve is at the door
of the other room, an’ Shorty Dobbs an’ Splinters Gibson
is outside the winder. I was around the side o’ the
house, an’ took my life in my hands, by climbin’ to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>
roof an’ comin’ down the chimbly. I’d be skelped good
an’ proper if Red Steve knowed whar I was.”</p>

<p>Was Wild Bill dreaming all this? Ace Hawkins, who
had seemed to be the most savage of the White Caps,
was sneaking around and running the risk of life itself
in order to do him a good turn. Naturally, the Laramie
man couldn’t believe it.</p>

<p>“That’s a good yarn, Hawkins,” murmured Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“It’s straight,” protested Hawkins.</p>

<p>“I don’t believe such a crooked coyote as you are
could talk straight if he tried.”</p>

<p>“Then ye got an eye-opener comin’ ter you. Ye come
hyer, didn’t ye, bekase the sky pilot sent a warnin’ from
Hackamore?”</p>

<p>“That’s a bull’s-eye hit, anyhow.”</p>

<p>“Did ye hyer how the sky pilot got tipped off ter the
trouble a-brewin’ at the Circle-B?”</p>

<p>“I heard that a friend of his, from the Circle-B outfit,
gave him the news.”</p>

<p>“Which is kerrect. I’m thet thar friend.”</p>

<p>“You? One of Red Steve’s White Caps! Say, Hawkins,
you’re piling it on pretty thick.”</p>

<p>“I ain’t so tough as what ye reckon, Wild Bill. Jordan,
the sky pilot, has showed me the error o’ my ways,
he has, an’ I’m tryin’ ter be white. I useter be bad
enough, but I’m differ’nt now.”</p>

<p>“How are you different? Haven’t you tangled up
with Red Steve’s White Caps? Is that the way you’re
trying to be ‘white?’ Don’t take any more falls out of
the truth, Hawkins. If you’re here to do me up, go
ahead.”</p>

<p>A muffled exclamation broke from Hawkins’ lips.</p>

<p>“I j’ined the White Caps so’st I could keep track of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>
’em an’ of Red Steve,” he averred. “I wanted ter git a
chanst ter back-cap ’em, same as what I’m doin’ now.
I’m ready ter prove it, Wild Bill. Wait!”</p>

<p>Again Hawkins bent over Wild Bill. The prisoner
felt the cowboy’s groping hands at his wrists, and then
cold, sharp steel bit at the hempen strands.</p>

<p>Wild Bill, his wonder growing, pulled his arms in front
of him. While he was rubbing his hands to restore circulation,
Hawkins was using the knife at his ankles.</p>

<p>“Now,” whispered Hawkins, “ye’re free. Does that
prove anythin’? Am I straight goods, er ain’t I?”</p>

<p>“You seem to be all right,” returned Wild Bill, sitting
up on the edge of the bed, “but this may all be a play to
help Red Steve get the best of me.”</p>

<p>“Hyer!”</p>

<p>Hawkins pressed something into Wild Bill’s hands.
They were a couple of six-shooters.</p>

<p>“Them’s yourn,” went on Hawkins. “Red Steve give
’em ter me ter take keer of, when ye was landed on at
the foot o’ the hill. Yer hoss is in the grove whar he
was left that other time. I’ve got the saddle an’ bridle
on him. All ye got ter do, Wild Bill, is ter crawl up
the chimbly, git ter the ground same as I come up, go
down the hill an’ git inter the saddle. I’ll go with ye,
an’ we’ll talk further. Yore move is ter git back ter the
Star-A an’ tell Buffler Bill what ye know. Ye ort ter
hev made that move afore, but thar wasn’t no way I
could help pull it off till now.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill had been pleasantly disappointed. He had
thought Hawkins was a foe, and here he was turning
out to be a friend. The Laramie man reached out gropingly
in the dark.</p>

<p>“Where’s your fist, Hawkins?” he murmured.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span></p>

<p>“Hyer.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill shook the hand.</p>

<p>“You’re a whole man, Hawkins,” went on Wild Bill.
“I’d never have believed this of you if I hadn’t gone
through it personally.”</p>

<p>“Ye needn’t thank me,” said Hawkins deprecatingly.
“Thank the sky pilot. If it hadn’t been fer him, I’d be
here clamorin’ fer yer skelp. The sky pilot advised me
ter hang on with Steve an’ Benner, playin’ a double part
an’ watchin’ my chance ter do a good turn fer right an’
jestice. But we kain’t stand hyer palaverin’. It ain’t
safe. Any minit Red Steve may come in, an’ the fat
’u’d be in the fire. Ye’ve been in that chimbly oncet,
an’ hyer’s whar ye foller me up ag’in. Come on, an’
come quiet.”</p>

<p>Hawkins guided Wild Bill across the room to the fireplace;
then, getting inside, the two men mounted up and
up, planting their feet on the projecting stones and wedging
themselves in the flue with their arms and elbows.</p>

<p>Great care had to be exercised in order not to alarm
Red Steve. The Laramie man had not forgotten that
the two flues constituted a whispering gallery, and that
unusual noises in the chimney would reach the ears of
any one in the living room.</p>

<p>But Red Steve may have been half dozing. At any
rate, he heard nothing and was not aroused.</p>

<p>Hawkins was first to climb over the top of the big
chimney. As Wild Bill followed him, they could hear
Shorty Dobbs and Splinters Gibson talking below, near
the window at the end of the adobe house.</p>

<p>“So fur, so good,” whispered Hawkins, “but we ain’t
out o’ the woods yit. We’ll have ter hang ter the aidge
o’ the roof an’ drap. I’ll drap fust, then you foller.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span></p>

<p>Like a shadow, Hawkins lowered himself from the
roof’s edge and let go. A slight thump came back to
Wild Bill.</p>

<p>It was not a long drop&mdash;the house was only a one-story
affair&mdash;but there was a chance to sprain an ankle,
for all that.</p>

<p>Wild Bill slipped carefully from the edge of the roof,
hung a moment, and then loosened his fingers. His foot
struck on a stone, and he fell with quite a scramble.
There was a stir around the corner, and a dark form
showed itself.</p>

<p>Hawkins pressed Wild Bill down on the ground with
a quick hand.</p>

<p>“What ther nation is goin’ on, Ace?” called a voice.</p>

<p>“Nawthin’,” answered Hawkins. “I jest fell asleep
standin’ up, an’ tumbled over.”</p>

<p>“Waal, keep yer eyes open. Splinters says we’re goin’
ter ride ter the Star-A purty soon.”</p>

<p>The form disappeared, and Ace Hawkins drew a long
breath of relief.</p>

<p>“Now fer down hill,” he murmured, “an’ the quicker
we skin out, the better.”</p>

<p>With Hawkins leading, the two moved noiselessly
down the slope, in the direction of the river and the little
grove of trees.</p>

<p>“Hyer we aire, all serene,” said Hawkins, “an’ yore
hoss is right ferninst ye, Wild Bill.”</p>

<p>“I can see him,” answered the Laramie man. “I’ll
not be bagged again, Hawkins.”</p>

<p>“Lige Benner has got watchers out, all around the
camp. Ye’ll hev ter git clear without causin’ any ruction,
if possible, an’ I’d suggest that ye ride in the water,
a little off the bank. The Brazos ain’t bein’ watched<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>
so much as the trails. Mebby ye’ll git away without
trouble. I’m hopin’ so, anyways.”</p>

<p>“What’re you goin’ to do, Hawkins?”</p>

<p>“I’m stayin’ with the White Caps. That’s what the
sky pilot said fer me ter do.”</p>

<p>“But when they find out that I’ve got away, more
than likely you’ll be suspected.”</p>

<p>“I don’t reckon so.”</p>

<p>“Your safest move is to come with me.”</p>

<p>“I’m goin’ ter stay on, with the White Caps an’ try
ter pervent them kerryin’ out any deviltry. Thar’s a lot
o’ it on the programme, as I reckon ye know.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill passed to his horse, unhitched the animal and
got into the saddle.</p>

<p>“Don’t let the brute lay down an’ roll over with ye,”
said Ace Hawkins humorously.</p>

<p>“Nary, pard,” chuckled Wild Bill; “nor I won’t walk
lame or play dead for Benner and his gang any more.
But I’d sure like to do something to get even with you
for this night’s work.”</p>

<p>“What I’m doin’ I’m doin’ on account o’ the sky pilot.
He’s a friend o’ Perry’s.”</p>

<p>“All right, Hawkins, let it go at that. Has that hunchback
returned from Hackamore yet?”</p>

<p>“I reckon not.”</p>

<p>“You think the White Caps are going to make a move
against Perry and Buffalo Bill?”</p>

<p>“They’ll move ag’in Perry. Prob’ly some un has come
in with news, an’ that’s why the White Caps aire gittin’
ready ter move. What the news is I don’t know. But
you hustle ter tell Buffler Bill what ye know. Thar’s
been sich a delay gittin’ you loose that the scout’ll have
to make his play ag’in long odds; but, like as not, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>
quick move fer Perry an’ Dunbar’ll put ’em right. If I
kin&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>At that moment a call for Hawkins came from up the
hill.</p>

<p>“The White Caps is waitin’ fer me,” added Hawkins
hastily. “Ride the river fer a mile, then take ter the
trail. Adios!”</p>

<p>With an answer to the call from above on his lips,
Ace Hawkins hurried out of the grove.</p>

<p>Wild Bill waited for nothing further but spurred to
the river’s edge and into the water; then, turning Beeswax
in the direction of the Star-A he proceeded cautiously
to pass the guards posted by Benner.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE PLOT AT HACKAMORE.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Nate Dunbar’s first inquiry, after he had put up his
horse in the Hackamore corral and dropped in at the
Delmonico Hotel, was for a jewelry peddler.</p>

<p>“There was one here,” said the hotel clerk, “but one
o’ Benner’s men come in arter him an’ he’s gone ter
the Circle-B. He’ll be back, I reckon, as soon’s he unloads
some o’ his stuff on Lige Benner.”</p>

<p>It was after twelve o’clock, and Dunbar scoured the
dust from his face and hands and went into the dining
room for his dinner.</p>

<p>The first thing he wanted to buy was a ring with a
genuine “spark” for Hattie. But he’d have to postpone
that and go hunting for cowboys and ranch supplies.</p>

<p>At the general store where he got the goods for the
ranch he heard of two or three experienced men who
were out of a job. He found them in a saloon, and
hired two of the men on the spot. The third of the
trio was a fellow whose looks wouldn’t pass muster.</p>

<p>The troubles of Perry and Dunbar were well known
all up and down the Brazos. A few days before, public
opinion had been solidly against them; but now, thanks
to the energy of Buffalo Bill and his pards, public opinion
had undergone a change.</p>

<p>Everywhere he went Dunbar was greeted cordially.</p>

<p>“Always knew you an’ Dick Perry would come out
on top,” ran the general theme of talk.</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar smiled grimly. He knew that nearly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>
every one in Hackamore was under the thumb of the
cattle barons, and that the spectacular work of the scout
and his pards, alone, had faced every cattle baron but
Lige Benner the other way around. It wasn’t for himself
that the people of Hackamore showed so much
sympathetic interest in him and Perry and their fortunes,
but because of the potent influence of the king of scouts
and his compadres.</p>

<p>If was three o’clock in the afternoon when Dunbar
saw Abraham Isaacs riding into Hackamore. Instantly
the young rancher bethought himself of the diamond ring
which he had set his heart on buying for his wife.</p>

<p>He was at the hotel as soon as the Jew got there.</p>

<p>“Got any nice stones set in a ring, Uncle?” asked
Nate. “If you have, I reckon you and I can do business.”</p>

<p>Isaacs peered at him from under his bushy brows.</p>

<p>“Who you was, young chentleman?” he asked.</p>

<p>“Dunbar, of the Star-A ranch,” was the answer.</p>

<p>A flicker ran through the Jew’s eyes, and he trembled
a little as he shifted his battered satchel from one hand
to the other.</p>

<p>“Ach, mein friendt,” said he, “I haf got some of der
finest shtones in rings vat efer you see, yah, so. You got
der money to buy, I got der rings to sell. Vat you
like?”</p>

<p>“Come off some place where we can be by ourselves,”
answered Nate. “I don’t like to buy finery with so many
folks lookin’ on.”</p>

<p>The clerk offered them the use of a room, and they
were soon in chairs, looking over the peddler’s stock.</p>

<p>“What I want,” said Dunbar, “is the real, gen-u-ine
thing in stones. This ring’s to be for Mrs. Dunbar, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>
she hasn’t her equal among womenkind in all Texas. I
want something that’s up to the mark, or it don’t go;
and, what’s more, I haven’t a mint of money to squander,
either.”</p>

<p>“Vat you like to pay?”</p>

<p>The Jew was studying the handsome face of the young
man, studying it compassionately. If it wasn’t for the
gain to be had from Benner, Isaacs would never have
taken part in the contemptible plot hatched by Jerry. But
money was the Jew’s life blood. His compassion was
strong, but his love for money was stronger.</p>

<p>“A hundred pesos is the extent of my pile,” said Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Act, Himmel! Vat you expect to get for a hundert
tollars? It vill be shmall, mein friendt. Tiamonts iss
vort’ mooch money. A hundert-toller bigness in a tiamont
iss shmall.”</p>

<p>“Well, anyways, a hundred-dollar bigness is all I can
stand for,” returned Dunbar regretfully. “Next time you
come around, Isaacs, maybe I’ll be in better case so that
we can dicker for a watch. How much is this?”</p>

<p>He picked up a ring and held it where the slanting rays
of the sun entered a window and struck a rainbow of
color from the single stone.</p>

<p>“A hundert und feefty toller, Misder Dunbar,” replied
the Jew, “but I geave him to you for one hundert
toller. You look like a fine poy, und I haf got tender
feelings for fine poys. Ven you puy der vatch, den I
make it oop vat I lose on der ring. Hein?”</p>

<p>“I’ve bought something, uncle. Put the ring in a
box and I’ll stow it away.”</p>

<p>The ring was put in a case, and the money changed
hands. Dunbar, whistling blithely, left the room. Isaacs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>
looked after him, shook his head forebodingly, and
began replacing his jewelry in the satchel.</p>

<p>While he was about it, a tapping came on the window
of the room. He looked up and saw Jerry Benner peering
in at him through the glass. A shiver ran through
the humped form of Isaacs. Here was where the plot
was to begin!</p>

<p>Jerry motioned with his hand that Isaacs was to lift
the window sash. The Jew obeyed, and the crooked
form of the hunchback floundered into the room.</p>

<p>“He’s bought his ring, has he, Abe?” asked Jerry.</p>

<p>“Yah, so,” murmured the Jew, “he has bought der
ring.”</p>

<p>“Well, you get those paste stones in a hurry and
bring them to me. Hurry, Abe. He left his saddle and
saddlebags at the corral. It’s a good chance, Abe, for
me to do what I’m planning.”</p>

<p>“Ach, Cherry,” said Isaacs, clutching his hands, “he
looks like a goot poy.”</p>

<p>“Never you mind about that, Abe,” snapped Jerry.
“If you want to collect the rest of what’s coming from
Lige, get you those bogus stones. Hustle! Sim Pierce
is talking with Dunbar, and Dunbar may leave for home
before he intended. Hurry up, Abe.”</p>

<p>With a stifled groan, the harassed Jew turned and left
the room, taking his precious satchel with him. He returned
in a few moments with the false stones, and the
designing Jerry got through the window with them and
moved in the direction of the corral.</p>

<p>Sim Pierce was the first man Dunbar saw when he
stepped through the door of the hotel, the present for
Hattie in his pocket.</p>

<p>“Hello, Nate!” called Sim. “I was out ter the Star-A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>
an’ had dinner. Buffler Bill told me you was in town.
Have ye seen the sky pilot yit?”</p>

<p>“Is Jordan in town, Sim?” queried Nate, surprised.</p>

<p>“He was some tired an’ out o’ sorts, an’ he allowed
he’d go ter bed fer a day. He’s at the Delmonico, but
I reckon he’s snoozin’, an’ makin’ up fer the sleep he
lost when he tied that knot on hossback.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce chuckled and nudged Dunbar in the ribs.
The cowboy grinned responsively.</p>

<p>“Whyever did you make such a quick trip to the
ranch, Sim?” Nate asked.</p>

<p>Sim drew Nate off toward the hitching pole in front
of the hotel, looked carefully around, and told the young
rancher what he had already told Buffalo Bill and Wild
Bill. Dunbar at once began to worry.</p>

<p>“I’m going to let the rest of my work here in town
wait,” said he, “and I’m going back to the ranch. If
any trouble happens, I want to be there.”</p>

<p>“I reckoned you’d feel that-er-way, Nate,” returned
Sim, “but afore ye go, I’d advise ye ter palaver with
Jordan. If he knowed ye was in town he’d be anxious
ter see ye.”</p>

<p>Dunbar ran back into the hotel and inquired his way
to the sky pilot’s room. He was with Jordan no more
than fifteen minutes, and when he left him he hurriedly
settled his bill, saddled and bridled his horse and started
at speed for the Star-A.</p>

<p>All this was circumstantial evidence against Nate. He
had told the clerk that he expected to remain in Hackamore
two days, but here he was leaving in haste before
he had been in town much more than four hours.</p>

<p>Nate had hardly hit the trail before Abraham Isaacs<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>
began to stir up the whole hotel with the howling announcement
that he had been robbed.</p>

<p>As ill luck would have it, Bloom, the sheriff, happened
to be in the hotel office at the time. He took Isaacs in
hand, questioned him, and the clerk cut into the talk to
tell about Dunbar’s hurried flight for the Brazos.</p>

<p>“He’s the man!” declared Bloom, with a snap of his
lean jaws. “You, an’ you, an’ you,” he turned to indicate
three cowboys who were in the office, “will come
with me. You can’t refuse the law when you’re called
upon. We’re a ‘possey come-and-git-us,’ and we’ve got
to overhaul Dunbar and see if he’s got the stolen goods.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce, strolling toward the hotel from down the
street, saw the sheriff and the four cowboys hustling off
along the trail. He knew, from the way they rode, that
there was something up.</p>

<p>In the office the clerk told him about the robbery of
Isaacs, and about Dunbar being suspected.</p>

<p>“It ain’t so!” bellowed Sim Pierce. “That ’er boy is
as squar’ a piece o’ furniture as ever come out o’ the
fact’ry. I tell ye I won’t b’leeve it.”</p>

<p>“You’re not the only one who won’t believe it, Sim,”
came a quiet voice behind Pierce, and he turned to meet
the indignant, boyish face of Jordan, the sky pilot. “We’ll
wait till Bloom and his posse get back, though, before
we express ourselves too strongly. I’ve a notion”&mdash;he
dropped his voice to a whisper&mdash;“that this may be a
part of Lige Benner’s plot. We’ll see, Sim, we’ll see.”</p>

<p>It was two hours later that the “possey come-and-git-us”
loped back to town. They brought Nate Dunbar
with them, and Nate’s hands were in manacles.</p>

<p>They had found the missing diamonds in his saddlebags.
Nate didn’t know how they had got there, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>
he did know that the first he saw of them was when the
sheriff pulled them out of the bags.</p>

<p>Although burning with indignation, Jordan, the sky
pilot, kept in the background.</p>

<p>“Sim,” said he to Pierce, “get a fresh horse and ride
for the Star-A ranch as fast as you can go. Don’t tell
Hattie anything about this, but tell Buffalo Bill and his
pards. I’ll do nothing here until I can have a talk with
the scout. He’s the one to handle this, and the only
one!”</p>

<p>So, while Sim Pierce raced through the night, and
Jerry Benner rode slowly and exultantly in the direction
of the Circle-B ranch, Nate Dunbar sat helpless in the
shanty which served for the Hackamore jail. The young
rancher was so dazed by recent events that he could
not think.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
<span class="fs70">BUFFALO BILL’S SUMMONS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Sim Pierce had left the Star-A ranch, on the occasion
of his first visit, immediately after dinner. While Mrs.
Dunbar, happy as a lark, was clearing away the dishes
and singing about her work, the scout and Dick Perry
sat in front of the cabin.</p>

<p>Perry was an educated man&mdash;altogether of too fine a
grain, the scout thought, to be “pioneering it” in the cattle
country.</p>

<p>“Thanks to you and your pards, Buffalo Bill,” said
Perry, “the worst of the Star-A troubles are over. Hear
that girl singing away in the kitchen!” An affectionate
smile crept over Perry’s face as he listened. “Just to
be near happiness like hers, fills me with the joy of life
and living.”</p>

<p>The scout nodded.</p>

<p>“You have a whole lot to be glad about, Perry,” said
he.</p>

<p>“If anybody continues to stir up trouble on the Brazos,
amigo, it will be the Benners.”</p>

<p>“Is there more than one Benner, then?”</p>

<p>“Haven’t you heard about Lige’s hunchback brother,
Jerry?”</p>

<p>“Come to think of it, I believe I did hear something
about a hunchback.”</p>

<p>“Jerry,” went on the rancher, “is a regular demon. He
hasn’t any more heart in him than a stone, and his wits
are as keen as a razor. Jerry is twice as sharp as Lige
and twice as savage.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span></p>

<p>The scout laughed.</p>

<p>“I thought Lige was savage enough,” he remarked,
“but if Jerry is any worse, I’d like to see him, just
out of curiosity.”</p>

<p>“Jerry’s a schemer,” pursued Perry, “and I’ve heard
it said that Lige is half afraid of him.”</p>

<p>“Lige is a good deal of a coward. Any man who favors
snake-in-the-grass methods in preference to a stand
in the open, is a coward&mdash;and a knave, as well.” The
scout got up from his chair. “I’m going over to the
hammock, Perry,” said he, “and take a siesta.”</p>

<p>“When will Wild Bill be back?” asked Perry, as the
scout moved off.</p>

<p>“Some time to-night.”</p>

<p>“And the baron, Nomad and Cayuse?”</p>

<p>“I’m not expecting them until they get here.”</p>

<p>The scout reached the canvas hammock, swung under
a tree near the place where he and Wild Bill had had
their talk earlier in the day, and stretched himself out
comfortably.</p>

<p>The Laramie man was a great deal in his mind. How
was he making it at the Circle-B ranch? Somehow, what
Perry had had to say about Jerry Benner had increased
the scout’s worry on Wild Bill’s account.</p>

<p>If Jerry was so much sharper than his brother, it
might be that Wild Bill would stand in a good deal of
danger from him.</p>

<p>The scout’s worries did not bother him long. Lulled
by the peaceful quiet of his surroundings, he fell asleep.
Several hours later he was awakened by some one moving
round the hammock. He opened his eyes to find old
Nomad, the baron and Little Cayuse clustered about him.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span></p>

<p>“Buenos, pards!” laughed the scout, sitting up in the
hammock. “I thought you were going to stay all night
at Dinkelmann’s?”</p>

<p>“Dere don’d vas anypody ad home,” answered the
baron, “neider Fritz nor Katrina. Ve hang aroundt a
vile, und den ve come pack.”</p>

<p>“Nothin’ doin’,” rumbled the old trapper. “Waugh!
I never see sich er quiet time. I ain’t reached a p’int
yit whar I like ter fool erway my time hossback ridin’.
Thet’s all thet happened on this ride ter the Dutchman’s.
I was er hopin’ some o’ them measley cowpunchers would
try ter ride circles around us, jest ter give us a chanst
ter cop out a leetle excitement. But nary nothin’ happened.
Whar’s Wild Bill?”</p>

<p>Gathering his pards closely around him, the scout told
of the warning of impending trouble that had been sent
to the ranch by the sky pilot.</p>

<p>Old Nomad began to mutter wrathfully.</p>

<p>“Shore, oh, shore,” he snorted, “somethin’ ’u’d sartingly
git started ther minit I pulled out. An’ Wild Bill’s
gone ter put ther leetle Hickok kybosh on ther rantankerous
doin’s, hey? Whyever did you stay behind,
pard?”</p>

<p>The scout explained that Wild Bill had gone to the
Circle-B ranch in disguise, and that he hoped to find out
what the trouble was to be, in case the sky pilot had not
been wrongly informed.</p>

<p>“Sufferin’ catermounts!” mourned the old trapper.
“An’ all this hyer happens while I’m chasin’ up Dutchmen
with ther baron. Cayuse, ain’t ye plumb mad at
yerself fer bein’ sidetracked when thar was somethin’
excitin’ goin’ on?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span></p>

<p>Little Cayuse had never very much to say on any
subject. He merely grunted in answer to the trapper’s
query.</p>

<p>The baron looked very much distressed.</p>

<p>“I peen so sorry as plazes,” said he, “dot I vasn’t
here meinseluf when Vild Pill vent avay. Meppy he
vould haf took me mit him. I peen some fine fellers in
a disguise!”</p>

<p>“Hyer thet!” whooped the trapper. “Et don’t make
no diff’rence how the baron’s got up, the lingo he uses
is a dead give-away on him. Wild Bill, I reckon, kin
kerry ther game through. I’m hopin’ he runs inter
somethin’ lively&mdash;an’ thet he passes et eround. Ranchin’
et is purty tame bizness, seems ter me.”</p>

<p>The scout and his pards talked until supper time, and
after supper they smoked out under the trees and watched
and waited for Wild Bill. As the hours passed without
bringing him, the scout’s uneasiness increased.</p>

<p>Perry and his daughter were in the house. The girl
was reading aloud, and her father sat in a near-by chair,
listening.</p>

<p>It must have been nearly nine o’clock when a beat of
hoofs in the trail brought the pards off the bench.</p>

<p>“Thar he comes!” declared old Nomad, with intense
satisfaction. “Now we’ll know what kind of er b’ar he’s
ketched by ther tail.”</p>

<p>A call from the scout brought the horseman to a halt
some distance away from the house.</p>

<p>“That you, Hickok?” asked Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>“Nary, it ain’t, Buffler Bill,” answered a voice. “This
hyer’s Sim Pierce ag’in. I’m droppin’ in purty frequent,
hey?”</p>

<p>“What’s to pay now, Sim?” returned the scout.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span></p>

<p>“Who’s with ye? I got ter know that afore I open
up.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce slid down from his horse and moved
closer to the group under the shadowy branches of the
tree.</p>

<p>“Old Nomad, the baron and Little Cayuse are with me,
Sim,” replied the scout.</p>

<p>“Perry an’ Mrs. Dunbar in the house?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Waal, ther’s the deuce ter pay, an’ no mistake. Dunbar’s
been arrested.”</p>

<p>Startled exclamations went up from the pards.</p>

<p>“What was he arrested for?” demanded the scout.</p>

<p>“For stealing dimings off of a Jew peddler named Abe
Isaacs.”</p>

<p>“A frame-up!” breathed the trapper; “a frame-up o’
Benner’s!”</p>

<p>“What proof is there that Dunbar stole the diamonds?”
went on the scout.</p>

<p>“He was ketched by the sher’ff with the stones in his
saddlebags.”</p>

<p>“I feel so madt aboudt dot I vish I couldt fight,” flared
the baron. “Tunpar vouldn’t do sooch t’ings, und dot’s
all aboudt it. Oof he vas ketched mit der tiamonts, den
somepody pud dem in his sattlepags. You hear vat I
say!”</p>

<p>“Tell us all you know about it, Sim,” said the scout.</p>

<p>Sim unbosomed himself, finally getting down to the
point that it was the sky pilot who had sent him to the
ranch this second time, just as he had done the first.</p>

<p>“He wants ye ter hotfoot it ter Hackamore, Buffler
Bill,” finished Pierce, “kase if anythin’s done fer Nate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>
ye’re the one thet’s got ter do it. The Hackamore
sher’ff’ll pay some attention ter you, which he won’t ter
the rest o’ us.”</p>

<p>“I’ll git the hosses, Buffler,” tuned up the trapper
joyfully, “an’ we’ll hit the breeze to’rds Hackamore.”</p>

<p>“Not so fast, Nick!” demurred the scout. “I’m the
only one that’s going to Hackamore. The rest of you
are to stay here with Mrs. Dunbar and Perry. What’s
on for to-night is more than any of us know. It’s a
cinch, I think, that this pretended robbery in Hackamore
is only a part of Lige Benner’s plot. He may try
to pull off another part of it here at the ranch, so you
fellows have got to stay and keep your eyes skinned.
When Wild Bill gets here, tell him where I am.”</p>

<p>The scout’s order was received in gloomy silence. All
the lively doings seemed to be monopolized by Benner’s
ranch and the town of Hackamore, and the peaceful quiet
at the Star-A was not at all alluring.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill was not long in getting riding leather
on Bear Paw. When he drew up in front of his pards,
he leaned from the saddle for a few words of caution.</p>

<p>“Don’t tell Hattie and her father anything about this,
pards,” said he. “Jordan and I will get Dunbar out of
the scrape, and there’s no use pestering Perry and the
girl with the details. Dunbar can tell them all about it
when we bring him back. And don’t fail to stay here
on guard. Lige Benner isn’t above sending some of his
cowboys here to raise a ruction. If they come, you take
care of them.”</p>

<p>The scout straightened in his saddle and gathered up
his reins.</p>

<p>“All right, Sim,” said he.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span></p>

<p>The spurs clinked and the two horses leaped forward
into the shadows that overhung the trail.</p>

<p>“Orders is orders,” growled old Nomad, “but I shore
wisht I was goin’ erlong with Buffler, er else over ter
pay a visit at the Circle-B.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.<br />
<span class="fs70">AT ODDS WITH THE SHERIFF.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>It was midnight when Buffalo Bill turned his horse
over to Sim Pierce to be taken to the corral, and stepped
into the office of the Delmonico Hotel.</p>

<p>There were but three men in the office&mdash;Jordan, Isaacs
and the clerk.</p>

<p>The moment the scout entered the room a load of
anxiety seemed to drop from the sky pilot’s shoulders.
He started toward the scout with outstretched hand.</p>

<p>“I’m more than glad to see you, Buffalo Bill!” he exclaimed.
“Our friend Nate is the victim of some dastardly
plot, and circumstantial evidence is all against
him.”</p>

<p>“Let’s go to the jail and see him, Jordan,” said the
scout.</p>

<p>“The sheriff won’t allow any one to see him.”</p>

<p>“I reckon he’ll let me.”</p>

<p>“He says he won’t let a soul into the jail to-night.
But here’s some one else you can talk with&mdash;Abraham
Isaacs, the man from whom the diamonds were taken.”</p>

<p>The scout whirled on Isaacs. Under his searching
eyes, the Jew lowered his face. The two hands that
held his battered satchel on his knees trembled perceptibly.
In three strides the scout was at the Jew’s side.</p>

<p>“Your name is Abraham Isaacs, is it?” he demanded
sharply.</p>

<p>“Yah, so,” the Jew answered, keeping his eyes averted.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span></p>

<p>“You say young Dunbar stole some diamonds from
you?”</p>

<p>“I say dot I lose some tiamonts. Dey was foundt on
Dunbar. Vat you t’ink?”</p>

<p>“I think there’s been a hocus-pocus, and that Dunbar
is getting the worst of it. Where are the diamonds you
lost, Isaacs?”</p>

<p>The Jew opened the satchel and took out a handful of
rings, watch charms and buttons&mdash;all set with stones.
The diamond-mounted buttons were affected by some of
the wealthy cattle barons.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill picked up one of the rings and looked at
it closely. Isaacs scarcely breathed during the examination,
fearing that Buffalo Bill might discover that the
stone was an imitation.</p>

<p>“Nate wasn’t intending to return to the ranch for a
day or two,” said the scout, dropping the ring into the
Jew’s hand. “Why did he start back in the afternoon of
the same day he reached Hackamore?”</p>

<p>“Pecause,” croaked Isaacs, “he wanted to get avay mit
der tiamonts.”</p>

<p>“That wasn’t the reason,” spoke up Jordan calmly.
“He didn’t know I had sent Sim Pierce to the Star-A
ranch. When he saw Pierce, and Pierce told him, Nate
came to my room and I gave him the information I had
sent to you. He was worried, and decided to ride back
to the ranch at once. There is no doubt but it was
that move that aroused suspicion against him. The sheriff
was here in the office when Isaacs reported the robbery,
and he at once started after Nate with a posse.
When Nate was overhauled and searched, the diamonds
were found in his saddlebags.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span></p>

<p>“How was it possible for Nate to take the stones&mdash;assuming
that he did take them?”</p>

<p>“I vas mit him in vone of der hotel rooms,” answered
the Jew, “und I sold him a tiamont ring vort’ vone hundert
an’ feefty toller for vone hundert tollar. It must
haf been vile he vas buying der ring dot he took der
odder t’ings. Dot’s der only shance he vouldt haf.”</p>

<p>“You’re too sharp, Isaacs,” declared the scout, “to let
any one fool you that way. Nate couldn’t have taken the
stones right under your eyes.”</p>

<p>“Vell, how it vas der shtones vas foundt in his sattlepags?”</p>

<p>“There’s an explanation,” said the scout curtly, “and
Nate isn’t involved in it. Were Benner, or any of his
men, in town during the afternoon?”</p>

<p>“Jerry Benner was in town, Buffler Bill,” called the
clerk from behind the counter.</p>

<p>“Was he at this hotel at the time of the robbery?”</p>

<p>“Nix, he wasn’t at this hotel at all. I only heerd he
was in town from fellers that seen him.”</p>

<p>“Did you see Jerry Benner, Isaacs?” asked the scout,
fixing a keen glance on the Jew.</p>

<p>“How shouldt I see him?” quavered Isaacs.</p>

<p>“I don’t know how you did, but did you?”</p>

<p>“No, I dit nod see Cherry.”</p>

<p>Once more the scout turned to the clerk.</p>

<p>“Keep your eyes on the Jew, will you,” he asked,
“while Jordan and I go to the jail for a talk with Nate
Dunbar? If he tries to get away, pull a gun on him.
This robbery business is going to be sifted to the bottom,
and those who have got Dunbar into this fix are
going to suffer for it.”</p>

<p>“I’ll watch him, ye kin bet on that,” said the clerk.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>
“He won’t leave here, Buffler Bill, an’ when ye want him
ye’ll know whar ter find him.”</p>

<p>“Buenos!” The scout whirled away towards the door.
“Come on, parson,” said he; “we’ll now move toward the
jail.”</p>

<p>The jail was an isolated shanty at the end of the street.
Gloomy shadows hung around it. As the scout and the
sky pilot came up in front of the small structure, a man
started up out of the shadows and planted himself in
front of them.</p>

<p>“That’s far enough!” the man snapped.</p>

<p>“It’s not far enough to suit me,” returned the scout.</p>

<p>“Well, I’m the one that’s boss here.”</p>

<p>“Who are you?”</p>

<p>“Bloom, the sheriff.”</p>

<p>“And <ins class="corr" id="tn185" title="Transcriber’s Note—“I’m Buffalo Bill, anr a frienh” changed to “I’m Buffalo Bill, and a friend”.">I’m Buffalo Bill, and a friend</ins>
of Nate Dunbar. I’ve come to talk with him, and Mr. Jordan is with
me.”</p>

<p>“You can’t talk with him to-night. That shot goes
as it lays.”</p>

<p>Bloom, the sheriff, had a rifle in his hands. As he
spoke he brought it to “port arms” and glared at the
scout over the barrel.</p>

<p>“I’d rather not have any trouble with you, Bloom,”
said the scout, the words clicking like the snap of a
breechblock, “but you’re putting on the screws at a
time when it’s unnecessary and useless. Why can’t we
go in and talk with Nate?”</p>

<p>“Because I tell you you can’t,” ground out the sheriff.</p>

<p>The next moment the scout had made a move. It was
a lightning-like move, and when the sheriff had caught
his breath the scout was standing in front of him with
the rifle. Nor was the rifle at “port arms;” its point
was leveled at Bloom’s breast.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span></p>

<p>“That’s the way you stack up, is it?” asked the sheriff,
in a tense voice.</p>

<p>“It is,” was the cool reply. “Maybe you’d like to
lock me up with Dunbar? Think twice before you try.
This is not a time to say ‘no’ to me, Bloom. Lead the
way into the jail.”</p>

<p>The sheriff hesitated.</p>

<p>“On an occasion like this I’m not in the habit of
repeating an order,” went on the scout significantly.</p>

<p>The sheriff snapped his jaws together, whirled on his
heel and unlocked the door of the jail. When he had
stepped inside, the scout and the sky pilot crossed the
threshold after him.</p>

<p>“Strike a light, Bloom,” ordered the scout.</p>

<p>A match was scratched and a lamp lighted. In the
middle of the shanty’s one room stood a bench; and on
the bench, wrists and ankles manacled, sat Dunbar.</p>

<p>His face was haggard, but a light of hope shone in his
eyes as they rested on the scout.</p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill!” he exclaimed joyfully. “I thought
you’d come as soon as you found out what had happened
to me. Does Hattie know? Or Dick?”</p>

<p>“Neither of them has been told, Nate,” answered the
scout, stepping to the young rancher’s side and dropping
a kindly hand on his shoulder. “Nor will they know,”
he added, “until we get you out of this and you tell
them yourself.”</p>

<p>The handcuffs rattled as Dunbar gripped the scout’s
hand.</p>

<p>“You’re a friend worth having, amigo,” he murmured,
“same as Jordan, there.”</p>

<p>“This foul injustice, Nate,” said the sky pilot, “will
not be allowed to continue long. Truth will prevail, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>
those who have caused this trouble will be made to
suffer for it.”</p>

<p>“What do you know about those diamonds they say
you stole, Nate?” inquired the scout. “Anything?”</p>

<p>“Not a thing, Buffalo Bill,” protested Dunbar. “I was
hiking for the ranch when Bloom, and three cowboys,
came slashing up alongside my horse, with their guns
out. They ordered me to lift my hands. I did as they
told me. Bloom hunted through my saddlebags and
pulled out the diamonds. That was the first time I ever
saw them.”</p>

<p>“Likely yarn,” grunted Bloom. “Caught with the
goods on, an’ you haven’t the nerve to own up.”</p>

<p>“I didn’t take the diamonds!” cried Dunbar angrily.</p>

<p>“You’ll have a chance to prove it in court. And I
reckon you won’t prove it. You’ll go to the nearest
‘pen,’ and that’ll stop these troubles in the cow country.”</p>

<p>The scout turned slowly and swept his eyes over
Bloom.</p>

<p>“You’re doing a heap of talking, seems to me,” said
he, “for a man who’s merely an officer of the law. What
is it to you whether Dunbar goes free, or goes over
the road? Anything personal in it for you?”</p>

<p>The sheriff scowled but did not reply.</p>

<p>“He’s a friend of Lige Benner’s,” declared Dunbar,
“and no friend of Perry’s or mine. While we were
having our hard time on the Brazos, he was throwing the
gaff into us every chance he got.”</p>

<p>“You’re a pill,” scowled Bloom, “and you ought to be
run out of the country. That’s how I feel.”</p>

<p>“Well,” said the scout scathingly, “be advised by me,
Bloom, and don’t let your personal spite interfere with
your duties as a public officer.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span></p>

<p>“You’re not so high an’ mighty,” sneered Bloom. “Because
you’re a government scout, you ain’t bigger’n the
whole State of Texas.”</p>

<p>“I’m big enough to look after you and take care of
Nate,” replied Buffalo Bill. “The boy’s no thief.”</p>

<p>“Prove it!” grunted Bloom.</p>

<p>The door was kicked open just at that moment, and
Wild Bill pushed breathlessly into the room.</p>

<p>“Sure we’ll prove it!” he cried; “by gorry, that’s what
I’m here for&mdash;it’s what I’ve been pounding over this
range for during the last five hours. Nate’s innocent!
Listen to the mellow trill of my bazoo, all hands!”</p>

<p>Wild Bill dropped wearily down on the bench beside
Dunbar.</p>

<p>The Laramie man presented an appearance that was
badly demoralized, to say the least. He still wore his
mismatched footgear and his torn slouch hat. Where
the disguise had been stripped away his usual costume
showed itself, but it did not appreciably improve his appearance.
His hands, face and clothing were covered
with grime.</p>

<p>“Can&mdash;can this be Mr. Hickok?” faltered the sky pilot.</p>

<p>“It’s Wild Bill, parson,” laughed the scout. “Where’d
you come from, pard?”</p>

<p>“From the Star-A ranch last, amigo,” replied Wild
Bill. “Old Nomad gave me a tip as to what had happened,
and where you were, and I raced on here. Beeswax
has had some travel to-night&mdash;and it was a bee line
and the keen jump every foot of the way.”</p>

<p>“What happened at the Circle-B?”</p>

<p>“I’m getting to that. The Jew, Abe Isaacs, is at the
hotel. I tarried there just long enough to see him in
the office and to find out that you were at the jail. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>
think the Jew better be here with us while the case is
tried.”</p>

<p>“This case ain’t goin’ to be tried,” cried the sheriff,
“till it comes up in the regular way.”</p>

<p>“Who’s he, Pard Cody?” asked Wild Bill, nodding
toward Bloom.</p>

<p>“He’s the sheriff,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>“Oh, is that all? Can’t he be quiet till he’s spoken to?
You’re the judge, Buffalo Bill, and the parson is the jury.
I’m attorney for the defense, and the sheriff can be attorney
for the prosecution, if he wants to. Who’s going
after Isaacs&mdash;the judge or the jury?”</p>

<p>“The jury had better go,” laughed Jordan; “the judge
has to keep an eye on the attorney for the prosecution.
I’ll be back before many minutes have passed.”</p>

<p>The sky pilot left the jail.</p>

<p>“I’ve stood for this foolishness about as long as I’m
a-going to,” snarled Bloom. “Give me that gun, Buffalo
Bill, and clear out o’ here.”</p>

<p>“Not till after the trial,” was the cool reply. “Calm
down, Bloom. Don’t get rantankerous. I’ve got a Long
Tom and two sixes, and Pard Hickok has a pair of forty-fives.
Just reflect on the amount of lead we could
throw at one broadside, and take things as you find
them.”</p>

<p>“Has the sheriff got an ax to grind, Pard Cody,” asked
Wild Bill, “or is he just naturally ugly?”</p>

<p>“A little of both, I reckon.”</p>

<p>“You fellers can’t ride roughshod over the law o’ this
State,” cried Bloom.</p>

<p>“We’ll ride roughshod over you,” flung back Wild
Bill, “if you give us any more of your back talk. What<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>
I’ve gone through to-night hasn’t sweetened my temper
any.”</p>

<p>“Have you found out something that proves I’m not a
thief?” asked Nate.</p>

<p>“I’m next to a whole lote, Nate, that maybe you never
dreamed about,” said Wild Bill. “But wait till the case
comes to trial; wait till&mdash;&mdash; Ah, the parson and the Hebrew!
Here’s where we get busy.”</p>

<p>It seemed evident that Isaacs had not come willingly
to the jail. The sky pilot had an arm hooked through
his and was half dragging him along. From one of the
Jew’s hands swung his always-present satchel.</p>

<p>Isaacs’ face was an ashen hue under the lamplight,
and with his free hand he pulled nervously at his long
beard.</p>

<p>“Here’s Mr. Isaacs, Buffalo Bill,” announced the sky
pilot, pushing his companion forward.</p>

<p>“Don’t be scared, Isaacs,” said Wild Bill, getting up
from the bench, “you’re only a witness. Sit down.”</p>

<p>“Chentlemen,” quavered the Jew, sinking down on the
bench, “vat is der meaning of dis?”</p>

<p>“You’ll know in a little while,” answered Wild Bill.
“If the attorney for the prosecution&mdash;or persecution&mdash;will
state his case, I’ll come back at him with a handful
of cold facts. Go on, Bloom.”</p>

<p>“You fellers’ll not make a fool o’ me,” growled the
sheriff. “Just get done with your play and mosey out
o’ here. That’s all I want o’ you.”</p>

<p>“Then, your honor,” said Wild Bill, bowing to the
scout, “I might as well open up my bag of tricks. This
Jew, Abraham Isaacs, came to the Circle-B ranch yesterday
and had a palaver with Lige and Jerry Benner.
Isaacs was piloted out there by Red Steve, as graceless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>
a scoundrel as ever went unhung. Lige selected about
thirteen hundred dollars worth of jewelry from that
bag of Isaacs’, but said he wouldn’t take the stuff unless
Isaacs would help him prove Nate Dunbar a thief. Jerry
Benner did most of the talking, and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Lieber Gott,” wailed Isaacs suddenly, slumping down
on the floor and hugging Wild Bill about the knees.
“Dot iss plendy! Say no more, mein friendt! Say no
more!”</p>

<p>Wild Bill kicked the peddler away.</p>

<p>“Get back on your bench,” he ordered sternly, “and
don’t butt into my argument. Isaacs agreed to come
back to Hackamore, while Dunbar was in town, and put
up a howl that he had been robbed. Jerry Benner was
also to come to town, get some fake diamonds from
Isaacs, and put them in Dunbar’s saddlebags. That’s
what happened. Lige Benner and his brother Jerry
fixed up this little game, and Abraham Isaacs helped them
carry it through. Is that so?” he cried, turning on the
Jew. “Answer!”</p>

<p>“Ach, it iss so!” groaned Isaacs. “Vat a miserable
mans I vas! I didn’t vant to do dot, aber I lose der
sale if I don’t.”</p>

<p>“You admit,” went on Wild Bill, “that you gave those
diamonds to Jerry Benner?”</p>

<p>“Yah, so!”</p>

<p>“And that Benner was going to put them in Dunbar’s
saddlebags?”</p>

<p>“It vas like you say! Vat a most unhabby man iss
me! Mercy, chentlemen! Don’t do nodding mit me.
It vas Lige und Cherry Benner.”</p>

<p>“The defense rests,” said Wild Bill.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span></p>

<p>“The case goes to the jury,” said the scout, turning
to the sky pilot. “What’s your verdict, parson?”</p>

<p>“Not guilty,” said the sky pilot promptly.</p>

<p>“The prisoner at the bar is discharged,” declared the
scout. “Bloom, take off those manacles.”</p>

<p>“I’ll not do any such thing!” cried the sheriff. “I’ll
let you kill me first.”</p>

<p>“He ought to be killed, Pard Cody,” growled the Laramie
man, “even if you make up your mind you won’t do
it. I’d like the pleasure of taking off those iron gyves
myself. Hold that rifle on him while I go through his
clothes.”</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill brought the rifle to bear on Bloom, and
ordered him to put his hands in the air. Bloom fumed
and protested, but his hands went up nevertheless.</p>

<p>The Laramie man searched his pockets, found a bunch
of keys, and soon had the manacles off the young rancher’s
wrists and ankles.</p>

<p>“You men will pay for this high-handed proceeding!”
scowled Bloom.</p>

<p>Wild Bill laughed.</p>

<p>“You were the only one who did anything high-handed,
sheriff,” he returned.</p>

<p>“How did you find out all this, Wild Bill?” queried
the dazed Dunbar. “I had a notion that Lige Benner
was back of the play, but there wasn’t any way I could
prove it. I seemed to be tied up hard and fast in circumstantial
evidence.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill told what had happened to him at the
Circle-B ranch. He protected Ace Hawkins, however, by
failing to mention his name in the presence of the sheriff.
Bloom was manifestly a friend of the Benners, and not
to be trusted with any information about Hawkins. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>
Laramie man let it appear as though he had effected his
own escape by way of the chimney.</p>

<p>“That sounds too good to be true,” said Bloom sarcastically.</p>

<p>“I reckon it does, to you,” returned Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“If you know when you’re well off, sheriff,” said the
scout, “you’ll let this matter drop. You don’t show up
very well in what has happened. I’m ready to meet you,
though, on any grounds you care to cut out.”</p>

<p>Bloom made no answer, but stared stonily at the scout.</p>

<p>“Nate,” pursued Buffalo Bill, “you’ll march out of
here arm in arm with your good friend, the sky pilot;
Wild Bill, you’ll personally conduct Abe Isaacs back to
the hotel office where we can get his testimony in writing;
I’ll bring up the rear of the procession and stay
company front with Bloom, ready to begin on him whenever
he makes the proper sign.”</p>

<p>But the sheriff made no “sign.” The scout and his
party walked unmolested out of the jail, and proceeded
in the direction of the Delmonico Hotel.</p>

<p>“Shake, Pard Hickok,” said the scout, when they were
nearing the hotel office. “You’ve done fine work, although
it’s hard to understand how you slipped your
bonds and got out of that chimney&mdash;but you’re here,
and that proves that you called the turn somehow.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill chuckled as he looked around and took the
scout’s hand.</p>

<p>“I’m in on this, Wild Bill,” spoke up Dunbar, seizing
the Laramie man’s hand when the scout was through
with it. “This is something more I owe the scout and
his pards.”</p>

<p>“You owe more to the sky pilot, Dunbar, than to any
one else,” answered Wild Bill.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span></p>

<p>“How is that?” asked Jordan.</p>

<p>“I’ll tell you later.”</p>

<p>The trembling Isaacs was conducted into the hotel
office and made to write out an account of his agreement
with Lige and Jerry Benner. Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill, and
Jordan signed the paper as witnesses.</p>

<p>“Now, Isaacs,” said the scout, folding the paper and
thrusting it into his pocket, “as it will soon be known to
the Benners that they have lost out through you, I’d suggest
that you do not linger in Hackamore. An extended
sojourn might not be pleasant for you. It’s only a suggestion,
however, and you can do as you please.”</p>

<p>“I vill go,” declared Isaacs eagerly, “und I vill go
now.”</p>

<p>And he did go&mdash;taking Lige Benner’s five hundred
dollars with him.</p>

<p>The morning gray was streaking the east when all
this business was finished.</p>

<p>“Suppose we go to bed?” said the scout.</p>

<p>“Come out hyer fust, you men,” called a voice from
the front of the hotel.</p>

<p>It was the clerk. He had accompanied Isaacs to the
corral to make sure that he took his own horse, and he
was now calling those in the office from the hitching
pole.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill, and Jordan hurriedly answered
the clerk’s summons. In the dim, ghostly light
of coming day a weary horse could be seen with drooping
head over the pole. A man was hanging to the saddle&mdash;bound
to the horn and cantle by a rope. His arms
hung limply, and his head was bowed over on the horse’s
neck.</p>

<p>“Who is it?” demanded the scout.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span></p>

<p>“Pass the ante,” the clerk answered. “The hoss must
hev come up hyer while I was at the c’ral. The man’s
tied in the saddle. By jings, he’s shot an’ past talkin’!
It’s&mdash;it’s one o’ Benner’s men. It’s Ace Hawkins.”</p>

<p>The sky pilot and Wild Bill both started hastily forward.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.<br />
<span class="fs70">IN A GOOD CAUSE.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The limp form in the saddle was untied and carried
into the hotel. The clerk proffered the use of a room&mdash;the
same room in which Dunbar had talked with Isaacs&mdash;and
Hawkins was borne in there and laid down on the
bed. A doctor was sent for.</p>

<p>“He’s got his gruel, that’s my opinion,” announced
Wild Bill, surveying a wound in Hawkins’ breast.</p>

<p>“This,” said Jordan, in a voice that throbbed with
deep feeling, “is my friend&mdash;the very man who came
from Benner’s ranch and told me that trouble was brewing
for Perry and Dunbar.”</p>

<p>“And he’s the man, parson,” added Wild Bill, “who
helped me out of Benner’s adobe house. Red Steve
and his White Caps were standing guard around the
house to see that I didn’t make a getaway; and it was
Hawkins, here, who came down the chimney, took the
ropes off me, and helped me get out and find my horse.
He said he had helped me because he was a friend of
yours, and that you had brought him to see where he
had been going wrong. When I left Hawkins, he was
just starting off with Red Steve and the other White
Caps. The scoundrels must have found out he helped me
to get away&mdash;and paid him for it.”</p>

<p>Wild Bill, with sadness and regret in his face, looked
down on the unconscious man.</p>

<p>“It was in a good cause, a good cause,” murmured the
sky pilot. “Although a brand snatched from the burning,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>
yet Ace Hawkins is nevertheless sure of his reward.”</p>

<p>The minister bent over and parted the tangled hair
from Hawkins’ forehead; then, gently, he began chafing
his temples.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill had laid a hand on his heart.</p>

<p>“He’s alive yet,” said he.</p>

<p>At that moment the doctor came.</p>

<p>“A shooting, eh?” said he, looking down at the man
on the bed with merely professional interest. “Pretty
bad, but I’ll see what I can do.”</p>

<p>The most the doctor could do was to revive Hawkins.
The man opened his eyes, and stared around.</p>

<p>“Whar’s Buffler Bill?” he asked feebly.</p>

<p>“Here!” said the scout, pushing close to the bed.</p>

<p>“Yer pard, Hickok&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Here, too, Hawkins,” cut in Wild Bill, stepping to
the scout’s side.</p>

<p>Hawkins lifted a hand, and brushed it across his forehead.</p>

<p>“The little hoss brought me ter town, eh?” he muttered.
“I was purty nigh fagged when I got that thar
rope around me an’ tied ter the saddle horn. I reckon
I’m about done an’&mdash;&mdash;” He paused abruptly, a faint
gleam coming into his eyes as they rested on the sky
pilot. “That you, parson?”</p>

<p>“It’s I, Ace,” said Jordan, coming up on the other side
of the bed and taking Hawkins by the hand. “Who did
this?”</p>

<p>“Red Steve. I reckoned he might.”</p>

<p>“Because you helped me?” asked Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Nary,” said Hawkins, a faint smile hovering around<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>
his lips, “the White Caps hadn’t found that out yit. This
was done bekase I tried ter help Perry.”</p>

<p>“Perry?” gasped Nate Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Yes, Perry,” went on Hawkins. “I got ter be muy
pronto if I git you fellers headed right. Remember when
I left ye, Wild Bill?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Well, the White Caps rode ter the Star-A ranch. I
was afeared we might see ye thar, but we didn’t. A trick
was played on Perry.”</p>

<p>“Trick?” echoed the scout. “What sort of a trick?”</p>

<p>“Why, Red Steve had Shorty Dobbs take off his white
fixin’s an’ ride up ter the ranch house. Shorty asked for
Perry. When Perry come out, Shorty told him that
Nate Dunbar had been arrested in Hackamore for
stealin’ dimings from Isaacs, that Buffler Bill had gone
to town, and that Buffler had sent him&mdash;Shorty&mdash;arter
Perry. Perry wasn’t ter tell anybody what had happened
’r whar he was goin’. He sneaked out ter the c’ral, got
onter his hoss, an’ started with Shorty. When them two
come ter whar the rest of us was waitin’ fer ’em, in the
timber, Perry was nabbed. I tried ter help Perry, an’
then’s when Red Steve let me have it. I knowed right
off I’d got my whatfer, but I wanted ter make Hackamore
an’ tell the facts ter Buffler Bill.”</p>

<p>Hawkins’ strength failed at this point, and the doctor
had to give him a stimulant to enable him to rally. Presently
he went on.</p>

<p>“They chased me, Red Steve, Shorty, an’ the rest, but
the little hoss was too fast fer ’em. I tell ye what, that
buckskin kin go! I was afeared, though, that I’d play
out afore we reached town, an’ that the hoss would kerry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>
me back ter the Circle-B. But he didn’t. He brung me
hyer.”</p>

<p>“What about Perry, Hawkins?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“It’s long odds whether ye save him er not. They’ve
took him ter Crowder’s c’ral&mdash;they&mdash;they&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>Hawkins’ head fell back, and his eyes closed. Jordan
threw a questioning, startled look at the doctor, but the
doctor shook his head.</p>

<p>“Not yet, parson,” said he; “it won’t be long, though.”</p>

<p>“They’ve bagged Dick Perry&mdash;the scoundrels!” muttered
Nate Dunbar. “What’re they going to do with
him?”</p>

<p>“If they follow out the plan as I got it from Red
Steve,” said Wild Bill, “they’re going to stake Perry
out and head a drove of stampeding longhorns his way.”</p>

<p>The sky pilot’s face went white.</p>

<p>“They couldn’t be so inhuman!” he declared. “They
wouldn’t dare do such a murderous thing!”</p>

<p>“You don’t know Red Steve, parson,” said Wild Bill.
“Even Lige Benner balked at that game&mdash;but his brother
Jerry stood for it, and Red Steve is going to do this unknown
to Lige.”</p>

<p>“We’ve got to do something,” cried Dunbar. “We
can’t stand here like this.”</p>

<p>“That’s right, Nate,” agreed the scout; “we’ve got to
make a quick move for Perry. The three of us can
manage it, I reckon. It’s a fight against long odds, for
Red Steve and his White Caps have several hours the
start of us, but we’ll do what we can. Do you know
where Crowder’s corral is?”</p>

<p>“Yes. The corral ain’t used now, except for an occasional
round-up.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span></p>

<p>“Well, that’s our destination. Spurs and quirts,
friends!”</p>

<p>As they started from the room, the scout turned and
looked back. Jordan was just laying a blanket over the
silent form on the bed. He caught the scout’s look, and
nodded.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill hurried on after Dunbar and Wild Bill.
In ten minutes they were slashing along the trail toward
the Brazos, Dunbar laying a course that was to bring
them to Crowder’s old corral by the shortest route.</p>

<p>“This is a bad job for Red Steve,” remarked Buffalo
Bill, as they galloped along.</p>

<p>“It’s not the only notch Red Steve has on his guns,”
said Dunbar.</p>

<p>“That Ace Hawkins was plumb white!” declared the
Laramie man. “He did what he thought was right, and
it seems hard that he’s got to pay for it like this.”</p>

<p>“Hawkins and the sky pilot must have been pretty
good friends, Pard Hickok. If they hadn’t been,
Hawkins would never have gone to the parson, as he
did, and told him that trouble was hatching at the
Circle-B ranch.”</p>

<p>“Human nature is a queer country,” mused Wild Bill.
“No Apache Injun could have thought up a worse
scheme than Red Steve concocted for putting Perry out
of the way. Hawkins looked to be on a par with Steve,
Shorty Dobbs, and the other White Caps, but, from the
way he’s acted, is easy to see you can’t always judge a
man by his looks. I take off my hat to Ace Hawkins!
He was a whole man.”</p>

<p>Dunbar’s mind was running on Perry&mdash;as was quite
natural, in the circumstances.</p>

<p>“Red Steve decoyed Perry away from the ranch,” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>
Dunbar, “and got him to leave without telling Hattie,
or any of your pards, Buffalo Bill, where he was going.
It was my trouble that was getting Dick away&mdash;and the
whelps downed him in the trail, and by now must have
him at Crowder’s corral. If we can save Dick, well and
good; if we can’t, I’ll camp on Red Steve’s trail, and
stay there until I get him or he gets me, one or t’other.”</p>

<p>“If I get a good chance,” cried Wild Bill, “I’ll camp
on Red Steve’s trail myself, just on account of Ace
Hawkins. Hawkins, while he was with Steve’s gang,
was playing a part, same as I was. He did it well, too;
so well that he fooled me. But, talking of snakes, that
Jerry Benner is the most venomous rattler loose in this
cattle country. Lige can’t hold a candle to him.”</p>

<p>The horses were none too fresh, especially Beeswax;
but they stretched themselves gallantly to their work.
Dunbar set the pace. The scout had brought Bloom’s
rifle with him. He had taken it from the jail, in order to
be on the safe side; and when the start for Crowder’s
corral was made it seemed good business to keep the
gun in hand against possible emergencies.</p>

<p>After two hours of rapid travel, the three riders
topped a “rise” that gave them a distant view of the
Brazos.</p>

<p>“Over there,” announced Dunbar, pointing with his
quirt, “is Crowder’s corral.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.<br />
<span class="fs70">LONG ODDS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The Brazos River, along this part of its course, flowed
through bluffy country. Here and there the low bluffs
gave way to show the river, sparkling in between.</p>

<p>The old corral came distinctly into view at about the
time a wave of stampeding cattle rolled down toward
the plain out of the mouth of one of the gullies in the
bluffs.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill shifted his eyes from the log walls of the
corral to the rushing tide of steers.</p>

<p>“There goes the stampede!” shouted Wild Bill.
“We’re not a minute too soon!”</p>

<p>“Where’s Perry?” demanded the frantic Dunbar,
sweeping his eyes over the level country in the vicinity
of the corral.</p>

<p>“If you want to locate Perry,” answered the scout,
“watch the cattle. The scoundrels who started that
stampede must have got them headed in the way they
want them to go.”</p>

<p>The thump of hoofs and the click of knocking horns
could be heard distinctly, while the gully began to smoke
from the dust kicked up by the racing steers.</p>

<p>“I can’t see Perry,” cried Dunbar; “that confounded
dust blurs everything. Let’s head off the cattle, if we
can! Perhaps we can get them to milling!”</p>

<p>Everything considered, this seemed to be the best
course. It was doubtful whether the frenzied longhorns
would keep to the course marked out for them by Red<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>
Steve and his men, and in this very doubt lay a chance
for Perry.</p>

<p>Uncertainty, however, hedged in every move the scout
and his two companions could make. Had they known
definitely just where Perry was, they could have planned
their efforts in his behalf more intelligently.</p>

<p>The three riders scattered, Dunbar riding to nag at
the herd’s flank close in toward the bluffs. Wild Bill
made a dead set at the rolling, dusty tide nearer the corral.
The scout, on the other hand, pointed Bear Paw in
a direction that would cut the wide path along which the
steers were running at a hundred yards or more in advance
of the leaders.</p>

<p>As the scout rode, he not only watched the steers, but
kept on the alert for some sign of Red Steve and the
scoundrels with him.</p>

<p>The dust had become a dense cloud, and screened most
of the frenzied herd. From the depths of the cloud came
the clickety-clack of striking horns and the rumble of
hoofs.</p>

<p>Suddenly the scout grew rigid in his saddle. The next
moment he had lifted himself high in his stirrups, and
was peering ahead at the object that had flashed before
his eyes.</p>

<p>The dust whirled and eddied about the object so that,
for a few moments, the scout was not sure of what he
saw. When Bear Paw had brought him closer, every
doubt faded.</p>

<p>Perry was before him, and directly in the course of
the charging steers!</p>

<p>Four stakes had been planted in the earth, so as to
form a square. In the centre of the square lay Perry,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>
flat on his back, arms and legs stretched out. Each
wrist and each ankle was fastened to a stake.</p>

<p>The cattleman’s torture, as he lay helpless between the
stakes, hearing the stampeding herd draw closer and
closer, must have been intense.</p>

<p>What was there the scout could do? While Bear
Paw continued to race on, Buffalo Bill once more lifted
himself in his stirrups and shouted for Wild Bill and
Dunbar.</p>

<p>The dust was so thick he could not see either of the
men, and the noise was so great his voice could not
travel far.</p>

<p>If anything was done for Perry, it must be the scout
alone who did it.</p>

<p>There was but one move open to him. This was to
fling himself forward and get between the approaching
steers and the helpless man roped to the stakes.</p>

<p>Just what could be accomplished by this move was
problematical. There was absolutely no other way, however,
by which even possible aid could be given to Perry.</p>

<p>It was a time when seconds counted. Half a minute
brought the scout in the position he had settled upon,
and he pulled Bear Paw to a sharp halt. He was between
the rancher and the moving dust cloud&mdash;the cloud from
whose forward edge pushed the foam-flecked nostrils and
the wide horns of the charging leaders.</p>

<p>Turning half around in his saddle so as to face the
steer, the scout lifted the gun from the saddle horn.</p>

<p>Could quick work with the rifle save Perry, or would
that rushing tide of steers overwhelm Buffalo Bill and
the unfortunate cattle baron?</p>

<p>Even as this momentous problem flashed through the
scout’s brain the rifle was at his shoulder.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span></p>

<p>Sping!</p>

<p>The hoarse roar of the gun echoed suddenly against
the background of noise caused by the steers.</p>

<p>One of the animals pitched forward.</p>

<p>Swiftly the scout worked the breech mechanism and
forced a fresh cartridge into place.</p>

<p>Sping!</p>

<p>Another steer went down.</p>

<p>He picked the animals off the edge of the herd, so that
those behind had to swerve farther and farther to the
right in order to find clear ground.</p>

<p>Sping! coughed the rifle; clatter, clatter, sping!</p>

<p>Six shots emptied the magazine, but the last two bullets
dropped steers in such a way that those behind
tumbled over the slain, so that there was a horrible tangle
of living and struggling animals, rolling and floundering
on the plain.</p>

<p>But the main part of the herd had been deflected. Sitting
breathless in his saddle, the king of scouts saw the
edge of the rushing herd just graze the stakes. Loose
earth was thrown at him and Perry by the flying hoofs,
and a choking fog rolled around and over them.</p>

<p>In three or four minutes the last of the steers had
passed. Six had been left on the plain, and to those
six Buffalo Bill and Perry owed their lives.</p>

<p>Wild Bill and Dunbar, now that the dust had settled
somewhat so they could see, put spurs to their horses and
dashed toward the scout.</p>

<p>“What were you killing Circle-B steers for, pard?”
asked Wild Bill, his voice husky with the dust.</p>

<p>“To turn the herd so it would go around Perry,” answered
the scout.</p>

<p>“Perry?” echoed Dunbar.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span></p>

<p>The scout backed Bear Paw one side and waved his
hand toward the stakes, and the man bound between
them.</p>

<p>A bellow of anger broke from the Laramie man, to be
taken up and re-echoed by Dunbar.</p>

<p>Throwing himself from his saddle, the young rancher
jerked a knife from his pocket and slashed the ropes that
held Perry in his torturing position.</p>

<p>For some time Perry could not move or speak, so worn
out and spent was he from the ordeal through which he
had passed. At last he succeeded in rising to a sitting
posture and turned his bloodshot eyes on the scout.</p>

<p>“Cody,” said he huskily, “you fought against long odds,
and you won out with the narrowest kind of a margin.
If you hadn’t turned those steers by a few feet, just
where and when you did, you and I would both have
been done for.”</p>

<p>“A miss is as good as a mile,” laughed the scout.
“There wasn’t time to cut the ropes and ride away
with you, so I had to stand my ground and fall back on
the rifle. Red Steve pegged you out, like that?”</p>

<p>“I don’t know who it was. The scoundrels wore white
caps drawn over their heads. They got hold of me by a
trick&mdash;a trick that would have worked successfully ninety-nine
times out of a hundred. A man came to the
house and asked for me. When I went out, he said that
Nate had been arrested for stealing diamonds, that Buffalo
Bill had gone to Hackamore, and that I was wanted
there. I wasn’t to tell my daughter, nor any of Buffalo
Bill’s pards. I could understand about not telling Hattie,
but why I was not to tell the scout’s pards was a mystery.
I see now that Red Steve was afraid, if old Nomad,
the baron and Little Cayuse knew where I was going,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>
they might try to dissuade me, or to let some one else go.
I hadn’t got far from the house along the trail when the
white-capped men made an attack. The attack was unexpected,
and I was taken at a disadvantage. They bound
me and carried me to the old corral. There I was left
till morning, when they brought me here and staked me
out.</p>

<p>“I hadn’t an idea what they were intending to do; but,
when I heard the rumble of racing hoofs, I surmised
what the fiends were about. They were planning to have
those cattle race over me and trample my life out! This
must have been some of Lige Benner’s doing. But how
did you three manage to learn of my predicament?”</p>

<p>“If you feel able to ride, Perry,” said the scout, “we
can talk that over on the way back to the ranch. What
became of your horse?”</p>

<p>“He got away during the fight I had with the White
Caps on the trail. I presume he went back to the ranch.
Hattie is probably doing a lot of worrying, and the
quicker Nate and I reach the ranch house, the better it
will be.”</p>

<p>“Dunbar and I might do a little riding and see if we
can’t locate Red Steve, or some of his men,” suggested
Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“No use,” said the scout. “Those scoundrels are on
their way back to the Circle-B ranch by now. We will
leave them alone till some other time. Our trails will
cross again, pard, and when they do&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout finished with a grim frown and a shrug of
the shoulders.</p>

<p>“When our trails cross again,” said Wild Bill, “we’ll
remember Ace Hawkins. I’ve marked Red Steve for
my own private kybosh. Take notice, everybody!”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span></p>

<p>Perry got up behind Dunbar, and on the way to the
Star-A ranch the events that had led up to the stampede
and the rescue of Perry were recounted for the rancher’s
benefit.</p>

<p>When the recital was done, Perry was silent for some
time.</p>

<p>“I wonder,” he finally muttered, “when Nate and I
will reach the end of this hostility? How much longer
will Benner keep up his evil work?”</p>

<p>“I think you’ve seen the last of it, Perry,” said Wild
Bill. “When he learns how his latest plans have failed,
all around, he’ll probably take a vacation in some other
part of the State and stay there till the last of the trouble
blows over.”</p>

<p>“And he tried to rob Dunbar of his good name, and me
of my life,” exclaimed Perry, “just to satisfy his desire
for vengeance!”</p>

<p>“He was hit pretty hard, during that other set-to we
had with him,” said Wild Bill, “and it’s hard for Lige
Benner to forget.”</p>

<p>“He’s got something else to forget now,” commented
Dunbar grimly.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.<br />
<span class="fs70">PEACE ON THE BRAZOS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>When the scout, the Laramie man, Nate Dunbar and
Perry rode up to the ranch house, they found Nomad
and Cayuse just about to start off on their horses.</p>

<p>The girl was in front of the cabin. At sight of her
husband and her father, she ran toward them with a cry
of joy. Nate flung himself from his saddle and clasped
his wife in his arms.</p>

<p>Hattie did not know how great a reason she had for
rejoicing over the return of Dunbar and Perry. But she
was soon to know.</p>

<p>“Waugh,” whooped the old trapper. “Ef hyer ain’t
the lot o’ ye. Wouldn’t give us a chance ter ride out an’
hunt ye up, would ye, Perry? Mrs. Dunbar was erbout
worried ter death, an’ Cayuse an’ me was goin’ on er
hike ter see ef we couldn’t locate ye. Whar’d ye go ter,
last night? An’ Buffler, how’d you come out in Hackamore?
Ye must hev made good, er Nate wouldn’t be
hyar with ye.”</p>

<p>“Hackamore?” echoed Mrs. Dunbar, withdrawing from
her husband’s arms and turning to her father, “what
happened in Hackamore, dad? This is the first time I’ve
heard that anything was going wrong in town.”</p>

<p>“Nate will tell you all about it, Hattie,” said Perry.
“Get us something to eat, will you, while he’s doing it?
We’re a lot of hungry men, girl, I can tell you that. I’ll
take your horse, Nate.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span></p>

<p>Nomad and Cayuse dropped into line and led their
horses back to the corral with the others.</p>

<p>The baron was asleep in the hammock. When the meal
was ready Nomad turned the hammock upside down and
informed the sputtering baron that everybody had got
back and that all hands were sitting in at the chuck
table.</p>

<p>“Vat a habbiness!” cried the baron bursting in on the
scout and the rest just as they were taking their chairs
for a late breakfast. “Vat a fine pitzness dot eferybody
got oudt oof eferyt’ing und dot ve vas all corraled again
mit ourselufs! Nodding much habbened to me dis trip,
aber I don’d mind dot. Der bleasure oof finding you all
togedder, iss more as I can oxbress.”</p>

<p>“Choke off, pard,” cried old Nomad; “Buffler is erbout
ter tell us what happened in Hackamore, while us fellers
was gyardin’ Mrs. Dunbar an’ the Star-A cabin. Don’t
keep him hangin’ fire.”</p>

<p>The events that had transpired in Hackamore were
recounted, and Hattie Dunbar flushed, and paled, and
trembled at the peril her husband had so narrowly escaped.</p>

<p>“We owe a lot to you, Mr. Hickok,” said the girl.
“We’ll never forget what we owe Mr. Hickok, will we,
Nate?”</p>

<p>“No, Hattie,” answered Nate. “I reckon you, and I,
and Dick can keep track of our obligations.”</p>

<p>“The sky pilot gets all the credit,” asserted Wild Bill.</p>

<p>And then, of course, he had to explain how it was
Hawkins’ friendship for Jordan that had brought about
the escape from the adobe house on the hill. To that
escape, and to the knowledge Wild Bill had acquired in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>
the adobe house, the rescue of Dunbar from the toils of
the law was due.</p>

<p>“I hope,” said Hattie tremulously, “that we have
reached the end of Lige Benner’s persecutions. Couldn’t
something be done to him for what he tried to do to
Nate?”</p>

<p>“I doubt it,” answered Buffalo Bill. “We have a clear
case against both Benners, Lige and Jerry, and this
statement in writing by Abe Isaacs clinches the evidence,
but I don’t believe Lige Benner could be punished by any
court in this part of the country. He is too powerful. I
think, however, that you and your people, Mrs. Dunbar,
will never be troubled any more by the Benners. They
went too far, in this last work, and everybody on the
Brazos will learn of it. Every respectable cattleman
will have nothing but contempt and disgust for the Benners
after this.”</p>

<p>“We could swing Red Steve for what he’s done, Pard
Cody,” declared Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Providing we could catch him,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“And providing you could prove that he was the man
who shot Hawkins,” added Dunbar.</p>

<p>“I’m pretty sure Red Steve was one of the White
Caps,” put in Perry, “but I didn’t get a look at his face,
and I couldn’t swear to it.”</p>

<p>“How about the man who came here and lured you out
into the trail?” queried the scout.</p>

<p>“I never saw that man before.”</p>

<p>“They call him Shorty Dobbs over at the Circle-B,”
said the Laramie man.</p>

<p>“I don’t think Dobbs has been with Benner long,”
spoke up Dunbar.</p>

<p>“All’s well that ends well, they say,” observed Perry,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>
“and I wish some one would tell me for certain that the
present peace on the Brazos will last.”</p>

<p>“I and my pards will stay around here until we’re sure
there’ll be nothing but peace on the river,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“That makes me feel easier in my mind,” declared
Perry. “With you and your pards for friends and champions,
Buffalo Bill, anything Benner can do won’t worry
me much.”</p>

<p>“Buffler hes got somethin’ up his sleeve,” said old
Nomad, “an’ I’ll bet a blue stack on it.”</p>

<p>“Vat it iss, bard?” queried the inquisitive baron.</p>

<p>“He’s goin’ ter hang eround ther Brazos an’ lay fer Red
Steve. Steve was erbout ther fust ruffian the scout got
acquainted with on the Brazos, an’ I reckon he’s plannin’
ter make Steve ther last, as well.”</p>

<p>“Red Steve richly deserves punishment for his misdeeds,”
said the scout. “I couldn’t leave the Brazos
while Red Steve was still at large without feeling I had
failed in my duty.”</p>

<p>“Same here,” seconded the Laramie man. “But don’t
you forget, Pard Cody, that I’ve marked Red Steve for
my own. He and I are going to come together, before
many days, and then he’ll go to some place where the
law’s doing its regulation work and answer for Ace
Hawkins.”</p>

<p>“The law’s in full bloom in Hackamore, Hickok,”
laughed the scout.</p>

<p>“It’s not the sort of Bloom that spells right and justice.
The sheriff in Hackamore is working for the Benners,
if I’m any judge.”</p>

<p>“Bloom has always been hand-and-glove with Lige Benner,”
said Perry. “And he has never been a friend of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>
Nate’s and mine. He was only too willing, I’ll warrant
you, to arrest Nate for taking those diamonds.”</p>

<p>“Ten to one,” spoke up Wild Bill, “Jerry Benner gave
Bloom his cue before Abe Isaacs made his howl about the
stones being stolen.”</p>

<p>“Ther hull thing sounds like er frame-up, from start
ter finish,” dropped in old Nomad. “Thet Jerry Benner
must er had a powerful head ter set a thing like thet ter
goin’.”</p>

<p>“That head of his will get Lige Benner into trouble,
one of these days,” averred Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Oh,” exclaimed Nate Dunbar, pushing back from the
table, “I was forgetting something.”</p>

<p>His hand went into an inside pocket and he brought
out a little, plush-covered box.</p>

<p>“I didn’t finish all the business that took me to Hackamore,”
he went on, “but I did manage to wind up the
most important part of it. That’s for you, Hattie.”</p>

<p>A cry of delight broke from the girl when she saw
the diamond.</p>

<p>“Whenever I look at this ring, Nate,” she said, slipping
it on her finger and holding it where the sun struck vari-colored
hues from the stone, “I shall always remember
your peril in Hackamore, and the gallant friends who
saved you from the plots of Lige Benner.”</p>

<p>“Amen to that,” added Dick Perry.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.<br />
<span class="fs70">RED THUNDERBOLT.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>Buffalo Bill was in earnest when he said that he could
not leave the Brazos while Red Steve was at large, and,
after a day’s rest, the scout set out for Hackamore with
his trapper pard. It was his intention to call on Sheriff
Bloom and learn what, if anything, he knew about
Steve.</p>

<p>The pards were riding quietly along the trail when
Nomad suddenly drew rein.</p>

<p>“I’m a Piegan, Buffler,” he howled, “ef it ain’t thet
thar Thunderbolt critter, ther demon o’ ther range, ther
big medicine steer thet kain’t be captured er killed.
Wisht we had er rifle!”</p>

<p>Thunderbolt was an outcast. In all that cattle country
of the Brazos every man’s hand was against him.</p>

<p>Bred on the wild <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">llano</i>, he was early compelled to shift
for himself, growing up into a wild and untrammeled
freedom. He rebelled against authority and asked only
to be let alone.</p>

<p>Grass and water were free. He took his forage wherever
he found it. In the winter he starved more or
less, fighting out the “northers” under the lee of hills,
or in the leafless shelters of the Brazos thickets; but in
the spring and summer he roamed at will, grazing wherever
fancy led him and sniffing the air and watching
keen-eyed for human foes.</p>

<p>When he was three years old, this maverick fell in
with a bunch of cattle from one of the Brazos ranches.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>
He experienced a desire for brute companionship, and
when the cowboys came he was caught in a gully and
hurried in the direction of the branding pen.</p>

<p>A rope was thrown. Imbued with the strength of a
huge body and the unfettered years, he snapped the rope
in twain, overset a horse and threw a cowboy sprawling.
Then he raced for the great out-doors, bent only on
getting clear of these human foes, with their ropes, and
their fires, and their branding irons.</p>

<p>Six men on fleet horses took after him. One rider,
his mount fleeter than the others, came near to running
him down. Just as the noose was leaving the pursuer’s
hand, the maverick whirled to an about face and charged.</p>

<p>A revolver echoed. Its puny report was almost lost
in the immensity of the plain. The bullet bit into the
maverick’s dusty side, ran like fire along his ribs and
filled his heart with madness.</p>

<p>Like a thunderbolt he collided with horse and rider;
and when he broke away and raced on to his hardly won
freedom, he left a dead cow pony behind him, and a
cowboy with a broken arm.</p>

<p>From that moment, the maverick was called Red
Thunderbolt throughout the range. War was declared
on him, and cunning traps were devised for his capture.</p>

<p>But never a trap closed upon Red Thunderbolt. His
brute cunning was more than a match for the cunning
of his foes.</p>

<p>But the maverick did not come off scatheless in his
various encounters with mounted men. He broke more
ropes than ever went wrong on that range before; and
he broke more saddle cinches and injured more good
saddle leather than natural wear and tear would have accomplished
in half a dozen years.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span></p>

<p>Also, he killed a cowboy.</p>

<p>When goaded into frenzy by the pestering horsemen
with their ropes and guns, Red Thunderbolt pitted his
life against the lives of his enemies. He was playing
the game, and the unfortunate cowboy had yielded to
the fortunes of war.</p>

<p>From that time on, the nature of the campaign
against Thunderbolt underwent a change. No further
attempts were made to rope the unmanageable maverick,
but all cowboys were armed with rifles and ordered to
shoot him on sight, and to shoot to kill.</p>

<p>Again and again the longhorn was wounded. His
red hide was scarred with bullet wounds. Nevertheless,
he continued to live and to defy his enemies, and it
seemed that he bore a charmed life.</p>

<p>Wild tales of what Red Thunderbolt had done and was
capable of doing were noised up and down the Brazos.</p>

<p>It was gravely declared that he was seen at Portala’s,
on the upper river, at noon of a certain day; and, at two
o’clock in the afternoon of that day, he was also discovered
racing across the range a hundred and fifty miles
to the south of Portala’s.</p>

<p>From this it was argued that Thunderbolt, whenever
he chose to “let himself out,” had the speed of a lightning
express train.</p>

<p>The maverick, from accounts, was able to appear in
two widely separated places at the same time.</p>

<p>His strength was talked of in awed whispers, and took
on an aspect as incredible as his speed.</p>

<p>It was related that before the killing of Dusenberry,
two cowboys had roped Thunderbolt, and that he had
pulled both men, saddles and all, over their horses’ heads.
Thunderbolt had faded away with the saddles. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>
missing gear had at last been found in a dry wash&mdash;with
the ropes neatly coiled and lying over the saddle horns!</p>

<p>Such wonder tales, aroused by the remarkable prowess
of Thunderbolt, filled every rider of the range with
something akin to panic.</p>

<p>Cowboys no longer hunted the maverick by ones or in
couples&mdash;they rather avoided him, or the haunts where
he was supposed to be, unless they traveled in parties of
three or more.</p>

<p>For two years Red Thunderbolt kept up the battle,
spreading terror wherever he went and growing wise in
the ways of the cowboy hunters. He was a veteran.</p>

<p>One day, he was feeding in the Whiplash Hills that
bordered the Brazos. He was close to a trail, and the
wind was in the wrong direction for him to scent the
approach of a man on foot, who came suddenly into
view around the base of an uplift.</p>

<p>Thunderbolt was less than a hundred feet from the
man. The latter, recognizing the steer, gave a wild
yell, and jerked a revolver from his belt.</p>

<p>There was nothing the man could climb and get out of
the longhorn’s way, nothing he could get behind.</p>

<p>The maverick, seeing the glimmering thing rise in the
man’s hand, realized that there was danger. Thunderbolt
had learned that the safest way out of danger was
by charging, not running.</p>

<p>So his head dropped, he gave a wild bellow, and
started for the man like a red streak.</p>

<p><em>Crack!</em></p>

<p>The lead went wide. Another moment and the man
was lifted clear of the ground and thrown a dozen feet,
alighting on the earth with cruel force.</p>

<p>Red Thunderbolt, from the impetus of his first charge,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>
passed on around the base of the hill. It was his intention
to turn and repeat the charge, trampling and horning
the man on the ground as long as he showed any signs
of life.</p>

<p>But, when the trail beyond the hill’s base opened before
Thunderbolt’s eyes, he saw a sight that gave him
pause.</p>

<p>Two mounted men were coming toward him at speed&mdash;and
they were not the sort of men with whom the
maverick was familiar.</p>

<p>Their horses were larger than the usual cow pony,
larger and stronger. And the men who backed them
were clad differently than the human enemies whom
Thunderbolt had heretofore encountered. Furthermore,
they were thundering toward him, ropes in their hands,
fiercely determined.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” howled one of the horsemen. “I’m er
Piegan, Buffler, ef et ain’t thet thar Thunderbolt critter,
ther demon o’ ther range, ther big medicine steer thet
kain’t be captered er killed. Wisht we had er rifle!”</p>

<p>“That was a man’s shout we heard, Nick!” answered
Buffalo Bill. “We’ll keep Thunderbolt busy while the
man gets away, anyhow. Let’s see what we can do with
our ropes.”</p>

<p>Again Thunderbolt made up his mind to throw himself
headlong into the threatening danger, escaping the coil
by either killing or crippling his foes.</p>

<p>“He’s chargin’!” whooped the old trapper. “Look out
fer yerself, pard!”</p>

<p>The king of scouts needed no urging. He had already
measured his peril.</p>

<p>Thunderbolt was almost upon him when, with a prick
of the rowels, he whirled Bear Paw aside. The longhorn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>
tore on, the tip of one branching horn missing
Bear Paw by no more than an inch.</p>

<p>Nomad’s rope shot through the air and the noose
dropped on the steer’s head. It seemed as though it must
surely close around the steer’s neck. Thunderbolt, however,
by a flirt of the head, caused the menacing coil to
fall into the trail.</p>

<p>Old Nomad roared in a strange outburst of disgust
and admiration.</p>

<p>“Looket thar! Thunder an’ kerry one! Say, Buffler,
did ye see how he got out from under? Tork erbout
yore knowin’ steers, I reckon he heads the percession.
Watch yer eye! He’s game, an’ he’s comin’ at us ag’in.”</p>

<p>Thunderbolt seemed to have settled on Buffalo Bill as
the one foeman most worthy of his valor. Whirling
around on his hind hoofs, he bellowed and started like
a cyclone for the scout.</p>

<p>Then Nomad, watching with all his eyes, saw something
he had never seen before.</p>

<p>The king of scouts, noose in hand, rushed at Thunderbolt.
Both horseman and steer were going head-on
toward each other, and neither seemed to have the least
notion of dodging.</p>

<p>When they were almost together, Bear Paw, who had
not his equal in all Texas for jumping, went into the air
like a bird suddenly taking wing. He passed clean over
the charging steer, and at the same moment the scout
dropped his own noose.</p>

<p>The stout hempen coil encircled the steer’s neck. The
scout had barely time to halt Bear Paw and turn and
brace the horse for the shock that followed.</p>

<p>The impact, when the rope was all payed out, was
terrific. Bear Paw’s hind hoofs were jerked into the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>
air. What might have happened, had the rope held, is
problematical. But the rope broke from the saddle and
Red Thunderbolt raced on with the loose end flying.</p>

<p>“Waal, sufferin, whipperwills!” boomed the old trapper.
“I never seen ye do nothin’ like thet afore, Buffler!
Et was some great, et was so. An’ Thunderbolt
got enough. He’s sizzlin’ erlong to’rds the open, an’
mighty glad, I opine, ter git erway from sich a jumpin’,
rope-throwin’ pair o’ marvels as you an’ Bear Paw.”</p>

<p>“He’s got my rope!” yelled the scout. “Let’s follow
him!”</p>

<p>With that, both riders raced around the foot of the
hill.</p>

<p>The scout and the trapper were no more than a moment
racing around the foot of the hill; but when the
trail around the turn was before them, there was not a
trace of Red Thunderbolt, and no sign of the man whose
wild shout had first claimed the attention of the pards.</p>

<p>“Hyar’s a go!” muttered Nomad, pulling Hide-rack to
a halt, and screwing up his face into a puzzled frown.
“Whar’d thet steer hike ter, Buffler?”</p>

<p>“He’s made a getaway through some gully,” was
the answer. “I reckon there’s no use hunting for him,
pard. A steer as knowing as he is can be trusted to keep
away from us. That was a good rope of mine,” he added
regretfully. “Thunderbolt must have pulled on it
like a locomotive to tear it away from the saddle.”</p>

<p>“An’ ther ombray thet we heerd a yellin’,” went on
the trapper, “he ain’t eround, nuther. Must be he took
ter his heels as soon as Thunderbolt begun payin’ attention
ter us.”</p>

<p>“The man was on foot,” said the scout, indicating boot-tracks
in the trail. “I don’t blame him for taking to his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>
heels. I’d have done the same, if I’d been in his place.
Still, the fellow might crawl out of his crevice and say
something to us, I should think. If we hadn’t interfered,
the longhorn would have charged him again.”</p>

<p>“Ther feller shot at ther maverick oncet. I heerd the
bark of er gun.”</p>

<p>“So did I. But what good is a revolver against Red
Thunderbolt? There’s not enough powder back of a
revolver bullet to get it through the longhorn’s hide.
I’m beginning to understand, now, why Thunderbolt
has made such a big impression on the Brazos cattlemen.”</p>

<p>“Same hyar.”</p>

<p>Nomad lifted himself in his stirrups and made a trumpet
of his hands; then he yelled for the missing man
who had faced the steer on foot, and fired the revolver.</p>

<p>No answer was returned.</p>

<p>“Don’t bother, Nick,” said the scout. “The fellow
couldn’t have been hurt very much, seeing that he was
able to use his legs and get away. We’ll ride on to
Hackamore.”</p>

<p>The pards thereupon continued their journey in the
direction of town.</p>

<p>The coming interview with Bloom was delicate business.
Diplomacy would be necessary&mdash;diplomacy, backed
by nerve.</p>

<p>As peacemaker, however, the scout felt that a truce
must be patched up with Bloom.</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar was in Hackamore, hiring cowboys and
buying supplies for the ranch. He had gone on this
errand once before, only to be interrupted by a plot of
Benner’s that had well-nigh turned out disastrously.</p>

<p>“How ye goin’ erbout et ter tork with Bloom?” asked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>
Old Nomad, as he and the scout galloped onward, stirrup
to stirrup.</p>

<p>“We’ve got to handle him with gloves, I reckon,” answered
the scout.</p>

<p>“He ort ter be handled with the buckskin end of er
quirt,” growled the trapper.</p>

<p>“That’s right, Nick. But now that Benner has been
properly disciplined, I’m in hopes that Bloom will see
things differently. We can’t leave this part of Texas
until we patch up a peace between Bloom and the ranchers
at the Star-A. There must be peace all up and down
the Brazos when we leave the river.”</p>

<p>“I’m more of er hand fer distarbin’ ther peace, Buffler,
than fer makin’ et. Thar’s er heap more excitement
in diggin’ up the hatchet than in buryin’ et.”</p>

<p>“Bosh!” laughed the scout. “Nick, you and I never
went into a job yet without having for our end and aim
the establishment of peace and security. Drastic measures
are sometimes necessary in order to smooth the
kinks out of law and order.”</p>

<p>“H’m,” muttered Nomad. “I reckon I think too much
o’ ther fightin’ end. In smoothin’ out kinks, I’d ruther
land on ’em with both feet, with a gun in each fist. Rubbin’
the tangles out with love pats an’ coo-coo words is
some more’n I kin do. Thar’s erbout as much sentiment
in me as thar is in er horn toad. Anyways, this hyar
di-plom-a-cy&mdash;is thet what ye call et?&mdash;ain’t wuth er
whoop ef it ain’t backed by narve. By ther same token,
what good’s narve ef ye ain’t got a leetle hardware
tucked away up yore sleeve?”</p>

<p>The scout laughed again.</p>

<p>“I reckon we’ll have excitement enough to please you
before we’re done with the Brazos,” said he, “but it’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>
only going to be incidental to the main question of
peace.”</p>

<p>The trapper chuckled, fancying he was catching Buffalo
Bill’s drift.</p>

<p>“We’ll make peace, Buffler,” he declared, “ef we hev
ter shoot holes in every bloomin’ statute of ther State
o’ Texas!”</p>

<p>“Not so bad as that. We’re backing up the law,
Nick. Bloom hasn’t been looking after the law as he
was sworn to do.”</p>

<p>“Nary, he hasn’t. Ef he don’t do his duty, we’ll climb
his neck an’ choke him till he sees et right an’ promises
ter be good. Oh, I dunno. I reckon bein’ peacemaker
kerries plenty o’ blue-fire trimmin’s. I knowed er feller,
up in the Niobrara kentry, called Piegan Charlie.
Charlie went an’ took an’ got married. I was lopin’ past
his wickiup one day, an’ I found him an’ Mrs. Charlie
engaged in er argyment. Charlie was pushin’ Mrs.
Charlie agin’ the side o’ the house, an’ argyin’ with a
broomstick. I got all worked up with er fool desire ter
be one o’ these hyar peacemakers. Thet’s what I did.
So, like er ijut, I drapped off’n my hoss, caught Charlie
by the scruff o’ the neck, an’ throwed him inter a rainwater
bar’l. While I was prancin’ eround an’ yellin’ fer
peace an’ domestic quiet, Mrs. Charlie come up behind
me an’ rapped me over the head with er washboard.
She screeched out thet I hadn’t no bizness meddlin’ with
her husband er distarbin’ ther fambly. When Charlie
got out o’ the bar’l, he begun shootin’ at me. So I loped
on, sadder an’ a heap wiser.”</p>

<p>By the time the scout had finished enjoying his pard’s
reminiscence, they were in Hackamore.</p>

<p>There was quite a crowd collected around the front of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>
the Delmonico, peering curiously through the open door
of the office and the office windows.</p>

<p>“Somethin’ goin’ on, an’ I’ll bet er blue stack,” muttered
Nomad.</p>

<p>“Looks like it,” the scout answered.</p>

<p>“What’s up, Pinkey?” queried the trapper, as the man
in charge of the corral came to look after their riding
gear.</p>

<p>“Dunno,” answered Pinkey. “Thar’s so much goin’
on in this man’s town et’s hard ter keep track o’ all the
doin’s. Mebby a dog fight, er a man fight&mdash;thar ain’t
much diff’rence when it comes ter rowdyin’.”</p>

<p>At this point a lanky individual, who had seen the
pards ride up to the corral, hurried toward the group by
the corral gate.</p>

<p>“Buffler Bill! Buffler Bill!” the man cried.</p>

<p>“Et’s Sim Pierce, thet’s who et is,” said Nomad, recognizing
the approaching man. “What’s agitatin’ ye,
Sim?”</p>

<p>“Row on in the orfice o’ the Delmonico,” panted Sim
Pierce. “Jake Phelps, Hank’s cousin er somethin’, is
rowin’ it with Nate Dunbar. I reckon ye kin stop it,
muy pronto, Buffler Bill. Hustle in an’ stop ’em afore
they git ter drorin’ hardware an’ throwin’ lead.”</p>

<p>The scout started for the office at a run.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE QUARREL.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The scout reached the door of the office, only to be
grabbed by one of the men who had been standing there
and looking in, but who had now retired with others to a
safer position.</p>

<p>“Keep away!” breathed the man. “They’ve got their
shooters out, an’ there’ll be fireworks in a brace o’ shakes.
If you go in there you’ll be right in the middle of the
celebration.”</p>

<p>“That’s where I want to be,” answered the scout,
shaking the hand from his arm, “and I want to get in
there before the celebration begins.”</p>

<p>He stepped to the door and looked in.</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar and Jake Phelps were standing no more
than a dozen feet apart, Phelps with his back to the
counter and Dunbar across the room.</p>

<p>Furious anger burned in the face of Jake Phelps. In
Dunbar’s face there was only determination&mdash;but it was
deadly.</p>

<p>Each man held a revolver in his right hand, and each
watched like a cat for the first move of the other to
lift his weapon. Only a hair’s breadth separated these
men from rash and ugly work.</p>

<p>Without a moment’s hesitation, Buffalo Bill sprang
into the room and placed himself squarely between Dunbar
and Jake Phelps.</p>

<p>“I reckon this has gone far enough,” said he curtly.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span></p>

<p>“Buffalo Bill!” exclaimed Dunbar. “Get away, amigo,
and give me my chance at that hound!”</p>

<p>Dunbar’s voice, husky with pent-up passion, rang surprisingly
in the scout’s ears. He had not much time to
remark upon the depth of the young rancher’s feeling,
however, before his keen eye caught a hostile move of
Jake Phelps’ right hand.</p>

<p>In the wizardry of six-shooter practice, Buffalo Bill
was second to none. Jake Phelps was perhaps a fraction
of a second in lifting his revolver, yet, in that brief
period of time, the scout had drawn&mdash;not only his own
revolver, but also a very effectual “bead.”</p>

<p>“Down with that hand!” he ordered. “Don’t you dare
say no to me!”</p>

<p>The compelling voice of the scout, no less than the
bewildering magic that loaded his right hand with a
six-shooter, caused Jack Phelps to gasp. From sheer
amazement he suffered the hand to drop.</p>

<p>“That’s right,” said the scout, “but see that you keep
that hand where it is. Just remember, Jake Phelps, that
what I miss in the original deal I always make up in the
draw. You’re a friend of mine, Nate?”</p>

<p>He kept his back to Dunbar and his eyes on Phelps as
he asked the question.</p>

<p>“Great guns,” cried the young rancher, “don’t I owe
you about everything I’ve got in the world?”</p>

<p>“I wouldn’t put it so strong as that, Nate,” said the
scout, with a quiet laugh. “If you’re my friend, though,
you’ll put up your gun. I’ll guarantee that Jake Phelps
doesn’t take any advantage of you.”</p>

<p>“But you don’t understand&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“I’m going to understand all about this before I get<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>
through. In the meantime, you’ll please understand that
I have requested you to put up your revolver.”</p>

<p>“She’s up,” said Dunbar promptly.</p>

<p>“Buenos! Now, Nate, kindly talk at the back of my
head and tell me the cause of this flare-up.”</p>

<p>Old Nomad was standing in the door, leaning negligently
against the door casing and fanning himself with
his hat. Pard Buffler was “on the job,” and the trapper
realized that there wasn’t any cause for any one to worry.
But that peacemaker racket, while all right in its way,
wasn’t making much of a hit with Nomad.</p>

<p>“I was sitting here minding my own business,” said
Dunbar, “when Jake Phelps came in. He began saying
things to r’ile me. His palaver wasn’t thrown at me,
but was fired at the clerk. I allowed him to talk about
me as much as he pleased, but when he turned his dirty
tongue loose on Dick Perry, then on you, and, at the last,
dragged in the name of my wife, my patience had
reached the limit. He’s a low-down whelp!”</p>

<p>“What did he say about me?” inquired the scout.</p>

<p>“He said you were a meddler in other men’s affairs
and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Which was the truth, in a way.”</p>

<p>“It wasn’t so much what he said about you as the
way he said it.”</p>

<p>In the West there are some things a man has to say
with a smile&mdash;if he would avoid gun play.</p>

<p>“Anything else, Nate?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“Well, he remarked that Dick Perry was a blackguard
an&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Waugh!” came from the door. “Did he refer ter me
with any o’ his fool talk, Nate?”</p>

<p>“No.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p>

<p>“I’m relieved a hull lot,” grinned the trapper. “Ef
he’d er called me a goat, er somethin’ like thet, I mout
hev shot him up.”</p>

<p>“Got anything to tell us, Jake?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“Well, yes,” answered Jake; “you fellers over at the
Star-A ranch are a lot of measley tin horns. You can
put up a good front, but your work is all rhinecaboo.
I rode into town after the H-P pay-roll, and strolled in
here to stuff the coin into my saddlebags. I saw Dunbar.
What I said, I said so as to show this town he ain’t half
a man.” Jake Phelps laughed, and looked around in a
cheap attempt at bravado. “He dassen’t fight. Everybody
can see that.”</p>

<p>“Anybody can see with half an eye that Nate Dunbar
has you beat a mile in everything that makes a man a
man. You’re nine-tenths pure guff, Jake, and the other
tenth is just plain dog.”</p>

<p>The scout put up his revolver. Phelps was still armed,
but the scout looked him squarely in the eye and he made
no attempt to use his weapon.</p>

<p>“You’ve got your pay-roll money, have you?” went
on Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>“What business is that of&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“That’s going far enough. I’ll give you five minutes
to get out of town.”</p>

<p>“Ho!” glowered Jake. “You the boss of this town?
You got <ins class="corr" id="tn228" title="Transcriber’s Note—“more ter say about things in Haokamore” changed to “more ter say about things in Hackamore”.">more ter say about things in Hackamore</ins>
than the sheriff?”</p>

<p>“Never mind that. If you’re not out of town in five
minutes, I’ll go gunning for you myself.”</p>

<p>“I’ll take a shot at that meachin’ whelp behind you
yet!” gritted Jake. “He can’t make any dead-set at me
without getting all that’s coming. I’ll have his scalp,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>
that’s what I’ll have. I’m going to make a widder of
Mrs. Dunbar, and then Lige Benner&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout jumped at Phelps, grabbed him by the shoulders,
and flung him bodily toward the door. Old Nomad
stepped aside and helped him out of the room with a
kick. The clerk, who had been on hands and knees behind
the counter, carried out Phelps’ saddlebags and
threw them after him.</p>

<p>From the hitching pole, where his horse was tied, Jake
Phelps swore and howled his threats.</p>

<p>“I’ll square up with you for all this, my buck!”
shouted Nate Dunbar, from a window.</p>

<p>“You’ll have to get Buffalo Bill’s permission to call
your soul your own before you do,” taunted Jake, tying
the bags to the saddle, mounting, and spurring away.</p>

<p>Dunbar turned to the scout with a gloomy face.</p>

<p>“Amigo,” said he, “it would have been better if you’d
let me had it out with that skunk.”</p>

<p>“There was nothing to the row, Nate,” the scout answered.
“Phelps has had too much red eye, and you lost
your temper too easily. Have you finished your work
here?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Then you’d better ride for the Star-A ranch, Nate.
And don’t forget yourself and take the trail to the
Phelps outfit.”</p>

<p>“You know me too well for that,” answered the young
rancher. “When I say I’ll do a thing don’t I generally
do it?”</p>

<p>“You do,” returned the scout gravely, “and that’s what
makes Nate Dunbar stack up so high with me. You’ll
leave Jake Phelps alone?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span></p>

<p>“Thet’s ther tork, pard,” approved old Nomad. “Even
a measley, no-’count yaller pup like Jake Phelps kin
shoot. It would be tough on that Hattie girl if you was
wiped out. Go home, Nate, an’ tell ’em out thar ter the
ranch thet Buffler an’ Pard Nomad hev struck town and
aire already at their peacemakin’.”</p>

<p>Nate pricked up his ears.</p>

<p>“I was wondering why you were here,” said he.</p>

<p>“We’ve come to see Bloom, the sheriff.”</p>

<p>“Bloom’s travelin’ this-a-way as fast as his legs kin
kerry him,” spoke up Nomad, taking a squint through
the door and up the street.</p>

<p>“Then here’s where I pull out,” said Nate. “There’s
no love lost between Bloom and me, and if I met him
now and he gave me any of his back talk, the fur would
fly. Be back to the ranch soon, Buffalo Bill?”</p>

<p>“To-morrow, I hope.”</p>

<p>Dunbar left the hotel by a rear door. Old Nomad,
with a queer grin on his weather-beaten face, pushed
into the office and dropped on a chair.</p>

<p>“Now fer more peacemakin’,” he remarked, “an’ from
ther looks o’ ther sher’ff, I reckon et’ll be real saloobrious.
I’m fixin’ ter enjoy what’s comin’, I am so.”</p>

<p>“There’ll be no trouble,” said the scout, himself taking
a seat.</p>

<p>“Waal, ef thar is, I shore reckon they’ll hev ter git
another sher’ff ter bloom in this man’s berg.”</p>

<p>A moment later the sheriff rushed into the room. He
was at white heat, and the looks he threw at the scout
and the trapper were anything but reassuring.</p>

<p>The crowd outside once more clustered about the open
door and the windows. There was to be something more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>
doing, and each spectator held his breath and watched
and listened.</p>

<p>“Somebody said there was a row here,” growled
Bloom. “I heard up the street that Jake Phelps an’ that
pesky trouble maker, Nate Dunbar, was roughin’ it with
each other.”</p>

<p>The sheriff was addressing himself to the hotel clerk,
but Buffalo Bill took it upon himself to answer.</p>

<p>“They didn’t get so far as an exchange of shots,
sheriff. I happened in, just as the affair began to look
serious, and ordered Jake Phelps out of town.”</p>

<p>Bloom had whirled away on his heel as soon as the
scout began to speak; then, suddenly changing his mind,
he whirled back when he had finished.</p>

<p>“You ordered him out o’ town?” he scowled.</p>

<p>“Oh, yes,” answered the scout passively. “If they had
both stayed in town there would have been trouble.”</p>

<p>“Tell me this, you who make yourself so high and
mighty wherever you happen to plant yourself: What
business you got orderin’ anybody out o’ Hackamore?”</p>

<p>A glimmer arose in the scout’s eyes.</p>

<p>“Well,” said he, “if you come to simmer it down to a
fine point, I was doing business that you ought to have
been around here to attend to.”</p>

<p>“You my deperty?” flared Bloom; “have I ever asked
you to help me?”</p>

<p>“No, Bloom; I sort of asked myself.”</p>

<p>“You take my advice, Cody, and keep hands off my
work. You and I have come together once, and if that
ever happens again, sparks are sure goin’ to fly.”</p>

<p>There was only the clerk in the office, apart from the
scout, the trapper, and the sheriff. The spectators kept<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>
outside, confining their view of what was going on to the
open door and the windows.</p>

<p>“Right here, then,” said Buffalo Bill, “is where the
sparks begin to fly.” He turned to the trapper. “As it
may get rather hot for some of the people outside, Nick,”
he added, “you’d better close the door.”</p>

<p>“On ther jump, pard,” carolled Nomad.</p>

<p>The trend of affairs was vastly to his liking.</p>

<p>“Leave that door open!” snarled the sheriff.</p>

<p>Nomad’s answer was to slam the door, turn around,
and put his back to it.</p>

<p>“How does thet hit ye?” he asked truculently.</p>

<p>“There’s more’n one door,” grunted the sheriff, moving
toward the dining-room entrance.</p>

<p>The scout got up and barred the way in that direction.
For an instant the sheriff glared, one hand half starting
toward his hip.</p>

<p>“I have only the most peaceable intentions, Bloom,”
said the scout, as pleasantly as possible. “There’s a little
matter I want to talk over with you.”</p>

<p>“There ain’t any matter, little or big, that I want to
talk over with you,” snapped Bloom.</p>

<p>“This has to do with your business. From what you’ve
just been saying, you’re mighty particular to attend to
your own business, seems to me.”</p>

<p>The sheriff grunted and swept his eyes toward the
two windows. In each opening were framed as many
excited faces as could crowd into it. Bloom felt that the
eyes of the town were upon him, that his prestige would
suffer if he did not in some way stir himself.</p>

<p>“Sit down,” proceeded the scout; “have a cigar and
we’ll smoke a talk.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p>

<p>There was a friendly smile on Buffalo Bill’s face as
he held out a weed.</p>

<p>With a muttered oath the sheriff grabbed the cigar,
crushed it in his thick fingers, and flung it in the scout’s
face. A gasp came from the faces in the windows.</p>

<p>“Snarlin’ catermounts!” fumed the trapper. “Ef ye
don’t make him eat thet cigyar ye ain’t no friend o’
mine.”</p>

<p>The scout was still smiling.</p>

<p>“Sit down, Bloom.”</p>

<p>The voice was as soft as velvet, but it cut like steel.</p>

<p>The sheriff invited the scout to go to a warmer region
than the Brazos, and started to brush by in the direction
of the rear door.</p>

<p>Then something happened. It happened with a suddenness
that deceived the eye.</p>

<p>One moment Bloom was pushing for the rear door,
and the next he was sprawled in a chair, and the scout
had the revolver that had been dangling from his belt.</p>

<p>A titter came from the windows, and a whoop from
old Nomad.</p>

<p>“Et ain’t well ter fool with We, Us an’ Comp’ny when
we’re loaded,” exulted the trapper, “er when we’re out
spreadin’ harmony an’ good will up an’ down ther
Brazos.”</p>

<p>The sheriff’s face was as black as a thundercloud. He
realized fully the ignominy of his position&mdash;and, quite as
fully, his own helplessness.</p>

<p>“More of your high-handed proceedings,” he ground
out. “Some day you’ll get jumped on good and proper
for your meddlin’, and after that you’ll ’tend to your
own business an’ let other folks’ business alone.”</p>

<p>“Some day,” said the scout, “but not to-day. Try and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>
be a gentleman, Bloom. I reckon it’ll be hard for you,
but, anyhow, make the effort.”</p>

<p>The sheriff was beside himself with anger; in fact, he
was so wrought up that words failed him. He gurgled
and glared. Old Nomad stood at the door surveying
the sheriff with great satisfaction.</p>

<p>“Ther further we go on this hyar peacemakin’ tour,
Buffler,” he remarked, “ther better I like et.”</p>

<p>“Bloom,” pursued the scout, “a little history has been
made during the last few days, and one detail of it I am
going to offer for your attention. A man by the name
of Ace Hawkins was shot and killed by a fellow calling
himself Red Steve.”</p>

<p>“You can’t tell me a thing I don’t know,” snorted the
sheriff. “Ace Hawkins was a desperado&mdash;he deserved all
he got, no matter who gave it to him.”</p>

<p>“Wrong, in two ways. Hawkins was not a desperado.
He was a man who was doing his best to further the
cause of right and justice. Error number one for you.
Whether or not he deserved the fate that overtook him,
however, need command little of our attention. It was
not Red Steve’s place to hand out his destiny with the
point of a six-shooter. What have you done to apprehend
Red Steve?”</p>

<p>“Nothin’, and I won’t do anythin’.”</p>

<p>“Why not? Aren’t you sworn to look after the law
in this county?”</p>

<p>“It ain’t part o’ my duty to take advice from you.”</p>

<p>“I’m going to tell you a few things, Bloom. Red
Steve works for Lige Benner, and you’ve a notion that
Lige Benner wanted Ace Hawkins sponged off the slate.
You’re a friend of Benner’s. You think it will please
Benner if you don’t take any action against Red Steve.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>
Probably you’re right in your surmise, but you’re ’way
wrong in letting yourself be swayed by your likes and
dislikes in a matter that touches upon your duty as
sheriff. You’d better take my advice and help me and
my pards lay Red Steve by the heels.”</p>

<p>This was straight talk, and as logical as it was straight.
Bloom knew the scout had the right end of the argument,
and he hated to have the men outside hear him
lectured in just that way. The scout had purposely
raised his voice and spoken deliberately and clearly, in
order that his words might carry, and his full meaning
reach the ears of the townspeople.</p>

<p>“Confound you and your advice!” barked Bloom. “I
know what my duty is a heap better’n you, and I’m here
to stand by it.”</p>

<p>“Will you stand by your duty, in this case,” fenced
the scout, “or will you stand by Lige Benner and Red
Steve?”</p>

<p>“I ain’t goin’ to tell you what I’ll do. What’s more,
I’ve got enough o’ this talk.”</p>

<p>“Then you’re going to get more than enough, Bloom,
because I’m not more than half done. In shielding Red
Steve you’re trying to shield Lige Benner. You’re afraid
that if you press matters against Red Steve that it will
be shown that Lige Benner had at least a guilty knowledge
of Red Steve’s murderous intentions against Hawkins.
Isn’t that it?”</p>

<p>Steadily, relentlessly, the sheriff was being forced into
a tight corner. It was like a trial. Bloom, accused of
dereliction of duty, was being catechised by the scout,
and the townspeople outside were the jury. Between
duty and private desire the unfortunate sheriff writhed
and sputtered.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span></p>

<p>“I’m not going to take any more talk from you,” he
shouted. “There’s a hull lot to this Red Steve matter
you don’t know anything about.”</p>

<p>“I know all about it,” declared the scout, “much more,
in fact, than you do.”</p>

<p>“How do you know Red Steve did that shooting?”</p>

<p>“Ace Hawkins said so.”</p>

<p>“That’s what you say,” sneered the sheriff.</p>

<p>“There are others who heard Hawkins make his statement,
and they will bear me out. Wild Bill Hickok,
for one&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“He’s your pard. I wouldn’t believe him any quicker’n
I’d believe you.”</p>

<p>Old Nomad’s gorge was rising. The sheriff was a
coyote, and Buffalo Bill was putting up with too much
from him. He made an attempt to slip in a few words,
but the scout looked toward him and waved him to
silence.</p>

<p>“There’s the sky pilot, Jordan,” went on the scout.
“He’ll back up my statement. I reckon there’s not a
man on the Brazos who would refuse to believe the sky
pilot.”</p>

<p>This statement rather floored the sheriff.</p>

<p>“When the sky pilot talks to me,” said he, “then I’ll
know what to think, but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>Just here the door opened at old Nomad’s back. He
turned quickly to deny the newcomer entrance, but recoiled
when he saw who was coming into the office.</p>

<p>“Benner!” exclaimed old Nomad, wondering what this
new move was to signify.</p>

<p>“Benner!” cried Bloom, jumping to his feet.</p>

<p>Benner pushed on into the room and came to a halt
within a short distance of the scout.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span></p>

<p>“Yes, Benner,” said the cattle baron. “I’ve come
here to say that Buffalo Bill is right. Red Steve was
the man who did the trick for Ace Hawkins. Is that
enough for you, Bloom?”</p>

<p>The scout was surprised by this totally unexpected
coming of Lige Benner&mdash;surprised, perhaps, far more by
his appearance and his words than by the mere fact of
his presence.</p>

<p>There was a haggard, careworn look in Benner’s face&mdash;an
earnestness in his manner that contrasted strongly
with his spectacular attire.</p>

<p>If the scout was surprised by Benner’s words, the
sheriff seemed even more so. He stared.</p>

<p>“Come again with that, Benner,” said he.</p>

<p>“I’ve been standing outside listening to what was going
on in here,” continued Benner. “The time came
when I thought I ought to take part in the talk. Red
Steve is guilty of shooting Ace Hawkins. I had nothing
to do with the crime, and knew nothing about it until
it was accomplished. Both men worked for me. Red
Steve himself told me he was guilty, and tried to find
excuse for what he had done by saying that Ace Hawkins
was a traitor, that he was working for me and
trying to help Perry and Dunbar. That, of course, was
no excuse at all. I told him he would have to come to
Hackamore and stand trial. It was my intention to
bring him myself, but he escaped on foot from the
ranch and, at the present moment, is somewhere on the
Brazos, a fugitive. I rode to town to get you to take up
the pursuit of Red Steve. It’s up to you, Bloom.”</p>

<p>Lige Benner dropped wearily into a chair and drew
one hand across his forehead. Bloom continued to stare
at him, Nomad regarded him with suspicion, and only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>
the scout&mdash;adept at reading motives in a man’s face&mdash;gave
him approval.</p>

<p>“That’s the talk, Benner!” the scout exclaimed.</p>

<p>“Don’t ye bank too much on his tork, Buffler,” put in
the old trapper. “Lige Benner is tricky; he’s showed
himself ter be a snake in the grass right along; an’ how
d’ye know he ain’t got somethin’ up his sleeve right
now? Don’t give him a chance ter trap ye.”</p>

<p>Benner flung himself around in his chair, but the fierce
protest faded from his face as he looked at Nomad.</p>

<p>“I’ve made mistakes, I reckon,” said Benner slowly,
“a lot of ’em, but I’m not making any mistake now, old
Nomad, and don’t you make any. I’m tired of this
squabbling in the cattle country. I’ll admit I never liked
Perry or Dunbar. They blew in here and spoiled one
of the objects I had set my heart on achieving. I did
everything I could to carry out that object, but the scout
and his pards made that impossible; then, listening to
advisers, I set out to secure revenge. There I failed
again. My hands are in the air. Now I want Red
Steve captured, so it can be proved that I had nothing
to do with what happened to Ace Hawkins.”</p>

<p>“If he’s captured,” returned the scout, “are you willing
to cry quits in this fight on Perry and Dunbar?
Will you be for peace in the cattle country, Benner?”</p>

<p>“I’m for peace now,” was the reply; “if I hadn’t been
I shouldn’t have come here as I did to-day.”</p>

<p>“I believe you,” said the scout quietly. “Have you
any idea where Red Steve can be found, or what he intends
to do?”</p>

<p>“If he is hunted for at once, he’ll be found somewhere
on the Brazos. He got away, as I said, on foot.
Since he has no horse, about the first move he makes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>
will be to get a mount somewhere. After he does that
it will be hard to capture him. He knows this country
like a book, and he’ll hole himself away where he’ll never
be found.”</p>

<p>“My pards are looking for Red Steve on the river,”
proceeded the scout. “If he’s there, you can gamble that
they’ll find him.”</p>

<p>“I’ve sent out some of my cowboys to prosecute the
search. Between them and your pards, Buffalo Bill, the
chances seem pretty fair for taking the scoundrel. You
understand my attitude? There may be a suspicion that
I was back of Red Steve in the shooting of Ace Hawkins.
I want that suspicion brushed aside and my entire
innocence made clear. Red Steve is the one to do this.
Whatever else I have done, I’ve never tried to get any
man’s blood on my hands. I’ve gone far in this war
with Perry and Dunbar, but never so far as that.”</p>

<p>A sneer curled Bloom’s lip as he gazed at Benner.</p>

<p>“Lost your nerve, have you?” he rasped.</p>

<p>Benner lifted his eyes to Bloom’s.</p>

<p>“You’ll find,” said he, “that I have plenty of nerve
to avenge any insult you heave at me. Walk softly,
Bloom, when you’re going over my feet. That’s my
advice to you. So far as Dunbar and Perry are concerned.
I’ve buried the hatchet; but, so far as you are
concerned, I’ll dig it up if you give me half a chance.
Spread your blankets and go to sleep on that.”</p>

<p>Benner’s spirit was not broken. There was plenty of
snap and ginger in his words. It was clear to the scout
that the cattle baron was swerved by only one motive,
and that was to have Red Steve captured, so that the
owner of the Circle-B ranch would be cleared of the
taking off of Ace Hawkins.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span></p>

<p>The capture of Red Steve, therefore, had become a
factor in the business Buffalo Bill was so anxious to
accomplish&mdash;the peace of the Brazos country.</p>

<p>“I’m mighty glad,” scowled Bloom, in no wise relishing
the manner of the cattle baron, “that Hank Phelps
is still got the nerve to hold his grudge against Perry
and Dunbar.”</p>

<p>“Don’t be too sure of that,” said Benner. “Phelps
is a friend of mine, and I’m going to see him to-morrow.
I think he’ll promise to coöperate with me in establishing
peace on the Brazos. He’s about as tired of these
foolish squabbles as I am.”</p>

<p>He got up and moved toward the door.</p>

<p>“We’re on good terms now, Buffalo Bill?” he asked,
halting at the threshold.</p>

<p>“Yes,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>“Well, I’ve gone on record. All these men”&mdash;he
waved his hand toward the faces in the windows&mdash;“are
witnesses. From now on, Perry and Dunbar will receive
from me the same treatment other ranchers on the
river give each other. That shot goes as it lays.”</p>

<p>He left the hotel, and could be seen making his way
through the crowd in front.</p>

<p>“Gi’me that gun!” snapped Bloom, stretching out his
hand to the scout.</p>

<p>The weapon was handed over without comment. Then
Bloom himself started for the door.</p>

<p>“Has he got the right ter leave, Buffler?” asked
Nomad.</p>

<p>The scout nodded. The trapper stepped aside, and
Bloom flung out of the office. Nomad came over and
dropped down in a chair beside the scout.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” he muttered. “Blamed ef we didn’t git<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>
out o’ thet without er fight. I never thort we would,
one spell. But I ain’t takin’ none too much stock in this
hyar flop o’ Benner’s. Et’s too suddent.”</p>

<p>“Benner’s all right, Nick,” averred Buffalo Bill, with
confidence.</p>

<p>“Shore he ain’t figgerin’ on somethin’?”</p>

<p>“I’m sure he is figuring on something. The shooting
of Ace Hawkins might have far-reaching results for
him; so he wants Red Steve captured, so he can be forced
to tell the truth.”</p>

<p>“Sufferin’ twisters! Why, Benner hired Red Steve in
the fust place bekase he was a desperado, an’ willin’ ter
do any leetle job a honest cowpuncher might shy around.
Now thet Red Steve’s done jest what Benner mout hev
knowed he’d do, Benner gits what looks like an attack
o’ narves. I kain’t b’leeve in et, not complete.”</p>

<p>“I never thought Benner was so desperate as some
folks tried to make out,” Buffalo Bill answered. “He
has his good points, Nick.”</p>

<p>“Up ter now,” said Nomad dryly, “he’s been purty successful
keepin’ his good p’ints buried out o’ sight. But
I’m s’prised at one thing.”</p>

<p>“What’s that?”</p>

<p>“Why, Bloom an’ Benner ain’t the team I thort they
was. They ain’t pullin’ tergether like they was well
matched.”</p>

<p>“It looks as though we’d been a little wide of our
trail, old pard,” said the scout. “We’ve been thinking,
all along, that Bloom, by his ugly actions, was trying to
keep on the right side of Lige Benner. I think, come
to sift the reasons close to bed rock, that Bloom is in
the game against Perry and Dunbar just because he
hates the Star-A ranchers. He’s taken a dislike to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>
them&mdash;to Nate in particular&mdash;and that’s why he acts as
he does.”</p>

<p>“Mebbyso. He’s ’er whelp. He’d do a heap ter land
on Nate somehow. I’m bettin’&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>A pounding of hoofs out in front, suddenly brought
to a stop, a concerted rush of the men around the hotel
toward the hitching pole, and a wild voice suddenly
lifted, caused the old trapper to break off his remarks.
The voice, husky with excitement, floated into the office
through the open front door.</p>

<p>“Where’s a doctor? I want a doctor on the jump!”</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill and old Nomad, at this startling summons,
left their chairs and went to the door.</p>

<p>A cowboy, his horse lathered and panting painfully,
was at a halt before the hotel. A crowd of curious men
surrounded him.</p>

<p>“I’ll go fer a doctor,” said Sim Pierce, and hustled
off without waiting for further news.</p>

<p>“What’s the matter?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“I was lopin’ inter town with a pard,” replied the
cowboy, “when we found Jake Phelps’ hoss, without no
saddle, runnin’ to’rds ther ranch. A mile farder we
found Jake hisself, layin’ face down in the trail. He
come in arter the pay-rool money, an’ the money was
gone. Jake was about gone, too, an’ he may be clean
gone by now. I left Jeems with him, while I hit the
breeze fer a sawbones. We gotter have the doc in er
hurry, an’ mebby it won’t do no good at that.”</p>

<p>This news hit the scout between the eyes. Already
the bystanders were exchanging significant glances.</p>

<p>The scout grabbed Nomad’s arm and pulled him back
into the office.</p>

<p>“This looks bad, pard,” he whispered.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span></p>

<p>“Ye don’t think Nate had anythin’ ter do with what
happened ter Jake Phelps?” gasped the old trapper.</p>

<p>“Certainly not, but there are others who’ll think so&mdash;after
what happened between Nate and Jake Phelps here
in Hackamore. Take my word for it, Bloom will be the
first one to voice the suspicion.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.<br />
<span class="fs70">SIM PIERCE BRINGS NEWS.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The cowboy jumped from his weary horse, loosened
the cinches to give the animal’s lungs greater freedom,
and came into the office to wait for the doctor.</p>

<p>The cowboy was excited, and tramped up and down,
rolling a cigarette.</p>

<p>“You’re from Hank Phelps’ ranch?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“That’s me,” was the answer. “My name’s Quiller,
an’ I’ve worked fer Hank for two years. He’s all right,
Hank is.”</p>

<p>“How was Jake Phelps hurt?”</p>

<p>“Looks like he’d been hit on the head with a club er
somethin’.”</p>

<p>“Then he wasn’t shot?”</p>

<p>“Not as Jeems an’ me could see. But I didn’t tarry
long arter we found Jake; I jest hustled right in arter
the doc. There was some queer things about Jake’s fix.
The feller that swiped the pay-roll money took Jake’s
saddle along. What’s this I hear about Jake’s havin’ a
row with Nate Dunbar afore leavin’ fer home?”</p>

<p>“They had some words, Quiller,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>“I’m wonderin’&mdash;I’m wonderin’&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>Quiller was leaning against the counter, holding a
lighted match to his cigarette.</p>

<p>“You’re wondering,” spoke up the scout, “whether
Nate Dunbar had anything to do with what happened to
Jake Phelps. Well, stop your wondering. He didn’t.”</p>

<p>“But the’ was bad blood between ’em, wasn’t they?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>
went on the cowboy, wrinkling his brows. “When they
separated didn’t they both say they’d git even with each
other? An’ didn’t Dunbar hit the trail right arter Jake
did?”</p>

<p>“All that happened, yes. But that doesn’t prove anything
against Nate. I’m rather thinking that it makes
the future dark for Red Steve.”</p>

<p>Old Nomad jumped at that; and Quiller, the match
going out without lighting his cigarette, flung away the
burnt firestick and groped in his pocket for another.</p>

<p>“What about Red Steve?” demanded Quiller.</p>

<p>“He’s loose in the Brazos country,” answered the
scout. “Benner was going to bring him to Hackamore
for the shooting of Ace Hawkins, but Red Steve slipped
away from the Circle-B ranch on foot.”</p>

<p>“On foot, hey? Then why didn’t Red Steve, if he done
this, take Jake’s hoss? Red Steve wouldn’t never hev
let the hoss git away from him arter he had nabbed the
money.”</p>

<p>“Perhaps Red Steve had a horse already,” suggested
the scout. “It’s possible he picked up a horse without
any gear, and that he took the saddle to ride in.”</p>

<p>“It’s possible, I reckon.”</p>

<p>But it was plain that Quiller’s mind was running on
Nate Dunbar. Circumstances seemed to point more decisively
in the direction of the Star-A rancher than toward
Red Steve.</p>

<p>“The man who took the money,” pursued the scout,
noting the trend of the cowboy’s thoughts, “was the man
who look the saddle. Nate Dunbar’s not a thief.”</p>

<p>“It’s hard ter tell what a man is when he makes a
play o’ this kind.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p>

<p>“And certainly Nate wouldn’t take the saddle. Why
should he? He had a good saddle of his own.”</p>

<p>This fact seemed to make some impression on Quiller.
Before he could express himself, however, the doctor
came riding up in front. With the doctor was Bloom
and Sim Pierce, both ready for the trail.</p>

<p>“Come on, you there!” roared Bloom.</p>

<p>Quiller ran out, tightened his cinches, swung into the
saddle, and the four riders fared out of town at a gallop.</p>

<p>“See how it is, Nick?” queried the scout. “Already
suspicion is leveled at Nate Dunbar. You can gamble
that Bloom will do everything possible to make it bad for
the boy. I reckon we had also better be getting saddle
leather between our knees.”</p>

<p>“Ter go whar, Buffler?”</p>

<p>“Why, to the H-P ranch. I want to watch this thing
and find out just what develops. We must keep in
touch with every detail. It’s liable to mean a whole lot
for Nate.”</p>

<p>“Waugh! Ye’re shore right thar. But et’s Red Steve
as turned ther trick, ye kin take et from me. When’ll
we ride?”</p>

<p>“Now.”</p>

<p>“Whoop! When ye tune up like thet, ye shore ketch
me plumb whar I live. Spurs an’ quirts an’ a call on
Hank Phelps. This hyar peace bizness is gittin’ some
excitin’.”</p>

<p>Pinkney brought out their saddles and bridles. Bear
Paw and old Hide-rack seemed surprised at the sudden
getaway. Probably, in their brute minds, they had been
expecting an all-night stay in the comfortable corral.</p>

<p>“It beats the nation,” remarked the scout, when he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>
and his old pard were galloping along the trail, “what
beastly luck comes Nate Dunbar’s way.”</p>

<p>“Some fellers,” commented old Nomad, “tumbles inter
bad luck jest as nacherly as some others tumbles inter
good. Nate’s shore gittin’ his share o’ misfortun’s hyar
on ther Brazos.”</p>

<p>“And to have this happen,” frowned the scout, “just
when we were having such good success as peace commissioners!”</p>

<p>“Ain’t thet allers ther way?” answered the trapper.
“Did we ever start out ter do a sartin thing thet some
other thing didn’t butt in on us? Thet sorter bizness
comes so frequent, Buffler, et ort ter be expected. But,
say!”</p>

<p>“Well?”</p>

<p>“Sarcumstances does look mighty bad for Nate, huh?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Ef Red Steve hes got er hoss, an’ er saddle, an’ a
wad o’ dinero, he won’t hang eround ther Brazos. He’ll
git ter whar he kain’t be found. Then, ef he does thet,
how aire we goin’ ter prove it was him, an’ not Nate,
as done ther trick fer Jake Phelps?”</p>

<p>“It’s a hard proposition we’re facing,” said the scout
gloomily. “But Nate may be able to prove an alibi.”</p>

<p>“How?”</p>

<p>“Oh, in a dozen ways. Suppose he met some one
riding his way? That man might give information that
would clear Nate. We’ve got Nate’s side of this to hear
yet. Just now, it looks as though he and Lige Benner
would have to work shoulder to shoulder.”</p>

<p>“Fer why?”</p>

<p>“Why, because Benner will be suspected of complicity
in what happened to Ace Hawkins, same as Nate will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>
be suspected in the matter of Jake Phelps. The capture
of Red Steve will help out both of them.”</p>

<p>“Thet’s so. A good head is a heap better fer a feller,
any time, than a pair of guns. Let’s don’t fergit thet
Pard Hickok is camped on Red Steve’s trail. Mebby
Hickok hes got hands on Red Steve by this time.”</p>

<p>“I’m hoping he has had some success.” The scout
pointed to a rapidly approaching cloud of dust in advance
of him and Nomad. “Some one coming this way,”
said he.</p>

<p>As the rider approached, and the faint wind whipped
the dust aside, the pards made out that it was Sim
Pierce.</p>

<p>“Sim’s in somethin’ of er hurry,” muttered Nomad.
“What d’ye reckon he’s got on his mind?”</p>

<p>“We’ll know in a few moments,” answered the scout
grimly.</p>

<p>As Sim Pierce’s horse came nose to nose with Bear
Paw and Hide-rack, Sim drew to a halt.</p>

<p>“This here’s luck an’ no mistake!” exclaimed Sim.</p>

<p>“What’s the matter, Pierce?”</p>

<p>“I was pikin’ fer Hackamore ter find ye, Buffler Bill.
Findin’ ye on the trail this-a-way saves considerable
time.”</p>

<p>“What have you to tell me?”</p>

<p>“A hull lot. I don’t know principally whar ter begin.”</p>

<p>“How about Jake?”</p>

<p>“He’s in bad shape, but he ain’t cashed in. They’re
took him on ter the ranch.”</p>

<p>“What does the doctor think?”</p>

<p>“He dunno what ter think. Mebby Jake’ll pull
through, an’ mebby he won’t. An’ nobody knows what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>
ter think about the way he was hurt. ’Pears like some’un
come up behind him an’ hit him over the head with the
handle of a quirt. An’ yit thar’s things about it which
don’t make it look like that, neither.”</p>

<p>“Can’t Jake talk?”</p>

<p>“Nary, he kain’t. He jest lays quiet an’ limp, with
his eyes closed&mdash;more’n two-thirds acrost the divide, if
I’ve got any savvy about sich things. But all this ain’t
what I want ter tell ye.”</p>

<p>“Then get down to cases, Sim,” urged the scout, “if
it’s important.”</p>

<p>“Waal, it sure is important. When Bloom, an’ the
doctor, an’ Quiller, an’ me got ter whar Jeems had Jake
stretched out on the grass, thar was five other cowboys
from the H-P ranch thar. Bloom’s a pill. He’s talkin’
all the time as how it must ’a’ been Nate Dunbar who
done the bizness fer Jake. Them cowboys ketches fire
right off. ‘If Dunbar’s at the Star-A,’ they says, ‘we’ll
git him; an’ he won’t last long when we do git him.’
With that the five of ’em wheels around an’ starts fer
the H-P ranch, ter pick up another bunch o’ punchers,
I opine, an’ ride fer the Star-A ter git Nate. Bloom,
although he’s sher’ff an’ ort ter stand up fer the law,
never says ay, yes, er no ter ’em, but lets ’em go on.
That’s what was kerryin’ me back ter town ter see you,
Buffler Bill. Thar’ll be a swarm o’ H-P cowboys comin’
down on the Star-A folks bymby, an’ somebody like you
ort ter be out thar.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce’s news was intensely disquieting.</p>

<p>“Since Bloom won’t do his duty,” said the scout, “it’s
up to us to take care of Nate. We’ll change our minds
about riding for the H-P ranch, Nick,” he added, “and
strike a bee line for the Star-A.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span></p>

<p>“I’ll go with ye,” declared Sim Pierce. “Mebby ye’re
goin’ ter need me.”</p>

<p>“We may need all the men we can muster,” answered
the scout. “This affair has taken an angle that may
result in a world of trouble for our friends at the
Star-A.”</p>

<p>The horses were turned from the trail and headed
toward another part of the Brazos.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill wished to spare Mrs. Dunbar as much
as possible, so he and the trapper, and Pierce slowed
their gait when close to the ranch and rode up slowly.
They saw Nate out near the corral, heating an iron to
brand a “dogie.” Dick Perry was with Nate. The calf
was bound and lying on the ground, and the two ranchers
were leaning against the corral fence, talking. The
coming of the scout and his companions aroused their
curiosity.</p>

<p>“Well, well!” laughed Nate, “this is almost too good
to be true, Buffalo Bill. I thought you weren’t going
to get back here before to-morrow?”</p>

<p>“Something has happened that brought me here,
Nate,” answered the scout, dismounting and turning
Bear Paw over to Nomad to be cared for.</p>

<p>“You’ve been riding pretty fast, it looks like,” spoke
up Perry.</p>

<p>There was anxiety in his voice. Ever since he had
been fighting the cattle barons, he had never known
when or how the lightning was going to strike. Very
little was needed to arouse his apprehensions.</p>

<p>“I was in a hurry, Perry,” the scout answered. “Nate,”
and he turned to the younger of the two ranchers,
“what did you do on the way back from town?”</p>

<p>“Do?” echoed Dunbar; “why, I just rode. What else<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>
was there to do? I picked up that stray calf on the way,
and snaked it along for the last mile. You’ve got me
guessing, Buffalo Bill. What’s gone crossways?”</p>

<p>“Did you ride the Star-A trail all the way?” asked the
scout.</p>

<p>“Didn’t I tell you I would?”</p>

<p>“Yes. You didn’t follow Jake Phelps, did you?”</p>

<p>Protest flashed in Nate’s eyes.</p>

<p>“What’s the use of asking me such a question,
amigo?” he demanded. “A promise to you is a promise.
I haven’t seen Jake Phelps since he rode away from the
front of the hotel.”</p>

<p>“I could have made affidavit to that!” exclaimed the
scout, with a feeling of relief.</p>

<p>“But what’s this all about?” put in Perry.</p>

<p>“Well, Jake Phelps was badly hurt on the way from
Hackamore to the H-P ranch. Two cowboys, coming
into town from the ranch, found his horse, racing for
home without a saddle. A little farther along the trail
they found Nate, saddle and money gone, sprawled out
on the ground.”</p>

<p>Perturbation was written large in the faces of Dunbar
and Perry. They stared at the scout and then at each
other. For a moment no one spoke.</p>

<p>“Was&mdash;was he killed?” asked Nate finally, moistening
his dry lips with his tongue.</p>

<p>“No,” said the scout, “but he was in pretty bad shape.
The doctor doesn’t know whether he’ll pull through or
not. The worst part of it is, he’s unconscious and can’t
tell what happened to him. The longer he remains unconscious,
Nate,” the scout answered kindly, “the worse
it becomes for you. Of course, none of us believes you
had anything to do with what happened, but Bloom is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>
no friend of yours, and Bloom is with the H-P outfit
now.”</p>

<p>Again was there a silence. Nate threw a look toward
the house where his bride of a few days was busy with
her household work. His lips twitched. Presently he
pulled his revolver from its holster and handed it out to
Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>“Examine that, amigo,” he begged. “Every chamber
is loaded&mdash;not a bullet missing. I haven’t touched the
gun since I put it up in the office of the Delmonico
Hotel.”</p>

<p>The scout waved the weapon away.</p>

<p>“Your bare word is enough for me,” said he, “and for
the rest of your friends. Anyhow, Nate, it wasn’t a
bullet that caused the trouble for Jake Phelps.”</p>

<p>“What was it?”</p>

<p>“The handle of a quirt, or a club of some sort.”</p>

<p>“I hadn’t a quirt with me,” protested Nate. “As for
a club&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>He changed ends with the revolver and looked at the
handgrip absently.</p>

<p>“This,” said he, “is the only club I could have used.
Does it look as though I had used it?”</p>

<p>He held it up.</p>

<p>“This is tough,” muttered Perry. “If it isn’t one
thing with us, it’s another, right along. My boy,” and he
laid a hand on Nate’s shoulder, “that quarrel with Jake
Phelps was bad business for you.”</p>

<p>From this it appeared that Nate had already told
Perry of what had taken place in the hotel office.</p>

<p>“A quarrel of any kind is always bad business,”
dropped in the scout, “but what makes this particularly
bad for Nate is the fact that Jake was knocked down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>
and robbed on the trail. There are those in town who
overheard the last words spoken by Nate and Jack
Phelps. Those last words were threats. Nate left town
very soon after Jake rode away. That also is known.”</p>

<p>Anger rose in Dunbar’s eyes and flamed in his face.</p>

<p>“But who dares call me a thief?” he cried. “If I followed
Jack Phelps to have it out with him, would I
have taken his dirty money? Would I have used a club
when I had a gun handy? As a matter of fact, could I
have got close enough to him to use a club before he
would have sent a bullet into me? Why don’t people
use a little reason? Great guns! They might give me
credit for not being such a fool!”</p>

<p>“Maybe Lige Benner is back of this in some way?”
suggested Perry.</p>

<p>“No,” said the scout, “Benner is not back of it,” and
he went on to tell how the owner of the Circle-B ranch
had come to the hotel and made his peace with the
Star-A ranchers through the scout.</p>

<p>This line of talk brought Red Steve prominently to
the fore.</p>

<p>“Et was Red Steve as done et,” declared the old trapper.
“He laid fer Jake. Mebbyso he knowed Jake had
the pay-roll money. Red was plannin’ ter git out o’ the
kentry, an’ the money would shore come handy fer him.”</p>

<p>“It was Red Steve!” declared Perry.</p>

<p>“Admitting that it was Red Steve,” said Dunbar, “the
same thing would apply to him that applied to me. How
could he ever get close enough to Jake to hit him over
the head with a club. It don’t sound reasonable.
There’s something more back of it.”</p>

<p>“It all depends,” qualified the scout, “on the lay of
the land at the place where the attack on Jake was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>
made. If there were bushes where Red Steve could lie
concealed&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Thar warn’t,” spoke up Pierce. “It was flat kentry,
whar the attack was made, an’ nothin’ but grass. Thar
warn’t no place whar a feller could hide. How Red
Steve ever done it is a myst’ry, but he sure done it
someway.”</p>

<p>“It was Red Steve, of course,” averred Buffalo Bill.
“Where are the rest of my pards, Perry?”</p>

<p>“They’re out looking for Red Steve,” answered Perry;
“they left pretty soon after you struck out for town.”</p>

<p>“The baron and Little Cayuse went with them?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Then we are short-handed and no mistake,” muttered
the scout.</p>

<p>“Short-handed for what?” asked Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Tell him, Sim,” said Buffalo Bill, “just as you told
me.”</p>

<p>Sim Pierce told about the five cowboys who had
started back to Phelps’ ranch with the evident intention
of increasing their numbers and coming to the Star-A
after Nate. Dunbar’s face blanched. But it was not
fear for himself that suddenly raced through him. He
was thinking of Hattie.</p>

<p>“Dick,” said he, turning to his father-in-law, “you
take Hattie at once and go with her to some safe place
where&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“No,” interrupted Perry, his face set and hard, “Hattie
and I will stay right here. If the H-P cowboys come
they’ll find us at home. Hattie can use a gun as well as
anybody, and there’ll be trouble if the Phelps outfit try
to take you out of the house.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span></p>

<p>Old Nomad walked over to Perry and gripped his
hand.</p>

<p>“Perry,” he said approvingly, “ye’re the clear quill. I
allers knowed et, but ther fact never stuck out o’ ye
same as now. We’re all goin’ ter stand by Nate. I’m
only sorry a heap thet Wild Bill, the baron, an’ Leetle
Cayuse ain’t hyar ter help out. But,” and the old
trapper swept his grim eyes over the group, “we’re quite
er sizeable handful, I reckon.”</p>

<p>“Go in and tell your wife, Nate,” counseled Buffalo
Bill. “She must know all about this, and it’s better to
have it come from you. Tell her not to be alarmed,
for the chances are good that Red Steve is going to be
captured by Wild Bill. Pard Hickok, you know, has
made a vow that he’ll lay Red Steve by the heels. Ace
Hawkins befriended Hickok, and that means that our
pard will do his best to have the law avenge him. The
principal thing is to keep the Phelps outfit from doing
anything rash until Red Steve is located and brought in&mdash;or
until Jake Phelps recovers his wits and tells the
truth about what happened to him.”</p>

<p>Nate started for the house to perform his disagreeable
duty. The scout would have spared Mrs. Dunbar the
details, if he could, but Perry’s decision to stay with her
and see Nate through the gathering storm made it necessary
for the girl to be told everything.</p>

<p>“Nick,” said the scout, “I want you and Pierce to
watch the trails. Get out a little way from the ranch
house, and when you see the cowboys coming, rush in
with the news.”</p>

<p>Nomad and Pierce departed at once. Perry went
thoughtfully over to the fire, picked up the white-hot
branding iron and seared the calf with the Star-A brand;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>
then he released the animal and it darted away into the
timber.</p>

<p>“No matter what happens, Buffalo Bill,” said Perry,
with deep feeling, “your generous aid will always be
remembered and appreciated. What we should have
done without you and your pards, during our troubles
here, is more than I know. But all our other troubles
were small compared with this.”</p>

<p>“You’ll pull through this flare-up with ground to
spare, Perry,” asserted the scout. “Don’t lose your
nerve, now, of all times. I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout broke off abruptly. There was a thump of
hoofs along the trail, swiftly approaching. A moment
later a pinto pony with a small rider broke into sight
and headed for the corral.</p>

<p>“Cayuse!” exclaimed the scout. “This is better than
I hoped for.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.<br />
<span class="fs70">THE MOB FROM PHELPS’ RANCH.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>“How, Pa-e-has-ka?” said Little Cayuse, sliding from
Navi’s back. “You make um heap quick ride to town.”</p>

<p>The sharp-eyed lad saw that there was something
unusual in the wind. A look at the scout’s face, even if
there had been no other evidences of trouble, would have
been enough for him.</p>

<p>“Where are Wild Bill and the baron?” the scout asked.</p>

<p>He was hoping they might be so close that Cayuse
could go after them and get them to the ranch before
H-P outfit arrived.</p>

<p>“All same down river,” reported Cayuse. “Make um
hunt for Red Steve.”</p>

<p>“Are they having any luck?”</p>

<p>“Find um trail, lose um, find um again.”</p>

<p>“They’ve hit Red Steve’s trail, have they?”</p>

<p>“Hit um trail man on foot. Mebbyso Red Steve, mebbyso
somebody else. Quien sabe?”</p>

<p>The boy shrugged his shoulders and grunted.</p>

<p>“How far away are Wild Bill and the baron?”</p>

<p>“Mebbyso ten mile.”</p>

<p>This was too far. The scout could not send Cayuse
after his missing pards with any hope that they would
be able to reach the Star-A ranch before the mob of
cowboys arrived. Anyway, if they were on Red Steve’s
trail, the scout preferred to leave them to run it out.
It was of the utmost importance that Red Steve be
found.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span></p>

<p>Something of what was passing in the scout’s mind
was divined by Perry.</p>

<p>“If you could get your pards here, Buffalo Bill,” said
the rancher, “it might be a good idea.”</p>

<p>“I doubt whether Cayuse could cover the ten miles
and bring them here before the mob arrives,” answered
the scout. “Besides, Perry, it is almost as important that
Red Steve be apprehended before he can get out of the
country. I think we had better leave Wild Bill and
the baron to take care of that part of the work. From
what Cayuse tells us, I believe luck has been with them,
and that they are on the right scent.”</p>

<p>Cayuse was deeply interested in the mysterious state
of affairs at the ranch. He was not given to asking
questions; it was rather his part to keep his ears and
eyes wide open and pick up what he wanted to know
from the ordinary course of events.</p>

<p>The scout, however, proceeded to explain to him just
what the situation meant. The boy’s eyes sparkled as he
listened.</p>

<p>“Cayuse make um ride back plenty good time, hey?”
he asked. “Buenos! Me like um.”</p>

<p>“Why did you come back?” the scout asked.</p>

<p>“Wild Bill say Cayuse come, make um stay ’long with
Perry and white squaw. Him say tell um Pa-e-has-ka
we find um trail, mebbyso follow um trail all night.
Ugh!”</p>

<p>“I see. Wild Bill thinks he may be all night running
out the trail, and if I got back from town he wanted
me to know that he thought he was meeting with some
success. Put out your pinto, Cayuse, and we’ll go into
the house. There’ll be some preparations to be made,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>
Perry,” he added to the rancher while the Piute boy
was attending to Navi.</p>

<p>“It won’t take long to make the preparations,” returned
the rancher. “From the looks of things, I
shouldn’t wonder if Nate and Hattie were already making
preparations.”</p>

<p>A wooden shutter closed over one of the cabin windows,
on the side facing the corral.</p>

<p>“Those shutters,” went on Perry, “are bullet-proof.
Nate rigged them up when we first began having trouble
with the barons. I never thought we’d have to use them
in helping to keep a mob of lynchers away from Nate.”</p>

<p>The scout caught the discouraged note in the rancher’s
voice.</p>

<p>“There’ll be no lynching,” said he, with a resolute
snap of the jaws, “even if there are lynchers coming.
Rest assured of that. I have a little authority from the
United States Government, and I’ll use it.”</p>

<p>“What do those frenzied cowboys care for the government?”
returned Perry. “They’re mad for vengeance
by now, and it will be useless to try to reason with
them.”</p>

<p>“We may find a way to bring them to their senses.”</p>

<p>“It’s a shame and a disgrace that Bloom is not standing
shoulder to shoulder with us,” said Perry bitterly.
“He doesn’t care a rap for law and order, if there’s any
violence aimed at us out here. In this case he seems
to have helped inflame the mob to do its dastardly work.”</p>

<p>Cayuse came out of the corral, closed and locked the
gate and stepped to Buffalo Bill’s side. The little Piute
had his revolver in his hands and, as he walked toward
the house at the scout’s side, he was poking cartridges
into the cylinder.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span></p>

<p>He was perfectly cool, and his matter-of-fact way in
making preparations showed that he could be depended
on to do his best.</p>

<p>In the house the scout found everything in order. The
shutters were closed over the windows, and the interior
of the cabin was dark and stuffy. A rifle lay across a
table in the living room. Dunbar was laying a supply
of cartridges beside it. Not far away his wife was loading
a shotgun. The two were working silently.</p>

<p>“Mrs. Dunbar,” said Buffalo Bill, admiration mounting
in his breast as he saw how bravely the girl was rising to
the occasion, “you’re a brick.”</p>

<p>“Those scoundrels,” Mrs. Dunbar answered, with flashing
eyes, “will not take Nate out of this house if I can do
anything to help it.”</p>

<p>“They’ll not take him, Mrs. Dunbar,” returned the
scout reassuringly. “There are a few of us here to make
sure of that. Don’t be alarmed.”</p>

<p>“When will we ever get to the end of these troubles?”
murmured the girl, with a catch in her voice.</p>

<p>“You are almost at the end of them now,” answered
the scout, in a kindly voice. “It is always darkest just
before dawn, you know.”</p>

<p>“The day of hope is a long while breaking for us,”
said Mrs. Dunbar.</p>

<p>“It will be all the brighter when it finally comes. Let’s
go out in front, Perry, and wait there for developments.”</p>

<p>There was a bench near the front door of the cabin.
Here Perry and Buffalo Bill seated themselves. Little
Cayuse sat just inside the door, his head bowed over
and his arms folded. Suddenly he broke into a crooning
chant that came weirdly to the ears of the rancher and
the scout.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span></p>

<p>“What’s that?” asked Perry; “what’s the boy doing,
Buffalo Bill?”</p>

<p>“He is calling on his fathers and his Piute gods. He
wants the Great Spirit to be kind to Nate Dunbar and the
white squaw. Listen!”</p>

<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
  <div class="stanza">
    <div class="verse indent2">“Ta-vi kwai-nant-si ya-ga-wats</div>
    <div class="verse indent2">Si-chom-pa kung-war-ru</div>
    <div class="verse indent0">Tu-yung-wi-ra-vats.”</div>
  </div>
</div>
</div>

<p>The strange words floated out of the door, not unmusically,
although they were little more than a whisper.</p>

<p>“What is it?” queried Perry. “What’s the chant
about?”</p>

<p>“It’s the ‘Eagle Tears’ song&mdash;</p>

<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
  <div class="stanza">
    <div class="verse indent0">“‘At morn the eagle will cry,</div>
    <div class="verse indent0">On the farther shore of the sea,</div>
    <div class="verse indent0">And the rainbow will be in the sky.’”</div>
  </div>
</div>
</div>

<p>“A rainbow,” murmured Perry, “is a sign of hope.”</p>

<p>“Exactly,” smiled the scout, “and Little Cayuse is
doing something which, he believes, will bring Mr. and
Mrs. Dunbar a happy day. He has a song for everything&mdash;for
sadness, for victory, for bringing courage to
a warrior’s heart. The boy thinks a lot of Mrs. Dunbar.
She has been mighty kind to Cayuse, while we have
been staying at your ranch, Perry, and kindness is something
the Piute boy never forgets.”</p>

<p>“You and your pards are all our good friends,” said
Perry, “down even to Little Cayuse. Well, if we do get
out of this, it will be Buffalo Bill and his pards who
makes the strike for us. I’ve been wondering if we
couldn’t send word to Bloom over at the H-P ranch and
demand that he come here and keep this mob away.”</p>

<p>The scout shook his head.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p>

<p>“It would be foolish to try such a move as that,” he
declared. “Bloom can not be depended on to do anything
for law and order when you and Dunbar are concerned.
If we sent Cayuse after him he wouldn’t come.
Even if he did come, he wouldn’t be a help, but a hindrance.”</p>

<p>“If he should come here and demand that we turn
Nate over to him&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“We’d tell him mañana, Perry. We’ve got to keep
Nate out of Bloom’s hands entirely.”</p>

<p>“A nice state of affairs this range has dropped into,”
fretted Perry, “when honest cattlemen can’t look to the
legal authorities for protection against mobs of lynchers.
If we&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>He broke off abruptly and jumped to his feet. The
scout also started up.</p>

<p>Old Nomad and Sam Pierce had broken into sight
along the timbered trail, running at top speed toward
the house.</p>

<p>“I reckon we’re close to a show-down,” said the scout.</p>

<p>“They’re on ther way, Buffler,” puffed the old trapper,
as he and Pierce came to the front of the cabin.</p>

<p>“Who, Nomad?”</p>

<p>It was Hattie’s voice from the door.</p>

<p>“The punchers from the H-P ranch gal,” answered
the trapper.</p>

<p>“How many are there of them, Nick?” inquired the
scout.</p>

<p>“Fifteen.”</p>

<p>“Did you recognize any of them?”</p>

<p>“They was too fur off, Buffler, ter make out who they
aire.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span></p>

<p>“You could have recognized Hank Phelps easily
enough, in his Mexican clothes.”</p>

<p>“Waal, I didn’t see him, an’ I don’t reckon he’s erlong.”</p>

<p>“Into the house, pards,” ordered the scout, “and we’ll
make ready to hold our ground.”</p>

<p>Perry had already pushed into the cabin. Pierce and
Nomad followed him. The scout was last to enter,
and he closed the door and dropped a stout oak bar
across it.</p>

<p>A few moments later there came a sodden roll of
hoofs, growing louder and louder.</p>

<p>The scout, peering through a loophole, saw fifteen
armed men debouch from the timber and surround the
cabin.</p>

<p>“Not a shot is to be fired,” said Buffalo Bill to the
silent little group in the cabin, “until I give the word.
We will use our weapons only as a last resort and not
until every other expedient is exhausted.”</p>

<p>From his loophole the scout saw one of the cowboys
throw himself from the saddle and advance upon the front
door. The plans of the H-P men must have been well
considered, for each of the party moved at once to his
post in the cordon that surrounded the cabin. There
was no talking, no confusion. A fist pounded on the
door.</p>

<p>“Who’s there?” called the scout.</p>

<p>“A crowd of fellers from the H-P ranch,” answered a
hoarse voice, “and we mean business right from the drop
o’ the hat.”</p>

<p>“What do you want?”</p>

<p>“We want the murderin’ hound that done fer Jake
Phelps!”</p>

<p>A stifled cry escaped Mrs. Dunbar. Nate stepped over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>
and put his arm around her waist, at the same time
whispering to her encouragingly.</p>

<p>“Is Jake Phelps done for?” asked the scout, intent on
securing a little information.</p>

<p>“Purty nigh,” was the answer. “He ain’t never spoke
a word since he was found on the trail, where Dunbar
knocked him out o’ the saddle.”</p>

<p>Here was something, at all events. Phelps was still
alive, and while there was life there was hope that he
would recover.</p>

<p>“Wait a minute,” said the scout. “I don’t like talking
through a door, and I’m coming out.”</p>

<p>Perry made a gesture of protest.</p>

<p>“I want to reason with these men,” said the scout, in
a low tone, “and I can do it better face to face with
them.”</p>

<p>“But what if they should capture you?” murmured
Mrs. Dunbar, her voice sharp with apprehension. “What
should we do then, Buffalo Bill, with you taken from
us?”</p>

<p>“He won’t be captered, gal,” returned old Nomad.
“I’ll let Buffler out, an’ I’ll stand by ther door ter let him
in ag’in. He’ll come in a-hummin’ ef they make er move
ter rush him.”</p>

<p>The scout took a precautionary look through the loophole
and stepped to the door. The trapper lifted the
bar and the scout stepped to the front of the cabin.</p>

<p>The cowboy scowled at him. There were no more
than five of the H-P outfit in sight, the others being
scattered around the cabin.</p>

<p>“Call the rest of your party here,” said the scout. “I
want to talk to all of you.”</p>

<p>“Think I’m easy?” snorted the cowboy. “When them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>
from the back part o’ the house come here, Dunbar’ll
hike through the kitchen door an’ git inter the woods.”</p>

<p>“Dunbar isn’t going to run,” declared the scout. “I
knew you men were coming from the Phelps ranch, and
brought the news here two or three hours ago. If Nate
had wanted to run he would have had plenty of chance.
He’s an innocent man, and I think I can make you fellows
see it and leave here in peace.”</p>

<p>“He ain’t innercent,” cried the cowboy. “He done fer
Jake Phelps, an’ us fellers aire here ter git him if we
have ter burn the house.”</p>

<p>“Not Nate Dunbar but Red Steve is the man you
want.”</p>

<p>“We know who we want, an’ we ain’t goin’ ter waste
much more time gittin’ him, nuther.”</p>

<p>“What’s your name?” queried the scout, suddenly
changing his tactics.</p>

<p>These men were not in a mood to listen to reason.
Impatient yells had come from all around the cabin,
demanding that the spokesman stop his talking and do
something.</p>

<p>“Prouther,” said the cowboy.</p>

<p>“For whatever happens here, Prouther,” threatened
the scout, “I shall hold you and those with you responsible.
You’ll not take Nate Dunbar away from us. If
you try it, there’ll be shooting; and you men out here
will be better targets than those of us who are in the
house.”</p>

<p>Two of the other cowboys had dismounted and come to
Prouther’s side.</p>

<p>“What good’s all this chinnin’?” growled one.</p>

<p>“He come out ter talk, Klinger,” answered Prouther,
“an’ I reckoned we might as well listen.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span></p>

<p>“While we’re listenin’,” said the third cowboy,
“mebby them in the cabin aire doin’ somethin’. Pass it
up an’ let’s git busy.”</p>

<p>“What’s yer answer?” demanded Prouther, facing the
scout truculently.</p>

<p>“Before I give you my answer,” said Buffalo Bill, “let
me tell you this: There’s law on the Brazos still, if not
State law then national law. I represent the government.
My name is Cody, and I’m on detached service. I
reckon you men know me.” His face hardened and his
lithe, muscular form straightened to its full height.
“Whenever I lay hold of a proposition I generally make
good. I tell you, Nate Dunbar had nothing to do with
the injury from which Jake Phelps is lying unconscious
at the H-P ranch. He&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“Bosh!” howled Klinger. “Didn’t him an’ Jake git ter
loggerheads in Hackamore? Didn’t you order Jake out
o’ town? An’ didn’t Dunbar foller him? What did he
foller him fer if it wasn’t ter do him up?”</p>

<p>“Nate didn’t follow Jake Phelps, but came straight to
the Star-A by the most direct trail. Suppose he did follow
him. If Nate wanted to do Phelps up, as you say,
then why didn’t he use his revolver instead of a club?
What was Phelps doing with his own revolver while
Dunbar was riding up behind him and hitting him with
a club? Can’t you men use a little reason?”</p>

<p>But the would-be lynchers had no reason. They were
blindly determined to take the law in their own hands.</p>

<p>“We know Dunbar done it!” Prouther whooped. “Will
ye trot him out here, or hev we got ter come in arter
him?”</p>

<p>“Think this over well before you make a move!”
warned the scout.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span></p>

<p>Suddenly, as by a preconcerted signal, Klinger and
Prouther hurled themselves at Buffalo Bill. He received
them&mdash;and they must have been astonished at the manner
of their reception.</p>

<p>The scout’s fists shot out right and left like the piston-rods
of a locomotive. Prouther and Klinger reeled back
under the impact of the blows. With an oath, the other
man fumbled at his revolver. Before he could draw
it, the scout leaped into the air, after the manner of a
French savateur, and kicked the weapon out of his hand.</p>

<p>Nomad, who had been watching proceedings with cat-like
vigilance, threw open the door and the scout faded
inside the cabin. When the wrathful cowboys pulled
themselves together, only the blank expanse of the door
faced them. Yelling furiously, they began slamming bullets
into the stout oak barrier.</p>

<p>Those behind heard the shooting and likewise opened
a fusillade.</p>

<p>“All we can do now,” said Nate Dunbar, his face white
and set, “is to give them as good as they send&mdash;or better.”</p>

<p>“Wait!” interposed the scout, “we’re not in the last
ditch yet.”</p>

<p>“What d’ye want ter wait fer, Buffler?” spoke up old
Nomad. “All them thar ijuts aire in plain sight. We kin
pick ’em off in one, two, three style.”</p>

<p>“We’re not here to pick anybody off, Nick,” said the
scout. “We’re here to save Nate Dunbar, and not to
make this matter any worse than it is. Let them waste
their ammunition on the walls of the cabin, if they want
to. It’s not hurting us, and it’s allowing some of their
steam to escape. Maybe they won’t be under such high
pressure after they shoot a while.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p>

<p>For a minute or two the bullets continued to thump
against the cabin walls. After that there came an interval
of silence while the cowboys moved farther back
into the timber. From the loopholes they could be seen
preparing torches.</p>

<p>“They’re going to fire the house!” gasped Perry.</p>

<p>“Them fellers’ll do anythin’,” averred Sim Pierce.
“They’re crazy mad. When they come ter think this over
termorrer, they’ll wonder how the blazes they ever let
their senses run away from ’em in this way. It’s a rough
bizness, an’ no mistake.”</p>

<p>“They’ll not fire the house,” said Buffalo Bill. “In
order to do that, they’ll have to come within range of
our guns. They have at least sense enough to understand
that we can pick them off as fast as they come at
us with their torches.”</p>

<p>But, in this, the scout was mistaken. The H-P men
had taken the box from a lumber wagon, and were manipulating
it in such a way that half a dozen of them could
carry it and advance with it for a breastwork.</p>

<p>“Thet’s er whale of er idee!” growled the old trapper.
“I reckon et kyboshes us some, too. Hey, Buffler?”</p>

<p>The scout peered gravely at the advancing wagon box.
It moved forward for a dozen feet, and then rested. During
the rest, Prouther showed himself, and the other cowboys
advanced a little.</p>

<p>“We’re goin’ ter give ye another chance!” yelled
Prouther.</p>

<p>“Another chance for what?” called back the scout.</p>

<p>“Why, ter give up that feller we want. If ye don’t
give him up, we’ll shore burn the ranch house. If we
kain’t git him one way, we kin another.”</p>

<p>“There’s no way you can git him!” the scout roared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>
defiantly. “We’re well armed in here, Prouther, and
you’ll find it out to your cost if you keep on as you’re
going.”</p>

<p>“Talk’s cheap. Aire we ter have Dunbar? Yes or
no.”</p>

<p>“No!”</p>

<p>There was no mistaking the finality the scout put into
the word. Again the wagon box was picked up and started
forward.</p>

<p>Then, like a bombshell, a voice came from the woods
back of the H-P men:</p>

<p>“Stand where you are! If another shot is fired at
that cabin, or if you fellows carry this lawless game any
further, I’ll riddle the lot of you! I’m here with twenty-five
men, and they’re armed with rifles. I’ve done a
lot to make war on the Brazos, and now I’ll do just as
much to make peace. You hear me!”</p>

<p>There followed a breathless silence, during which a
man in black rode out of the timber and pulled his horse
to a halt.</p>

<p>“My men are back there,” he went on, waving his hand
in the direction of the woods, “and each one of them has
his rifle leveled.” He laughed. “I reckon that, between
us, Buffalo Bill and I have a cinch on this lay-out.”</p>

<p>“Er-waugh!” muttered old Nomad dazedly. “I’m er
Piegan ef et ain’t Lige Benner! An’ he fightin’ fer us
an’ not ag’in us! Hev I got ther blind staggers?”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.<br />
<span class="fs70">BENNER’S CHANGE OF HEART.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>“What’s back of this?” breathed Dick Perry suspiciously.
“What’s Lige Benner’s real purpose in acting
this way?”</p>

<p>The rancher had for so long been the victim of Benner’s
plots, that even now he could not take his show of
friendship at face value.</p>

<p>“Benner,” answered the scout, “has undergone a
change of heart. There’s nothing back of this move of
his except a desire to establish peace on the river. He’s
tired of the squabbling. For once in his life, at least,
Lige Benner is showing that there’s some good in him.
Watch&mdash;watch and listen! Let’s see how he handles the
affair.”</p>

<p>All eyes in the cabin peered from the loopholes. Horseman
after horseman had ridden from the woods into
plain view&mdash;all Circle-B men, and numbering fully a
score and five. Each of Benner’s men had a rifle, and
each held it trained on a hostile cowboy.</p>

<p>The H-P contingent were stunned into silence and inaction.
The wagon box tumbled over and the torches
dropped from the hands of the would-be firebugs.</p>

<p>Certainly it was an odd situation. Both Phelps’ men
and Benner’s had fought side by side against the Star-A
ranchers, along at the first of the troubles. Each side had
comrades in the other side, and for the two parties to
stand ready to leap at each other’s throat formed a
strange commentary on the ways of fate.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p>

<p>“You see,” called Lige Benner, “I’m the boss of this
end of the business. There are fifteen of you and twenty-six
of us. We have rifles, and you have small arms.
Likewise, we have the drop.”</p>

<p>“I&mdash;I thort you fellers was friends o’ our’n!” stuttered
Prouther.</p>

<p>“So we are,” answered Benner. “We’re the best
friends you H-P fellers ever had. What we’re doing
now is the friendliest kind of an act. Prouther, we’re
keeping you from doing something you’d be sorry for&mdash;something
you’d be brought to book for. You’re fighting
Buffalo Bill, and you’re laying yourself wide open by
your lawlessness. If you had been allowed to keep on,
sooner or later Buffalo Bill would have made you pay
up in full.”</p>

<p>“But Nate Dunbar done up Jake Phelps!”</p>

<p>“Be hanged to that! Dunbar is as guilty of that as I
am&mdash;just about. But I’ve talked enough. You punchers
will file past me, one at a time, and drop your guns in
front of my horse. After that, you will take to your
mounts and hustle for home&mdash;and you’ll stay home when
you get there, for I intend to keep this force of men on
guard here until this Jake Phelps matter is settled, and
settled right. You can head the procession, Prouther!”</p>

<p>“I’m blamed if I’ll give up my guns!” howled Prouther.</p>

<p>“You’ll give them up, and no more words about it. If
you’ll ride over to the Circle-B, in two or three days,
you can have the weapons back again. Start yourself,
Prouther!”</p>

<p>Prouther tried to haggle further. Thereupon Benner
ordered one of his men to dismount and take his weapons
away from him. Prouther swore, but he had to yield.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>
Two rifles were aimed at him, and the faces behind the
guns were full of grim resolution.</p>

<p>The rest of the H-P men did not make so much trouble.
They realized that they were helpless to do otherwise
than obey orders. One by one they defiled past
Lige Benner, and one by one they snatched their weapons
from their belts and flung them angrily down.</p>

<p>When they were all disarmed, Benner ordered them to
their horses. They rushed at their animals, hurled themselves
into their saddles and careered away, roaring their
threats as to what they would do later.</p>

<p>As soon as the last hoofbeat had died to silence, Buffalo
Bill pulled open the cabin door and passed out in front.
Lige Benner rode up to him, dismounted, and came forward
with outstretched hand.</p>

<p>“Do you believe that I mean well now?” he asked.</p>

<p>“I never doubted that you meant to do the right thing,
Benner,” answered the scout heartily, giving the offered
hand a cordial clasp. “How were you able to get here
just when we most needed help?”</p>

<p>“I left Hackamore just after I talked with you, and
rode for home. I hadn’t been there long when I heard
this about Dunbar. A little while after that, one of our
boys who had been over at the H-P ranch, rode in and
told me that the lynching party of fifteen had started for
the Star-A. As quick as I could, I got this force of men
together, gave them a short talk, and we rode here. I
reckon you know the rest.”</p>

<p>Dunbar, Perry, Hattie Dunbar, Sim Pierce, old Nomad
and Little Cayuse had crowded through the door while
Lige Benner was talking. The scout stepped a little apart
and waited to see what would happen between Benner
and the Star-A ranchers.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span></p>

<p>There was an embarrassing pause, for a few moments.
Benner cut it short by stepping up to Perry.</p>

<p>“Dick Perry,” said he, “let me frankly say that I never
liked you, but also let me confess that I had no real reason
for putting myself at swords’ points with you. I was
in the wrong. I did not make this about face because
I felt that I was in the wrong, but because I felt that I
should be drawn into a bad tangle unless Red Steve was
captured and made to tell the truth about Ace Hawkins.
But I’m receding from that position. I’m beginning to
want peace on the Brazos for its own sake. I take it, you
and Dunbar are as anxious to find Red Steve as I am?
Then let’s make common cause. Will you take my
hand?”</p>

<p>Perry hesitated. In the gathering dusk, the scout saw
his eyes flash and his face harden; then, generously, he
threw past grievances to the winds and took the hand
held out to him.</p>

<p>Nate Dunbar pushed forward with his wife. His left
arm encircled Hattie’s waist, and together they stood in
front of their old enemy.</p>

<p>“Hattie and I want to be in on this,” said Nate. “I
don’t say, mind you, that you saved me from those H-P
men. They never would have got me, for I had Buffalo
Bill and his pards on my side. But you did keep us
from shooting into the party of lynchers, and that would
have caused no end of trouble. Red Steve must have
been the man who tackled Jake Phelps on the trail. As
you say, Benner, we have common cause against him.
Perry has met you halfway, and with him for an example,
Hattie and I won’t hang back in doing the same thing.”</p>

<p>They shook hands, and Benner doffed his black sombrero
and bowed to Mrs. Dunbar.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span></p>

<p>“Whoop-ya!” jubilated old Nomad. “Ring ther bells!
Let the band toot! Allymand left an’ all sashay! Peace
is shore beginnin’ ter ride circles eround the diffikilties on
ther Brazos! Be happy, ever’body, kase ther merlennium
hes come! Who’d ever a-thort et?”</p>

<p>“I have to say, Buffalo Bill,” went on Benner, as soon
as the old trapper had eased himself of his glorying,
“that my men will remain on guard around this cabin
until this trouble about Jake Phelps has been straightened
out. There’ll be no more lynching parties. Have
your pards learned anything regarding Red Steve?”</p>

<p>“Wild Bill Hickok and the baron are on his trail,”
said the scout. “They’ll be heard from before long.”</p>

<p>“Wild Bill Hickok is a man of parts,” said Benner,
with a rueful laugh. “I know from personal experience
with him what he can do. If any one can catch Red
Steve, it’s Wild Bill Hickok. We’re to remain quietly
until he reports?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Then I and my men will stay out here.”</p>

<p>“You can come in the house with the rest of us,
Benner,” said Perry.</p>

<p>“I’d prefer to be with my men,” was the answer.</p>

<p>“Anyhow,” put in Dunbar, “we’ll see that you and
your men have supper.”</p>

<p>Benner went back to his men, and the latter began
caring for their horses. Guards were posted to command
all approaches to the Star-A ranch, and rifles
were kept within easy reach.</p>

<p>Preparing supper for thirty or more was something
of a task, but Dunbar helped his wife, and Little Cayuse
carried out the food when it was ready.</p>

<p>There was peace on that part of the Brazos, albeit an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>
armed peace. Real peace could not come until Red Steve
was captured, and had been forced to confess all he knew
about Ace Hawkins and Jake Phelps.</p>

<p>Following supper, the scout and his pards smoked with
Benner in front of the cabin. At a late hour Benner went
to his blankets under the trees. Cayuse bunked down at
the corral by the horses, and the others hunted berths
on the floor of the ranch living room.</p>

<p>It was in the small hours of the morning that Little
Cayuse crept into the living room and crawled to the
scout.</p>

<p>“Come, Pa-e-has-ka!” he whispered.</p>

<p>The scout sat up.</p>

<p>“What’s wanted?” he asked.</p>

<p>“Wild Bill make um palaver by corral. You come, Pa-e-has-ka.”</p>

<p>The scout wondered at all this mysteriousness on Wild
Bill’s part, but he presumed that Hickok, not knowing
the lay of the situation, had made up his mind to proceed
carefully. The main fact seemed to be that the Laramie
man had returned from his search with important news
about Red Steve. Thrilled with hope, the scout left the
house quietly and met Hickok by the corral.</p>

<p>They talked for several minutes in low tones, and the
scout’s voice betrayed traces of considerable excitement.
At the end of their talk, Buffalo Bill saddled Bear Paw,
gave instructions to Cayuse to say nothing, and slipped
away into the darkest part of the night with Wild Bill.</p>

<p>Morning came, and great was the excitement when it
was discovered that Buffalo Bill had vanished. Nomad
fretted, the rest wondered, and Cayuse held his peace.</p>

<p>Breakfast was prepared, and while Benner and his men
were eating out under the trees, and the others were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>
taking their meal in the house, Buffalo Bill came slashing
up to the corral, cared for Bear Paw, and hurried to the
cabin.</p>

<p>There was a queer look on his face, and a queer gleam
in his eyes. Over all, however, was an expression of
triumph not unmixed with amazement.</p>

<p>“Whar ther nation you been, Buffler?” whooped the old
trapper, when the king of scouts pushed into the kitchen
and took his seat at the table.</p>

<p>“Been having a little ride, pard,” laughed the scout
indefinitely.</p>

<p>“Took er leetle pasear around lookin’ fer Red Steve?”</p>

<p>“Well, you might call it that. I’m hungry as a bear
that has just come out of his hole in the spring. Load
that plate full, Nate.”</p>

<p>“Sim hyar reckoned he wouldn’t git ter see ye afore he
started fer Hackamore.”</p>

<p>“Got ter go back,” put in Sim. “I ain’t needed here,
anyways, with all these men o’ Benner’s standing between
Nate an’ trouble. I’ll borry a rifle an’ take it erlong in
case I meet up with Red Thunderbolt. Say, I’d like ter
put a bullet inter that critter. The’s a thousand out for
Red Thunderbolt.”</p>

<p>“A thousand?” asked the scout, falling to with his knife
and fork.</p>

<p>“Shore. The cattle barons, up an’ down the river, have
offered a thousand in cash fer the man thet knocks over
that murderin’ maverick. Now, if I could do the
trick&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“You can’t, Sim,” cut in Dunbar. “It’s been tried too
many times. Red Thunderbolt bears a charmed life.”</p>

<p>“Don’t leave the ranch just yet, Pierce,” said the scout.
“There’s something I want you to do.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span></p>

<p>“Waal, if ye got any bizness on hand fer me, o’ course
I’ll hang eround. Any more peace-makin’?” grinned
Pierce.</p>

<p>“That’s what it’s to be.”</p>

<p>The scout’s face had become sphinxlike, and prying
eyes learned nothing from a study of it.</p>

<p>“Buffler, ye’re holdin’ somethin’ back!” rumbled the
trapper. “Consarn et, pard, kain’t ye see how I’m on tenterhooks?
Why don’t ye le’go with what ye got on yer
mind? What’s ther use o’ hangin’ fire?”</p>

<p>The scout laughed.</p>

<p>“Don’t get inquisitive, Nick. I’ve got a big surprise
in store for all of you, but I must spring it in my own
way, and at my own time.”</p>

<p>“What kind of er s’prise?”</p>

<p>“The kind that will make you sit up, open your eyes,
and gasp. I want several in the party.”</p>

<p>“Me an’ Pierce?” quizzed Nomad.</p>

<p>“More than that. Hattie must be along, and Nate, and
Perry; also Sim, and you, Nick, and Cayuse.”</p>

<p>“Jumpin’ catermounts! Why, ye’re cleanin’ out ther
hull ranch house. Ef Wild Bill an’ the baron’ ’u’d on’y
happen erlong, I reckon ye’d take them, too, hey?”</p>

<p>The scout laughed.</p>

<p>“Benner will also be with us,” said he, “and Hank
Phelps.”</p>

<p>The name of Benner was a little surprising, but the
mention of Hank Phelps quite took the breath of the
others.</p>

<p>“The way Hank Phelps feels toward us, Buffalo Bill,”
said Perry, “it’s doubtful whether he would agree to go.”</p>

<p>“I think he’ll go, all right, if the invitation is handed
to him in the right way.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span></p>

<p>“Arter what happened hyar last night,” chuckled Nomad,
“d’ye opine Phelps would accept any o’ our invitation,
no matter how et was handed ter him?”</p>

<p>“I reckon he will. You see, to make sure the invitation
is given as it should be, I intend to offer it myself.”</p>

<p>They all stared at that.</p>

<p>“How ye goin’ ter work et?” demanded Nomad.</p>

<p>“I’m going to ride to the H-P ranch directly after
breakfast.”</p>

<p>“All o’ us with ye?”</p>

<p>“Certainly not, Nick. Do you imagine that I would
take Nate over to Phelps’ place, while things are as we
have them now? It would be worse than foolish. I’m
going to call on Phelps alone.”</p>

<p>“Don’t!” begged Perry. “Ruffianly work will be done,
Buffalo Bill. I know Phelps better than you do. He’s
probably as crazy mad over what happened to Jake as
any of his men. You’ll have more on your hands than
you can attend to.”</p>

<p>“I think not,” said the scout quietly.</p>

<p>“Stay away from the H-P ranch, amigo,” urged Nate.</p>

<p>“But it’s necessary for you, necessary for peace on the
Brazos, that I call on him. So I’m going.”</p>

<p>When the scout spoke in the tone of voice he used
then, further argument was useless. Everybody was
burning with curiosity to know what he had at the back
of his head, but he continued smilingly indefinite.</p>

<p>“Cayuse,” said he, when he had finished and risen
from the table, “go out and get Bear Paw ready for the
trail. In two hours,” he added to Perry, “I want all the
rest of you to ride to the forks of the trail just where it
divides for Hackamore and the Circle-B ranch. If I’m
not there with Phelps when you get there, wait for us.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>
Benner will ride with you, Perry. The Circle-B men
will take care of the ranch until we get back.”</p>

<p>“I don’t like ther pizen lay-out, not noways,” declared
Nomad, “but orders is orders. Ef we wait more’n two
hours fer ye at the forks o’ ther trail, and ye don’t come,
I’ll ride ter Phelps’ hangout, an’ purceed ter tear things.”</p>

<p>“Don’t do anything rash, Nick,” counseled the scout,
leaving by the kitchen door and climbing into his saddle.</p>

<p>At the edge of the timber he drew rein to talk with
Benner.</p>

<p>“I’ve got something important to say to you, Benner,”
said he, “and my time is limited. Mount and ride a ways
with me.”</p>

<p>“I’ll do it.”</p>

<p>Benner’s horse was put under saddle in record time,
and he and the scout started side by side along the trail
that led to the H-P ranch.</p>

<p>“I’m going over to call on Phelps,” announced the
scout.</p>

<p>Benner started in his saddle.</p>

<p>“Alone?” he inquired.</p>

<p>“Yes. Business calls me.”</p>

<p>“It’s dangerous, considering the temper Phelps is in
about Jake. If Jake happens to have crossed the divide,
I would be willing to gamble you have trouble getting
clear of his place with your scalp.”</p>

<p>“Do you really think so?” asked the scout, with a keen
glance at his companion. “Didn’t I call on Phelps once
before, when you and he were in the ranch house? And
didn’t I get away with ground to spare?”</p>

<p>A flush stole over Benner’s bronzed face. The scout
had referred to an incident during the time when Phelps
and Benner were at war with Perry and Dunbar. On<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>
that occasion, Buffalo Bill had rescued Perry from
Phelps’ ranch house, and had left Benner and Phelps
handcuffed back to back.</p>

<p>“I renig,” said Benner, with a short laugh. “You’re
able to take care of yourself in any and all circumstances,
Buffalo Bill. I reckon you can call on Phelps
and get away again. But what’s the use?”</p>

<p>“We’re close to the end of this trouble trail,” proceeded
the scout earnestly. “A little quick work this
morning will settle everything. Perry, Mr. and Mrs.
Dunbar, Sim Pierce, old Nomad and Little Cayuse are
going to start on horseback inside of two hours for the
place where the trail forks to go to Hackamore and to
your place. They will wait for Phelps and me at the
forks. You, Benner, are to ride with the party from
the Star-A.”</p>

<p>Benner was intensely interested.</p>

<p>“Have you discovered something of importance?” he
asked.</p>

<p>“I have&mdash;something of the utmost importance; something
that will spell peace on the Brazos.”</p>

<p>“Something that will clear me of any suspicion regarding
the taking off of Ace Hawkins?”</p>

<p>“I believe so.”</p>

<p>“And clear Nate Dunbar?”</p>

<p>“Undoubtedly.”</p>

<p>“What is it?”</p>

<p>“I’ll show you later. Meanwhile, be prepared for a big
surprise.”</p>

<p>“You’ve got me all worked up,” muttered Benner, with
a low laugh.</p>

<p>“Everybody will be worked up before we are through.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>
It’s the biggest thing, Benner, that ever happened in this
Brazos country.”</p>

<p>“Why are you taking Phelps along?”</p>

<p>“Because he must hear what we hear, and see what we
see. That’s of the utmost importance.”</p>

<p>“Can’t I go to Phelps’ ranch with you?” suggested
Benner. “I know Hank pretty well, and, if he gets ugly,
perhaps I could help you handle him.”</p>

<p>“No, Benner,” answered the scout firmly, “I prefer to
go alone. You ride with Perry, Dunbar and my pards.
They have nothing but friendly feelings for you now.
Have your cowboys watch the Star-A ranch until we get
back there.”</p>

<p>“Just as you say. I’m a good soldier, Cody, and know
how to obey my superior officer. Is that all?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“Adios, then.”</p>

<p>Benner wheeled his horse and rode back along the trail
to the Star-A. The scout spurred into faster gait, and
laid a rapid course in the direction of the H-P ranch.</p>

<p>Benner turned to look back at him.</p>

<p>“I wouldn’t be in Phelps’ shoes for a bushel of dinero,”
thought Benner, “if he tries to do what Buffalo Bill don’t
want him to.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.<br />
<span class="fs70">IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>From rising ground, where Buffalo Bill had left his
pards on the previous occasion when he had gone alone
into Phelps’ hangout, the scout surveyed the situation at
the hostile ranch.</p>

<p>Everything was quiet about the buildings, but it was
the brooding quiet that oftentimes precedes a violent
storm. Cowboys passed and re-passed slowly under the
scout’s eyes, but they seemed to avoid the log house in
which Phelps made his headquarters.</p>

<p>In that building, no doubt, lay Jake Phelps, the mysteriously
injured relative of Hank Phelps. It might be
that the building was being avoided by the cowboys, on
the injured man’s account.</p>

<p>Without lingering long over his survey, the scout
started Bear Paw and rode down the hill up which he had
once raced with the H-P cowboys tight after him. He
hoped that performance was not again to be repeated.</p>

<p>No one appeared to molest him. He was seen, nevertheless,
and several cowboys, out behind Hank Phelps’
quarters, gathered in an excited group.</p>

<p>Leaving Bear Paw at a little distance from the log
house, Buffalo Bill dismounted and moved briskly forward
on foot.</p>

<p>Before he had come within a dozen feet of the front
door of the house, Phelps himself appeared in the opening.
He seemed, for a moment, as though loath to believe
his eyes.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span></p>

<p>Recovering himself quickly, Phelps stepped through
the door and faced the scout. Rage was growing in
Phelps’ face.</p>

<p>“What do you want here?”</p>

<p>“I want you, Phelps,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>A harsh laugh escaped the cattleman’s lips.</p>

<p>“You called on me once before,” said he, “and you got
away that time. You’ll not be so lucky now, Buffalo
Bill.”</p>

<p>“You mean that you will try to prevent me from going
away when I get ready to leave?” asked the scout calmly.</p>

<p>“That’s what I mean.”</p>

<p>“Why will you do that?”</p>

<p>“Don’t you try to play lame-duck with me!” answered
Phelps fiercely. “You can do it with Lige Benner, but
I’m cut out of different cloth. You’ve been helping that
young whelp over at the Star-A. What’s come of it?
Jake lies in there”&mdash;he waved an angry hand at the
house behind him&mdash;“unconscious and fighting for life.
That’s what’s come of your work on the Brazos. But
you’ve done more, Buffalo Bill!”</p>

<p>Phelps was rapidly lashing himself into uncontrollable
fury.</p>

<p>“What more have I done?” returned the scout, still
calmly.</p>

<p>“When Jake and that cur at the Star-A quarreled in
Hackamore, you sent Jake out of town; then, by thunder,
you sent Dunbar after him! You’re at the bottom of the
whole villainous business! You set Dunbar on to steal
the pay-roll money, and&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>“I wouldn’t go any further with that, if I were you,”
cut in the scout significantly. “I reckon you understand
that I’ve heard about enough in that strain.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span></p>

<p>“You’ll hear all I’m going to tell!” stormed Phelps.
“I’m on my own ground here, Cody! This isn’t the Star-A
ranch. You haven’t got Benner and his outfit to stand
between you and trouble. You were a fool to come here
like this. But that’s your fault. Now that you’re here,
you’ll take what I’m going to give you. I’ll square up
for Jake!”</p>

<p>Jumping back, Phelps gave vent to a furious yell. At
the same moment he jerked a revolver from his hip.</p>

<p>The cowboys, out behind the house, heard the yell, and
came rushing around in front. One of them carried a
rope.</p>

<p>But, if Phelps had been quick in executing his manœuvre,
the scout had been even quicker. Seizing the angry
man’s arm, the scout wrestled with him for possession of
the revolver.</p>

<p>It was a critical moment for Buffalo Bill. He was
fighting the cattleman on his own ground, and cowboys
were rushing to the scene.</p>

<p>But the scout secured the revolver. That was the main
thing. Throwing his left arm around Phelps’ throat, the
scout backed against the log wall of the building, keeping
the cattle baron in front of him by main strength. With
his right hand he pushed out the revolver over Phelps’
squirming shoulder.</p>

<p>“Steady, you men!” called the scout, recognizing Prouther
as one of the six cowboys. “I didn’t come here to
make war, but to make peace. Leave us alone and all
will be well. Try to stir up trouble, and a good many
things will go wrong.”</p>

<p>“Take him, confound you!” roared Phelps, fighting for
his freedom and half strangled by the arm around his
throat.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span></p>

<p>The cowboys appeared undecided. At this moment two
other actors appeared on the scene. They came from
somewhere within the house and stepped hastily through
the door.</p>

<p>One of them was Bloom, the sheriff. The other was
the doctor.</p>

<p>“Ah!” came from Bloom. “So the chivalrous Mr. Cody
has paid us a visit, has he? In his usual manner he has
begun to make things lively. Go ’way, you men,” and
Bloom turned and waved the cowboys off. “I reckon
Phelps and I can look after this Cody person.”</p>

<p>The cowboys retreated to a distance. The scout released
Phelps, but kept his revolver.</p>

<p>“Tut, tut!” cried the doctor. “This here ain’t accordin’
to Hoyle. We’re gents all, so why the nation should we
act like a pack of rowdies? Hank Phelps, you ca’m
down. I got the highest respect for Buffalo Bill, an’ I
know he ain’t here for no wrong purpose. Bloom, don’t
be unmannerly. Confound it, can’t you two give Buffalo
Bill a chance to tell what he’s come here for?”</p>

<p>Here was an unexpected aide in the person of the
doctor. The scout felt that he was indeed fortunate to
find the doctor at the house.</p>

<p>“I’m not lookin’ at Buffalo Bill with the same eye as
you, doc,” grunted Bloom. “Him an’ me don’t hitch.”</p>

<p>“That is regrettable,” said the doctor. “When people
can’t hitch, Bloom, it’s best to let each other alone.”</p>

<p>“Why don’t Cody let me alone?” babbled Phelps.
“What does he come crowhopping around here for?”</p>

<p>“That’s his nature,” sneered Bloom. “He makes it a
point to blow in where he ain’t wanted.”</p>

<p>“If you’ll go in the house with me,” said the scout,
“I’ll tell you what I want in a few minutes.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span></p>

<p>“Invite him in, Hank,” suggested Bloom, “but walk
behind him.”</p>

<p>“Oh, you fellers do make me all-fired tired,” grunted
the doctor. “Come in, Buffalo Bill. I’m gladder’n blazes
that I happen to be here.”</p>

<p>The doctor returned into the house. Buffalo Bill followed
him, and the two others followed Buffalo Bill.
Once inside, the scout was not asked to be seated.</p>

<p>“First, doctor,” said the scout, “I’d like to know how
Jake Phelps is coming along?”</p>

<p>The doctor shook his head forebodingly.</p>

<p>“He got a rap on the head that was some fierce,” said
he, “but it don’t seem to be a fracture. Yet, if it ain’t a
fracture, why don’t he corral his wits, open his eyes and
talk? He ain’t said a word since he was found in the
trail. I’ve done my best to bring him around, because
I know two words from Jake would do a hull lot o’ good.
He could tell us, right off the bat, who it was knocked
him out; then, without any guessin’, the law could get in
its work. Personally, I don’t stand for any such foolishness
as went on at the Star-A ranch last night. I’m a
law and order man, I am, and such doin’s look too much
like anarchy to suit me.”</p>

<p>“What are Jake’s chances, doctor?”</p>

<p>“Mebby slim, mebby good. I’m puzzled to beat four
of a kind. A few hours more ought to tell the story,
though, one way or the other.”</p>

<p>“He was hit with a club?”</p>

<p>“I wouldn’t say that.”</p>

<p>“Or the butt of a revolver?”</p>

<p>“I wouldn’t say that, either. He was hit, an’ laid out
senseless; but what it was hit him is more’n I can savvy.”</p>

<p>“The blow was on the head, wasn’t it?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span></p>

<p>“Toby sure. It wouldn’t have grabbed his wits if it
hadn’t been on the head.”</p>

<p>“Do you think that Nate Dunbar could have ridden up
behind Phelps and struck him a blow on the head with a
quirt handle?”</p>

<p>“It wasn’t a quirt handle. I’m darned if I know what
it was, as I was jest sayin’. And I’ve been tellin’ both
Hank and Bloom that Nate Dunbar couldn’t have done
it, that Nate would have used the business end of a
shooter and not bothered with the thing&mdash;whatever it was&mdash;that
collided with Jake’s head. But they’re set in their
notions an’ won’t listen to reason.”</p>

<p>“Dunbar did it!” cried Phelps.</p>

<p>“He shore did!” agreed Bloom; “and Buffalo Bill sent
Nate Dunbar after Jake so’t he could do it.”</p>

<p>“Bloom,” said the scout, “you’re a cur dog. As an
officer of the law, you should be trying to bring evil-doers
to justice and bring peace on the Brazos. But
you’re doing neither. All your energy is expended in
fomenting trouble and discord. But we’ll settle this matter
once and for all. You’ll know, presently, just what
happened to Jake. I invite you, and Phelps, and the doctor
to ride with me.”</p>

<p>“It’s a trap!” yelped Bloom. “He’s layin’ for us,
Phelps.”</p>

<p>“Hush your yaup!” cried the doctor, “or I’ll give you
somethin’ that’ll make you feel real bad. Phelps is going
with Buffalo Bill; so’m I; so’re you. Do you understand
me? As a man with the free and unrestricted right of
franchise, a man who voted for you for sheriff, you’re
going, Bloom, or I’ll see to it that you’re everlastingly
snowed under at the next election. Phelps is going because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>
I say so, and that’s why. Git your hosses. While
you’re about it, git mine. Vamos!”</p>

<p>“You can boss Bloom,” answered Phelps, “but you can’t
boss me. I’m staying here, with Jake.”</p>

<p>The doctor stepped to the door.</p>

<p>“Prouther!” he called.</p>

<p>“Hyer!” answered the voice of Prouther.</p>

<p>“Get up Phelps’ hoss, and Bloom’s, and mine. We’re
goin’ to take a hossback ride through this beautiful morning
quiet. Pronto, boy, pronto!”</p>

<p>“On the jump.”</p>

<p>The doctor turned back, pulled a cigar from his pocket,
bit off the end and scratched a match.</p>

<p>“Sorry I ain’t got another,” said he.</p>

<p>“Look here, doc,” fussed Phelps, “you can’t handle me
like this.”</p>

<p>“I can’t, hey?” returned the doctor, puffing at his
weed. “I’m doing it, Hank, and you say I can’t. Poof!
Why, if I wanted to, I could rope, down and tie you.
Buffalo Bill says he’s going to settle this mystery about
Jake.”</p>

<p>“It ain’t any mystery,” scowled Bloom. “He’s fixed
up something to make it look as though Dunbar
didn’t&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>There was a tramp of feet. The next moment, Buffalo
Bill had Bloom against the wall and was twisting his
fingers about his throat.</p>

<p>“Say you didn’t mean that,” said the scout.</p>

<p>The sheriff glared and stuttered.</p>

<p>“Out with it!” went on the scout.</p>

<p>“I&mdash;d-d-didn’t mean it&mdash;&mdash;” gurgled Bloom.</p>

<p>“That will do.” Buffalo Bill threw the sheriff from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>
him. “There’s a yellow streak in Bloom, doctor,” he
added, “that has to be handled just so.”</p>

<p>“I’ve noticed it before,” agreed the doctor. “Bloom
means well&mdash;sometimes&mdash;but he’s got a poor way of
showing it&mdash;at all times. However, he ain’t such a bad
sheriff, where his personal likes and dislikes don’t get
tangled up with his duty. Don’t get sore, Bloom,” he
added, to the sheriff; “I felt like doing the same thing
to you when your mouth went off like that. Watch yourself,
man, or your tongue will do harm for you.”</p>

<p>Bloom was angry. It happened, however, that the
doctor was a politician. Whatever the doctor said, in politics
in that county, was usually what the voters abided by.
Nothing was to be gained by rowing with the doctor.</p>

<p>“I want to do my duty,” declared Bloom, caressing his
throat, “but I’ll be durn if I want to stand for Cody and
all his high and mighty purceedin’s. When he blows in
here and begins straightening things out on the Brazos,
does he come to me and ask my help? Nary. For all he
cared, the sheriff didn’t amount to a whoop. He just
went it himself.”</p>

<p>“So there’s your grouch, is it?” grinned the doctor.
“Jealous! Jealous old sore-head! Cody’s doing things
and never asking you to chime in and help. Oh, gosh!
Well, what’s the odds so long as a good live man brings
order out of chaos? Makes the bird of peace wing
brightly up and down the river without molting a
feather? Puts all you cattlemen into harmony with each
other? Besides, it appears to me as though he’s asking
you to do something now, and you’re hanging out about
it. You travel with Hank and me, Bloom, or I’ll get
your scalp when you’re up for nomination next time.
That’s about as flat as I can make it.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span></p>

<p>At that moment, Prouther came up with the horses.</p>

<p>“All aboard!” called the doctor, picking up his hat from
a chair. “Here’s where we ride with the king of scouts,
and find out what he’s got to show us. I’ll bet a pill
against a dose of salts it’s worth while. Come, gentlemen!”</p>

<p>“Will Jake be all right?” asked Phelps anxiously.</p>

<p>“We can’t help him any by staying,” answered the
doctor. “Maybe if we clear out he’ll come around while
we’re gone. I’ll have Prouther come in and sit with him.”</p>

<p>The doctor hurried into a rear room for a moment, and
then reappeared.</p>

<p>“Same’s usual,” said he, wrinkling his forehead perplexedly.
“Ain’t it fierce that I can’t do a thing? Well,
anyhow, over the hills and far away with Scout Cody.
Chirk up, gents! I feel as though something important
was about to happen. Oh, my prophetic soul!”</p>

<p>The doctor was a queer one. The scout had never seen
much of him before, but he was wonderfully taken with
the old fellow. He was an able aide in this emergency,
that was certain.</p>

<p>The three men went out and mounted. The doctor
kept sharp eyes on Phelps. He seemed perfectly sure of
Bloom and gave him scant attention.</p>

<p>“How long will we be gone, Buffalo Bill?” asked the
doctor.</p>

<p>“Two or three hours,” answered the scout; “I can’t say
exactly.”</p>

<p>“I can’t go away from here for two or three hours,”
expostulated Phelps.</p>

<p>“Tut!” returned the doctor, “you can stay away six, if
necessary, in order to get to the bottom of these mysteries.
It’s time, well spent, Hank. Prouther,” he added<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>
to the cowboy who held his horse while he mounted,
“go in and sit with Jake till we come back. You won’t
have to do anything but stay with him. He’s not very
good company, Jake ain’t, but I’m hoping for the best.
Go on, Prouther.”</p>

<p>Prouther looked toward Phelps to have the order confirmed.
Phelps nodded, half sullenly. Meanwhile, the scout had been
mounting Bear Paw.</p>

<p>“Which way, Buffalo Bill?” called the doctor.</p>

<p>“Up the hill,” answered the scout. “We’ll ride, first,
for the forks of the trail, where it separates for the Circle-B
and for Hackamore.”</p>

<p>Bloom and Phelps evidently did not care to ride beside
the scout. They started on ahead, leaving the doctor to
follow with Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>“What do you expect to prove by this little junket,
my friend?” asked the doctor, as they rode.</p>

<p>“I expect to prove whether or not Lige Benner had
anything to do with the shooting of Ace Hawkins, for
one thing,” was the reply.</p>

<p>“He didn’t&mdash;take it from me.”</p>

<p>“I don’t think he did, either, but Benner himself is
anxious to have that point cleared up.”</p>

<p>“Jerry, Lige’s brother,” mused the doctor, “is Lige’s
worst enemy. Lige has fired Jerry. Sent him to Houston,
with a couple of thousand and his blessing. He went
two days ago. Pity he ever came to the Circle-B at all.
Lige Benner is a pretty good sort of a fellow, Cody,
down at bottom.”</p>

<p>“I believe that, too, after the way he stood by us at
the Star-A last night.”</p>

<p>“What else do you expect to prove by this trip of
ours this morning?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span></p>

<p>“Nate Dunbar’s innocence in the matter of Jake’s injury.”</p>

<p>“I had already gathered that. Anything more to be
brought out?”</p>

<p>“Well, yes. For instance, we’re to get back the pay-roll
money and Jake’s saddle.”</p>

<p>“Better and better. Go on. You delight me.”</p>

<p>“And then, doctor,” said the scout, “we will prove how
Jake got his injury.”</p>

<p>“Whoop!” tuned up the doctor. “I can’t begin to tell
you how glad I am that I’ve come. My friend, you’re a
man after my own heart. You do things. While the
trouble pot is boiling on the Brazos, you keep busy and
find out the reason&mdash;then settle the reason. There is
much cause for rejoicing m the fact that you paid the
Brazos country a visit, just when you did. No man but
you could have laid hold here and man handled this
emergency in the correct way. I take off my hat to you.”</p>

<p>The scout laughed.</p>

<p>“You’ll have to take it off to some of my pards, this
trip,” said he.</p>

<p>Bloom and Phelps, who had been galloping at a good
pace along the trail, suddenly drew rein.</p>

<p>“I reckon this is as far as I’m going,” declared Phelps.</p>

<p>“Now, Hank!” protested the doctor indulgently,
“what’s broke loose now?”</p>

<p>“Here’s the trap I told you about,” snapped Bloom.
“Look ahead, there!”</p>

<p>The forks of the trail were in sight. A group of riders
were in plain view.</p>

<p>“A trap, eh?” jeered the doctor. “Why, Hattie Dunbar
is one of that outfit. Not afraid of Mrs. Dunbar, are
you, Bloom? And there’s Lige Benner, too, on my soul!!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>
Why, you’re old friends of Benner’s, both of you. If he
can be riding in peace and amity with Mr. and Mrs.
Dunbar and Perry, you fellows ought not to object. And
is that Sim Pierce? It is. Sim’s everybody’s friend. Old
Nomad is with the lot, and the little Piute Indian. What’s
to be feared from that trap, Bloom?”</p>

<p>The sheriff swore under his breath. He had no logical
answer ready.</p>

<p>“How much farther have we got to go from the
forks?” demanded Phelps of the scout.</p>

<p>“About a mile.”</p>

<p>“Ride on, Hank,” urged the doctor. “The quicker we
ride, the quicker we’ll be going back to the H-P ranch
and Jake. Don’t waste time like this.”</p>

<p>Phelps rattled his spurs and made off. Bloom rushed
on beside him.</p>

<p>“Waugh!” yelled the old trapper, waving his hat as
those from the H-P ranch came up; “blamed ef ye didn’t
do ther trick. Got Sawbones, too, an’ our friend, the
sheriff. Whoop!”</p>

<p>There were no greetings exchanged between Phelps,
Bloom and the other party. The doctor was gay and
civil with all, and especially with Mrs. Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Now, then, amigos,” called the scout, “follow my lead.
It won’t be long before you get developments.”</p>

<p>The scout set the pace, and behind him came the
strangely assorted party. The course carried the riders
along that part of the trail which the scout and the trapper
had covered on the preceding day when riding to
Hackamore. They galloped around the base of the hill,
on for a hundred yards, then swerved to pass into a gully
between two uplifts.</p>

<p>“I wonder whatever we’re comin’ in hyar fer?” muttered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>
Nomad. “Ef I had ther sense of er locoed steer,
mebbyso I could figger out which way the wind lies.
But I kain’t. I’ll hev ter wait till somebody drors a diagram,
an’ explains in words o’ one syllable.”</p>

<p>A little way through the gully the party came upon a
ruinous adobe shack. In front of the door stood Wild
Bill Hickok.</p>

<p>“Hello!” called Hickok. “You’re bringing quite a
party, Pard Cody. Come in.”</p>

<p>“Are we in time?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“Just about,” was the answer.</p>

<p>“Dismount, friends,” said Buffalo Bill. “Little Cayuse
will take care of the horses while we’re in the ’dobe.”</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.<br />
<span class="fs70">RED STEVE.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>The surprises began for old Nomad with this unexpected
meeting with Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“How’d ye know Hickok was hyar, Buffler?” the trapper
asked, as the party moved in the direction of the
adobe.</p>

<p>“Wild Bill came to the Star-A ranch last night,” answered
the scout, “and I went away with him.”</p>

<p>“Waugh! So ye was with Wild Bill when ye was
absent from the ranch, hey? Has he diskivered somethin’?”</p>

<p>“He has.”</p>

<p>“Whar’s ther baron?”</p>

<p>“We’ll see the baron later, Nick.”</p>

<p>The adobe shack had long been abandoned. It was
scarcely more than a shelter at best.</p>

<p>Buffalo Bill and his party were ushered into the hovel
by Wild Bill. On a blanket, at one side of the only
room the hut contained, lay a man groaning with pain and
with a bandage about his forehead.</p>

<p>“Red Steve!” gasped Lige Benner, pushing eagerly
forward.</p>

<p>“I don’t care who the nation he is,” growled the doctor,
“he’s a man that needs attention.”</p>

<p>“He’s already had attention, doc,” said Wild Bill.</p>

<p>“Not professional,” and the doctor’s critical eye surveyed
the rough bandage. “Why wasn’t a doctor called<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>
before?” he demanded, fixing an accusing eye on Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>“Because Red Steve wouldn’t have it. He swore he’d
kill himself if I went for a doctor. You see, Steve has
something on his mind. He was afraid he’d be landed
for the shooting of Ace Hawkins. I didn’t dare tell him
he was to have visitors this morning&mdash;but he’s got to a
point where he don’t much care what happens to him.
He’s got his ticket, friends.”</p>

<p>The doctor went down on his knees and began an examination.</p>

<p>“How did he get his ticket?” he demanded.</p>

<p>“The horns of Red Thunderbolt did the business for
Steve. When I found him he was about gone. I did what
I could to keep him alive, and, when I got the chance, I
rode to the Star-A ranch. There were a lot of men
hanging around the ranch, and I hadn’t a notion what was
tip, so I sneaked in and sent Cayuse for Pard Cody.”</p>

<p>“Sufferin’ twisters!” exclaimed old Nomad. “Say, Buffler,
was Red Steve the feller we heard yell, back thar in
the trail yisterday? Is he the feller thet fired the shot,
then dug out while we was mixin’ things with Red Thunderbolt?”</p>

<p>“He’s the man, Nick,” answered the scout. “Red Steve
was badly hurt, but he managed to get into this gully
and into this ruined ’dobe. If we’d known who he was,”
the scout added, “we might have found him long ago.”</p>

<p>“Blame’ quare how things turns out some times,” muttered
Nomad.</p>

<p>Red Steve’s eyes were closed, and he seemed scarcely
to breathe. Only a groan, now and then coming through
his tense lips, gave evidence that he was still alive.</p>

<p>The doctor looked up and shook his head.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span></p>

<p>“Red Steve is a whole lot nearer the Great Divide
than what Jake is,” announced the doctor.</p>

<p>“He’s got to talk before he goes,” cried Benner; “he’s
got to stay here long enough to do me justice.”</p>

<p>“He must say something for Nate, too,” put in Mrs.
Dunbar. “He must tell about the attack on Jake Phelps
and clear Nate. Doctor! Do what you can! He must
talk!”</p>

<p>In their excitement and apprehension, those interested
in what Red Steve had to say showed themselves in
rather a merciless light. The doctor raised his hand.</p>

<p>“I haven’t my medicine case with me,” said he, “but if
we had a little liquor&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>He turned and peered at Bloom. The latter, somewhat
reluctantly, drew a flask from his pocket. The doctor,
lifting Red Steve’s head with one arm, pressed the
flask to his lips. A swallow of the fiery liquor gurgled
down the desperado’s throat.</p>

<p>“Get him to talk about Nate first,” said Perry.</p>

<p>“It isn’t necessary for him to say anything about Nate,
Perry,” returned the scout. “We’ll prove Nate’s innocence
in another way. Anyhow, from the very facts of
the case, it’s certain Red Steve had nothing to do with
what happened to Jake Phelps. Red Steve was wounded
by Red Thunderbolt several hours before that attack was
made on Jake. That eliminates Red Steve.”</p>

<p>A broken cry escaped Mrs. Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Cheer up, Mrs. Dunbar!” said the scout reassuringly.
“Nate will be freed of all suspicion absolutely. Just be
patient.”</p>

<p>“I said all along,” scowled Phelps, “that Red Steve
wasn’t the one who made that attack on Jake.”</p>

<p>“So did I,” seconded the sheriff.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span></p>

<p>“But you said it was Nate, you fellows,” put in the
scout, “and that’s where you were wrong.”</p>

<p>“I’ll believe it when you prove it,” said Phelps, with
a glaring look at Dunbar.</p>

<p>“Hist!” breathed the doctor.</p>

<p>All eyes turned to Red Steve. He was staring upward
into the doctor’s face. It was plain to every one that
he had not many minutes to live&mdash;perhaps not many seconds.</p>

<p>“Steve!” called Lige Benner, bending down. “Don’t
you know me?”</p>

<p>“Share I know ye,” was the gruff response&mdash;as gruff,
at least, as a feeble voice could make it.</p>

<p>“Tell these people,” went on Benner, “who it was shot
Ace Hawkins!”</p>

<p>“It won’t do me any hurt ter tell that, I reckon,” answered
Red Steve stumblingly. “Ye got it out o’ me at
the ranch, Benner, an’ ye turned me adrift. It was yer
fiend of a brother that put me up ter it. Jerry Benner
said fer me ter do it. He didn’t think Hawkins was actin’
right, Jerry didn’t. He thought Hawkins was playin’
double with him an’ Lige. Lige said he wouldn’t stand
fer no shootin’, but Jerry says fer me ter go ahead an’
never mind Lige. So I did, an’ it was me bored Hawkins.”</p>

<p>“And I didn’t have a thing to do with it?” demanded
Benner.</p>

<p>“Nary a thing. Ye didn’t know it was done till ye
found it out from Jerry. Then ye fired me. I expected
ye would send me ter Hackamore, an’ hey me put in the
lockup, an’ tried, so I hoofed it away from ther Circle-B.
Then&mdash;then I met that ther horned killer in the road. I
was on foot an’ couldn’t git away. He come at me&mdash;an’<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>
right thar’s whar I got my gruel. I heered some’un in
the trail behind me, an’ I was afeared it mout be some’un
chasin’ arter me, so I crawled inter the gully, an’ ter
this place.”</p>

<p>Red Steve sank back weakly. Once more Bloom’s
flask was used, and he revived a little.</p>

<p>“Wild Bill Hickok,” went on Red Steve painfully, “has
done a heap fer me sence he located me hyer last night.
He ain’t got no cause ter think much o’ me, but he done
all a feller could ter bring me back ter y’arth.”</p>

<p>“I wanted to save you for the law, Steve,” said Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>“I know what ye wanted, but&mdash;I&mdash;fooled&mdash;” He
paused and pulled himself together with a fierce effort.
“I fooled the law,” he finished. “Allers&mdash;allers knowed
I&mdash;I would.”</p>

<p>Then, again, he dropped back. The doctor’s fingers
touched his pulse.</p>

<p>“Red Steve has taken the One-way Trail, friends,”
said the doctor gravely. “I hold that there’s something
good in the worst of us&mdash;even in Red Steve. Let us hope
that there was enough good in him to help the poor fellow
where he’s going now.”</p>

<p>The doctor turned and went out of the hut. Wild Bill
gently pulled a fold of the blanket over the face on the
floor.</p>

<p>“I’ll send some of my boys from the Star-A to put him
away,” said Lige Benner.</p>

<p>“We’re not ready to go to the Star-A ranch yet, Benner,”
remarked the scout.</p>

<p>“How much longer will we be?”</p>

<p>“Not much.”</p>

<p>“Red Thunderbolt scores another victim,” said Perry.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span></p>

<p>“I wonder when that maverick will finally be put out of
commission?”</p>

<p>“Perhaps that question can be answered if you come
with me, Perry,” suggested the scout. “You’ll go along,
Hickok, and show us the place,” he added. “I was there
last night, but it might take a little time for me to find it
to-day.”</p>

<p>“There’s nothing more to keep me here,” said Wild
Bill.</p>

<p>Thoughtfully, the party left the hut. Hank Phelps
seemed in more tractable mood. The tragic end of Red
Steve’s life story had wrought a deep impression.</p>

<p>“How’re you goin’ to prove Nate Dunbar didn’t get
the best of Jake?” asked Bloom of the scout.</p>

<p>“By a very simple method,” was the answer, “but it will
be as conclusive as it is simple.”</p>

<p>“Have your pards nabbed the feller that done it?”</p>

<p>“They have.”</p>

<p>“I reckon you’ve got hold o’ some’un who’s willing to
shoulder the blame jest to clear Nate Dunbar of&mdash;&mdash;”</p>

<p>The scout whirled in his tracks and gave Bloom a
square look. Bloom’s words died on his lips immediately.</p>

<p>“That’s right,” said the scout, “step carefully, Bloom.
We’ve had one row over your recklessness in using language.
Our next row will be more serious. Mount,
friends,” he went on to the rest. “I’ll not be detaining
you much longer.”</p>

<p>They all took to their saddles again. This time Wild
Bill took the lead. The course they traversed was back
into the trail, then off toward the timbered bottoms of
the Brazos.</p>

<p>“We’ve had er s’prise er two,” observed the old trapper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>
to the doctor, “an’ now thar’s more comin’. Got any
idee what we’ll find next, doc?”</p>

<p>“Not the slightest, my friend,” was the reply, “but if
the two Bills are back of it we can rest assured that it
will be worth while, amply worth while.”</p>

<p>The first sign that the party had of their proximity to
their destination was given by a voice very familiar to
the pards.</p>

<p>“Dis vay, people! Here iss vere you vant to go! I
peen here waiting so long as I can’t tell. Dis vay,
bards!”</p>

<p>The baron showed himself in front of a copse of
bushes. He was on foot, and seemed to have been on
guard. But what was he guarding?</p>

<p>“Howdy, baron!” said old Nomad. “You an’ Wild Bill
appear ter hev been doin’ a few things.”</p>

<p>“You bed my life!” jubilated the baron, “aber ve ditn’t
know how mooch ve hat tone ondil Puffalo Pill came
oudt dis vay lashdt night und toldt us. Ach, Mrs. Tunpar,
I vas so habby dot I vas aple to helup!”</p>

<p>The baron made his nicest bow to Mrs. Dunbar&mdash;he
had always an eye for the fair&mdash;and the lady favored
him with a smile in return.</p>

<p>“What have you done, baron?” she asked.</p>

<p>“Puffalo Pill vill show you dot. He knows aboudt it.”</p>

<p>Again the riders dismounted, and left their animals
with Cayuse; then they followed Wild Bill, Buffalo Bill,
and the baron behind the screen of bushes to a slope
leading down to the water’s edge.</p>

<p>The slope itself was clear of bushes and trees, but at
the top of it were two large sycamores, growing quite
close together. Tightly wedged between the trees was
a broken and twisted object which had once been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>
saddle. To the saddle a pair of saddlebags were attached.
The bags were buckled tightly, and seemed not
to have suffered very materially.</p>

<p>But it was not the saddle nor the bags that aroused
wonder in the minds of the spectators over the mysterious
ways of fate. A stout rope was attached to the
saddle, while a second rope was writhed around one of
the sycamores, one coil wedged over the loose end in
such a manner as to make the rope fast. Both ropes&mdash;the
one from the tree and the one from the saddle&mdash;passed
between the two trees and down the slope. They
ended at the carcass of a steer. At the end of each
rope was a tightly drawn noose&mdash;a noose that encircled
the steer’s head at the root of the wide-branching horns.</p>

<p>The steer’s head was drawn grewsomely backward, so
that both ropes were taut as fiddle strings between the
trees and the horns.</p>

<p>It was a most amazing situation&mdash;one to be understood
only by a sorting of the details.</p>

<p>“Great guns!” exclaimed Lige Benner. “Why, that’s
Red Thunderbolt.”</p>

<p>“The same,” said Wild Bill. “Red Thunderbolt, the
man-killing maverick. He has Dusenberry’s life and
Red Steve’s charged up against him.”</p>

<p>“Who killed Red Thunderbolt?” queried Perry.
“Was it you, Wild Bill, or the baron?”</p>

<p>“Neither of us,” answered Hickok. “Red Thunderbolt
wasn’t made to bite the dust by means of a bullet.
Can’t you see what happened? He rushed through between
those trees, trailing two ropes, one with a saddle
attached; the saddle wedged against the tree trunks,
and the other rope twisted around one of the sycamores.
Red Thunderbolt charged down the slope. He was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>
brought up short and thrown, with the result that he
broke his neck.”</p>

<p>Exclamations of wonder came from those who had
just reached the scene. Even Bloom had something to
say about the queerness of it all.</p>

<p>“It don’t seem possible, not at all possible,” said the
doctor, “and yet, friends, we have the proof plainly before
our eyes. Truth, they say, is stranger than fiction.
I’m beginning to believe it.”</p>

<p>“There’s also a saying, doctor,” said the scout, “that
truth, crushed to earth, will rise again. By this accident
to Red Thunderbolt, several things are proved. That
loose rope&mdash;the one whose end is wrapped around the
sycamore&mdash;belongs to me. I dropped it over Red Thunderbolt’s
horns yesterday on the trail. When the steer
got to the end of the rope, he jerked it away from my
saddle and went on.”</p>

<p>“But where did the other rope come from?” asked
Perry.</p>

<p>“Phelps,” said the scout, turning on the cattleman, “I
wish you’d examine that smashed saddle wedged between
the trees.”</p>

<p>“No need for me to examine it,” answered Phelps.
“I’ve already recognized it, Buffalo Bill&mdash;not only the
saddle, but the saddlebags, as well. They’re Jake’s.”</p>

<p>“The saddle and saddlebags he took with him when
he went to Hackamore after the pay-roll money?”</p>

<p>“Yes.”</p>

<p>“You’re positive of that, are you?”</p>

<p>“Of course I am. There can’t be any mistake.”</p>

<p>“Very good. Now, let me sketch for you, very briefly,
what happened to Jake Phelps. On his way home from
town he encountered Red Thunderbolt. The maverick<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>
was still trailing the rope he had stolen from me. Very
likely the steer charged Jake. Red Thunderbolt must
have been in a killing mood after his experience with
Red Steve, Nomad, and me yesterday. Jake didn’t get
out of the way&mdash;perhaps he couldn’t. He had only a
revolver.</p>

<p>“Of course, a revolver is not very good artillery for
attacking a veteran maverick like Red Thunderbolt. Jake,
very foolishly, instead of taking to his heels and trying
to make his escape, used his rope. He made a good cast,
for, as you see, his noose dropped right over mine.
Then, when Red Thunderbolt got to the end of the rope,
the saddle cinches broke, and the saddle and saddlebags
were stripped away. Jake was unhorsed, and quite likely
got a bad tumble. The steer charged him, and one of
the steer’s horns inflicted that peculiar bruise on Jake’s
head&mdash;the injury which suggested that a club or some
other blunt instrument had been used.”</p>

<p>The doctor threw up his hands.</p>

<p>“Holy mackerel!” he cried; “no wonder I couldn’t
figure out what it was that had played hob with Jake.
This is certainly the queerest thing that ever happened
on the banks of the Brazos. Every detail of it is queer,
and the farther you look into it the queerer it becomes.
Buffalo Bill,” and here he faced the scout, “you and
your pards have given this cattle country something to
talk about for many a month to come.”</p>

<p>“Do you grasp the logic of these events, Phelps?”
queried the scout, giving his attention to the H-P
rancher. “Are you willing to admit that circumstances,
as we find them here, prove Nate Dunbar’s innocence?”</p>

<p>“I don’t know what to think,” mumbled Phelps.</p>

<p>“He don’t know what to think!” mimicked the doctor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span>
“Say, Hank, if you’ve got brains why don’t you use
’em? Here’s a chance for you to recede gracefully from
the fool position you’ve occupied ever since Jake was
hurt. What are you going to do about it?”</p>

<p>“I’m going to take the facts as I find them,” replied
Phelps. “But, first, I’m going to see what’s in those
saddlebags.”</p>

<p>“That’s right,” approved Buffalo Bill. “I was careful
to instruct the baron and Wild Bill not to let a thing be
touched. Everything here is just as they found it. Go
ahead and look through the saddlebags.”</p>

<p>Phelps went to the broken and twisted saddle, and cut
the saddlebags away. Then he unbuckled the stout
straps, and drew forth a canvas bag full of jingling yellow
wealth. Untying the bag, he looked into it.</p>

<p>“The gold is here,” said he. “It’s not necessary to
count it. I’m willing to concede that the bag is just as
it was when Jake tucked it away in the bags.”</p>

<p>“Then you’re satisfied?” asked the scout.</p>

<p>“I am&mdash;entirely so.”</p>

<p>“Now say you’ve made a fool of yourself,” counseled
the doctor, “and also thank Buffalo Bill and Benner for
keeping your men from bringing shame and disgrace on
the cattle country last night.”</p>

<p>“I was a little hasty,” acknowledged Phelps, “and I’m
sorry I took the attitude I did; still, I don’t see how I
could have thought any differently, considering the circumstances.”</p>

<p>“What about you, Bloom?” asked the scout. “Haven’t
you got anything to say about this?”</p>

<p>“Not a thing,” answered the sheriff sourly.</p>

<p>“Oh, that’s Bloom for you!” cried the doctor sarcastically.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>
“His yellow streak is cropping out again.
What’s wrong with this evidence, Bloom?”</p>

<p>“It could have been manufactured,” growled Bloom,
with an uneasy look in the scout’s direction.</p>

<p>“Sure it could!” taunted the doctor. “Wild Bill and
the baron could have caught Red Thunderbolt, broken
the steer’s neck, and then fixed all this up. But where
did they get the saddle and the saddlebags? I reckon
they’re the ones who stole them from Jake, aren’t they?
Say, Bloom, you’re the limit. If I didn’t think such a
terrible lot of your family, I’d come over there and kick
you down the slope and into the river. He’s got a fine
family,” the doctor explained to those around him. “I
brought his boy through the measles last year. Fine
boy, too. Nothing like the sheriff.”</p>

<p>“I believe what my judgment tells me to believe,” cried
Bloom on the defensive.</p>

<p>“Your judgment is a fearful and a wonderful thing,
Bloom. I’m glad not many people are equipped with the
same sort. I guess, friends,” he went on, “that there’s
nothing more to be gained here. Nate Dunbar has been
proved innocent of the trouble that happened to Jake
Phelps; Lige Benner has been cleared of every suspicion
of complicity in what happened to Ace Hawkins; and
Buffalo Bill and pards have brought peace and good will
to the Brazos range. I reckon that’s enough. Suppose
we ride? I want to get back to the H-P outfit and see
how Jake’s getting along.”</p>

<p>The scout left Nomad and Cayuse with Wild Bill and
the baron. They were to get the scout’s rope and Red
Thunderbolt’s hide. There was a reward of one thousand
dollars out for the maverick, and the baron was
laying his plans to file a request for the money.</p>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span></p>

<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.<br />
<span class="fs70">CONCLUSION.</span></h2>
</div>


<p>On the way back to the Star-A ranch, close to which
those from Phelps’ place would have to ride, a scurry of
dust in the road claimed the attention of the riders.</p>

<p>“Mebbyso,” remarked old Nomad, “trouble’s goin’ te
bust through thet cloud o’ dust. Pard Buffler an’ compadres
don’t no more’n git time ter breathe arter one
shake-up than another hits ’em. Who’s thet shackin’
this-a-way?”</p>

<p>When the form of the galloping horseman emerged
from the cloud, the man was recognized as Prouther.</p>

<p>“Something’s happened to Jake!” exclaimed Phelps,
fearing the worst.</p>

<p>“Don’t lose your nerve, Hank, till you hear what’s
happened to him,” cautioned the doctor. “I’m wondering
how Prouther was able to guess where we were.”</p>

<p>When he came close, Prouther jerked his horse back
on its haunches.</p>

<p>“Waal, here ye aire!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t reckon
I could spot ye, but I had a notion ye rode over ter the
Star-A ranch, seein’ as how Buffler Bill was with ye.
So I shot along in this direction. Ye wasn’t at the
Star-A, but them Circle-B men reckoned ye was some
place over hyer. So hyer I come, an’ hyer ye aire. I
reckon thar’s been a mistake, Hank.”</p>

<p>“I reckon there has,” said the doctor dryly, “several
mistakes. Why did you leave Jake? Didn’t I tell you
to stay with him?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span></p>

<p>“Waal, doc,” said Prouther, “he come to.”</p>

<p>“Whoop!” jubilated the doctor. “He came to, eh?
Then he’ll pull through. That was all I was waiting for.
Was he rational?”</p>

<p>“Meanin’ which?” asked Prouther innocently.</p>

<p>“Dunderhead! Was he in his right senses when he
woke up?”</p>

<p>“He was. It’s what he said as brung me hyer at sich
a clip.”</p>

<p>“What did he say?”</p>

<p>“He allowed it was Red Thunderbolt as made him all
the trouble.”</p>

<p>“Ha! Better late than never. This is right from
headquarters. Bloom! Do you hear that, Bloom?”</p>

<p>Bloom heard it, but he made no comments.</p>

<p>“What else did Jake say?” asked Phelps eagerly.</p>

<p>“Said he was ridin’ fer home when Red Thunderbolt
charged him,” went on Prouther; “he said Nate Dunbar
didn’t have nothin’ ter do with it. Jake said he tried ter
rope Thunderbolt, an’ the steer galloped on with his
saddle an’ saddlebags, leaving Jake on the ground.
Jake was some shook up, and he was climbin’ to his feet
an’ rubbin’ his eyes when he see Thunderbolt comin’ at
him full tilt. Thunderbolt landed. The sunshine was
blotted out fer Jake, an’ thet’s all he kin recollect until
he woke up, with me settin’ by him fannin’ him. I was
afeared,” Prouther added, “that Bloom might be doin’
somethin’ with Dunbar. That’s why I pulled out ter find
you all.”</p>

<p>“I reckon this case is double proof!” laughed the doctor.
“Say, Prouther, you were one of the crazy men
who came to the Star-A last night to ‘get’ Nate Dunbar.
Now how do you feel?”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span></p>

<p>“Meachin’,” answered Prouther promptly, “meachin’ as
sin. I’m a heap sorry for it all, Dunbar,” he added
sheepishly.</p>

<p>“All’s well that ends well,” said the doctor. “Maybe,
if you cowpunchers are good from now on, Dunbar will
overlook that little play.”</p>

<p>“You’re sure Jake will live now, are you, doc?” asked
Phelps.</p>

<p>“Want me to sing it?” grunted the doctor. “Of course
I’m sure. He’ll be as well as ever in a week. The first
thing, after he’s up, you’ve got to make him do something.”</p>

<p>“What’s that?”</p>

<p>“Why, steer him over to the Star-A, and make him
shake hands with Dunbar.”</p>

<p>“I’ll do it, doc, and I’ll begin by shaking hands with
Dunbar myself.”</p>

<p>They had reached the point where the north and south
trail branched, the branch leading to the Star-A ranch.</p>

<p>Phelps rode up to Dunbar, and offered his hand. Dunbar
lost no time in taking it. The hand grip went
around, Perry, Mrs. Dunbar, Buffalo Bill, and Benner all
coming in for their share of the reconciliation.</p>

<p>“Peace on the Brazos from now henceforward, eh,
Phelps?” asked Benner.</p>

<p>“Yes,” replied Phelps. “I’ve had enough of the squabbling.”</p>

<p>“Same here. Red Thunderbolt’s out of the running,
too. I’ll hand five hundred over to Wild Bill and the
baron, if you will?”</p>

<p>“I’ll send the money this afternoon.”</p>

<p>“Bully! I’ll do the same. Thunderbolt wasn’t shot,
but it was the scout’s rope and Jake’s saddle that landed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>
him. The scout’s rope is good for my five hundred to
the baron.”</p>

<p>“And the truth of this business, first brought out by
the help of that trailing saddle of Jake’s,” said Phelps,
“is worth five hundred to me.”</p>

<p>“Then, truly,” chuckled the doctor, “all’s well that
ends well. When you’re in Hackamore next, Cody, come
and see me. I’d like to talk with you.”</p>

<p>“You’ll see me, doctor,” answered the scout.</p>

<p>“And I want you to pay me another visit at the H-P
ranch,” said Phelps. “I can promise you a different
welcome next time you come, Buffalo Bill.”</p>

<p>“I doubt whether I shall have time.”</p>

<p>“If he has any time,” put in Benner, “he’ll spend it
at the Circle-B.”</p>

<p>“Not at all,” cried Dunbar, “he’ll spend all his time at
the Star-A.”</p>

<p>“We’ll see about it later,” said the scout, and the party
separated.</p>

<p>Phelps, Prouther, the doctor, and Bloom rode off
toward the H-P ranch, while the scout and the others
turned their horses into the branch trail.</p>

<hr class="r30" />

<p>In front of the Star-A ranch, that night, the scout
and his pards sat long with the Star-A ranchers. It was
to be their last chat together, for in the early morning
Buffalo Bill and compadres were to fare toward Hackamore,
turning their backs permanently on the Brazos
country.</p>

<p>“It has peen a mighdy valuple nighdt’s vork for
Hickok und me,” piped the baron, shaking a bag of gold.
“I ditn’t t’ink, ven Vild Pill und me vas following dose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>
dracks oof der feller on foot, dot ve should make fife
hundert each oudt oof der pitzness. Sooch,” added the
baron with great complaisance, “is vat dey call luck.”</p>

<p>“It was a hard job we had, pards, all the same,” said
Wild Bill. “We found the steer first&mdash;tumbled over
those two ropes by pure accident. After we found the
steer, we went hunting for the man who owned the
saddle.”</p>

<p>“Und mitoudt looking indo der sattlepags,” cut in the
baron.</p>

<p>“It was an easy trail to follow&mdash;that one left by Red
Thunderbolt. The trailing saddle had gouged its way
over the earth, and any one could have taken that back
track. But we lost the gouge marks in the trail by that
gully. I was trying to pick them up when I found the
’dobe and Red Steve inside. That was enough for me.
I left the baron with Red Steve while I went to the
Star-A to tell Buffalo Bill, and when Pard Cody came
back with me we arranged that little surprise party. It
was a question whether Red Steve could last until the
scout got back with his party, but fortune favored us.”</p>

<p>“I vas sent py der sgout to see dot nopody tampered
mit der lay-oudt vere Red T’underboldt was,” added the
baron. “Und dere ve vas ven ve vas foundt.”</p>

<p>“It all worked out very nicely for Nate,” said Mrs.
Dunbar.</p>

<p>“With the scout and his pards to help in the working
out, Hattie,” dropped in Perry.</p>

<p>“We’ll none of us ever forget Buffalo Bill and his
pards,” declared Nate Dunbar, with much feeling.</p>

<p>“And I’ve erbout made up my mind ter one thing,”
said old Nomad.</p>

<p>“What’s that?” asked Wild Bill.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span></p>

<p>“Why,” chuckled the trapper, “I b’leeve thar’s more
excitement ter be had by a feller who’s huntin’ fer peace
than by a feller who’s huntin’ fer trouble. Hey, Buffler?”</p>

<p>“In some places, perhaps,” answered the scout, “and
in some circumstances. But not as a general thing,
Nick.”</p>

<p class="pfs90 p2 pb2">THE END.</p>

<div class="blockquot">
<p>No. 103 of the <span class="smcap">Buffalo Bill Border Stories</span>, entitled,
“Buffalo Bill’s Big Surprise,” is a thrilling story of Indian
warfare, haunted ranches, and exciting adventure. Every
boy that loves the great scout will want to read this book.</p>
</div>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">
<p class="pfs150">WESTERN STORIES ABOUT</p>
</div>

<p class="pfs240 bold">BUFFALO BILL</p>

<p class="pfs180 bold">Price, Fifteen Cents</p>

<p class="pfs135">Red-blooded Adventure Stories for Men</p>

<hr class="r15d" />

<div class="blockquot">
<p>There is no more romantic character in American history than
William F. Cody, or as he was internationally known, Buffalo
Bill. He, with Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Wild Bill Hickock,
General Custer, and a few other adventurous spirits, laid the
foundation of our great West.</p>

<p>There is no more brilliant page in American history than the
winning of the West. Never did pioneers live more thrilling
lives, so rife with adventure and brave deeds as the old scouts
and plainsmen. Foremost among these stands the imposing
figure of Buffalo Bill.</p>

<p>All of the books in this list are intensely interesting. They
were written by the close friend and companion of Buffalo Bill&mdash;Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham. They depict actual adventures
which this pair of hard-hitting comrades experienced, while the
story of these adventures is interwoven with fiction; historically
the books are correct.</p>
</div>

<p class="pfs90 bold"><em>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</em></p>

<hr class="fulld" />

<table class="autotable fs90" width="85%" summary="">
<tr>
<td class="tdr">1</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill, the Border King</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">2</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Raid</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">3</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bravery</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">4</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Trump Card</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">5</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Pledge</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">6</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Vengeance</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">7</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Iron Grip</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">8</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Capture</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">9</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Danger Line</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">10</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Comrades</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Reckoning</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">12</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Warning</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">13</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill at Bay</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">14</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Pards</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">15</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Brand</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">16</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Honor</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">17</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Phantom Hunt</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">18</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Fight With Fire</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">19</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Danite Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Ranch Riders</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">21</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Death Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">22</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Trackers</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">23</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Mid-air Flight</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">24</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill, Ambassador</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">25</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Air Voyage</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">26</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Secret Mission</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">27</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Long Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">28</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill Against Odds</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">29</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Hot Chase</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Redskin Ally</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">31</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Treasure Trove</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">32</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Hidden Foes</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">33</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Crack Shot</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">34</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Close Call</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">35</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Double Surprise</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">36</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Ambush</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">37</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Outlaw Hunt</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">38</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Border Duel</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">39</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bid for Fame</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Triumph</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">41</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Spy Trailer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">42</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Death Call</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">43</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">44</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Still Hunt</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">45</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Doomed Dozen</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">46</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Prairie Scout</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">47</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Guide</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">48</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">49</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Swoop</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">50</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Gold King</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">51</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill, Deadshot</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">52</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Buckskin Bravos</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">53</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Big Four</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">54</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s One-armed Pard</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">55</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Race for Life</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">56</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Return</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">57</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Conquest</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">58</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill to the Rescue</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">59</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Beautiful Foe</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">60</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Perilous Task</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">61</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Queer Find</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">62</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Blind Lead</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">63</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Resolution</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">64</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill, the Avenger</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">65</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Pledged Pard</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">66</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Weird Warning</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">67</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Wild Ride</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">68</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Redskin Stampede</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">69</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Mine Mystery</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">70</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Gold Hunt</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">71</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Daring Dash</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">72</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill on Hand</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">73</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Alliance</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">74</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Relentless Foe</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">75</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Midnight Ride</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">76</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Chivalry</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">77</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Girl Pard</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">78</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Private War</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">79</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Diamond Mine</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">80</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Big Contract</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">81</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Woman Foe</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">82</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Ruse</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">83</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Pursuit</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">84</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Hidden Gold</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">85</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill in Mid-air</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">86</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Queer Mission</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">87</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Verdict</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">88</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Ordeal</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">89</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Camp Fires</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">90</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Iron Nerve</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">91</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Rival</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">92</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Lone Hand</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">93</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Sacrifice</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">94</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Thunderbolt</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">95</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Black Fortune</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">96</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Wild Work</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">97</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Yellow Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">98</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Treasure Train</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">99</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bowie Duel</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">100</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Mystery Man</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">101</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bold Play</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">102</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill: Peacemaker</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">103</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Big Surprise</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">104</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Barricade</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">105</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Test</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">106</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Powwow</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">107</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Stern Justice</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">108</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Mysterious Friend</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">109</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Boomers</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">110</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Panther Fight</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">111</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Overland Mail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">112</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill on the Deadwood Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">113</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill in Apache Land</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">114</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Blindfold Duel</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">115</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Lone Camper</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">116</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Merry War</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">117</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Star Play</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">118</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s War Cry</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">119</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill on Black Panther’s Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">120</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Slim Chance</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">121</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill Besieged</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">122</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Bandit Round-up</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">123</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Surprise Party</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">124</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Lightning Raid</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">125</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill in Mexico</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">126</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Traitor Foe</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">127</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Tireless Chase</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">128</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Boy Bugler</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">129</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Sure Guess</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">130</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Record Jump</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">131</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill in the Land of Dread</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">132</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Clue</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">133</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Wolf Skin</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">134</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Twice Four Puzzle</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">135</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Devil Bird</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">136</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Indian’s Mascot</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">137</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill Entrapped</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">138</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Totem Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">139</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill at Fort Challis</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">140</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Determination</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">141</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Battle Axe</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">142</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Game with Fate</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">143</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Comanche Raid</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">144</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Aerial Island</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">145</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Lucky Shot</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">146</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Sioux Friends</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">147</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Supreme Test</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">148</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Boldest Strike</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">149</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill and the Red Hand</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">150</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Dance with Death</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">151</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Running Fight</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">152</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill in Harness</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">153</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill Corralled</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">154</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Buffalo Bill’s Waif of the West</td>
<td class="tdl">By Col. Prentiss Ingraham</td>
</tr>
</table>

<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />

<div class="chapter">

<p class="pfs135">BOOKS THAT NEVER GROW OLD</p>
</div>

<p class="pfs240">ALGER SERIES</p>

<p class="pfs120">Clean Adventure Stories for Boys</p>

<p class="pfs180">Price, Fifteen Cents</p>

<p class="pfs120"><em>The Most Complete List Published</em></p>

<hr class="r15d" />

<div class="blockquot">
<p>The following list does not contain all the books that Horatio
Alger wrote, but it contains most of them, and certainly the best.</p>

<p>Horatio Alger is to boys what Charles Dickens is to grown-ups.
His work is just as popular to-day as it was years ago.
The books have a quality, the value of which is beyond computation.</p>

<p>There are legions of boys of foreign parents who are being
helped along the road to true Americanism by reading these
books which are so peculiarly American in tone that the reader
cannot fail to absorb some of the spirit of fair play and clean
living which is so characteristically American.</p>

<p>In this list are included certain books by Edward Stratemeyer
upon whose shoulders the cloak of Horatio Alger has fallen.
They are books of the Alger type, and to a very large extent vie
with Mr. Alger’s books in interest and wholesomeness.</p>
</div>

<p class="pfs90 bold"><em>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</em></p>

<hr class="fulld" />

<table class="autotable fs90" width="85%" summary="">
<tr>
<td class="tdr">1</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Driven from Home</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">2</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">A Cousin’s Conspiracy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">3</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Ned Newton</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">4</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Andy Gordon</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">5</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tony, the Tramp</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">6</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Five Hundred Dollar Check</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">7</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Helping Himself</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">8</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Making His Way</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">9</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Try and Trust</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">10</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Only an Irish Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Jed, the Poorhouse Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">12</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Chester Rand</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">13</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Grit, the Young Boatman of Pine Point</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">14</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Joe’s Luck</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">15</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">From Farm Boy to Senator</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">16</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Outlaw</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">17</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Jack’s Ward</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">18</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Dean Dunham</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">19</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">In a New World</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Both Sides of the Continent</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">21</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Store Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">22</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Brave and Bold</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">23</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">A New York Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">24</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Bob Burton</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">25</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Adventurer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">26</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Julius, the Street Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">27</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Adrift in New York</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">28</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom Brace</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">29</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Struggling Upward</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Adventures of a New York Telegraph Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">31</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom Tracy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">32</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Acrobat</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">33</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Bound to Rise</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">34</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Hector’s Inheritance</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">35</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Do and Dare</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">36</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Tin Box</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">37</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom, the Bootblack</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">38</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Risen from the Ranks</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">39</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Shifting for Himself</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Wait and Hope</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">41</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Sam’s Chance</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">42</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Striving for Fortune</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">43</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Phil, the Fiddler</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">44</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Slow and Sure</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">45</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Walter Sherwood’s Probation</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">46</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Trials and Triumphs of Mark Mason</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">47</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Salesman</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">48</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Andy Grant’s Pluck</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">49</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Facing the World</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">50</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Luke Walton</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">51</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Strive and Succeed</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">52</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">From Canal Boy to President</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">53</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Erie Train Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">54</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Paul, the Peddler</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">55</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Miner</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">56</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Charlie Codman’s Cruise</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">57</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">A Debt of Honor</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">58</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Explorer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">59</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Ben’s Nugget</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">60</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Errand Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">61</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Frank and Fearless</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">62</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Frank Hunter’s Peril</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">63</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Adrift in the City</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">64</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom Thatcher’s Fortune</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">65</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom Turner’s Legacy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">66</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Dan, the Newsboy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">67</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Digging for Gold</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">68</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Lester’s Luck</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">69</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">In Search of Treasure</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">70</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Frank’s Campaign</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">71</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Bernard Brook’s Adventures</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">72</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Robert Coverdale’s Struggles</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">73</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Paul Prescott’s Charge</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">74</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Mark Manning’s Mission</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">75</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Rupert’s Ambition</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">76</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Sink or Swim</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">77</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Backwood’s Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">78</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Tom Temple’s Career</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">79</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Ben Bruce</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">80</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Musician</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">81</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Telegraph Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">82</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Work and Win</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">83</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Train Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">84</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Cash Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">85</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Herbert Carter’s Legacy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">86</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Strong and Steady</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">87</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Lost at Sea</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">88</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">From Farm to Fortune</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">89</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Young Captain Jack</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">90</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Joe, the Hotel Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">91</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Out for Business</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">92</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Falling in With Fortune</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">93</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Nelson, the Newsboy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">94</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Randy of the River</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">95</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Jerry, the Backwoods Boy</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">96</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Ben Logan’s Triumph</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">97</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Book Agent</td>
<td class="tdl">By Horatio Alger, Jr.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">98</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Last Cruise of _The Spitfire_</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">99</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Reuben Stone’s Discovery</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">100</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">True to Himself</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">101</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Richard Dare’s Venture</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">102</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Oliver Bright’s Search</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">103</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">To Alaska for Gold</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">104</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Auctioneer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">105</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Bound to Be an Electrician</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">106</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Shorthand Tom</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">107</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Fighting for His Own</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">108</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Joe, the Surveyor</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">109</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Larry, the Wanderer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">110</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Ranchman</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">111</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Lumbermen</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">112</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Explorers</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">113</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Boys of the Wilderness</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">114</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Boys of the Great Northwest</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">115</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Boys of the Gold Fields</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">116</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">For His Country</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">117</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Comrades in Peril</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">118</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Pearl Hunters</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">119</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">The Young Bandmaster</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">120</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Boys of the Fort</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">121</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">On Fortune’s Trail</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">122</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Lost in the Land of Ice</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">123</td>
<td class="tdc">&mdash;</td>
<td class="tdl">Bob, the Photographer</td>
<td class="tdl">By Edward Stratemeyer</td>
</tr>
</table>

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<div class="transnote">
<p class="center bold">Transcriber’s Notes</p>

<div class="blockquot">

<p class="noindent">The Table of Contents at the beginning of the book was created by the
transcriber.</p>

<p class="noindent">Inconsistencies in hyphenation such as “matter-of-fact”/“matter of
fact” have been maintained.</p>

<p class="noindent">Minor punctuation and spelling errors have been silently corrected
and, except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the
text, especially in dialogue, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have
been retained.</p>

</div>

<ol>
<li><a href="#tn2">Page 2</a>: “A Congress of the Rough-riders of the World” changed to “A
Congress of the Rough Riders of the World”.</li>

<li><a href="#tn76">Page 76</a>: “roared old Nomand, while the scout” changed to “roared old
Nomad, while the scout”.</li>

<li><a href="#tn124">Page 124</a>: “quereid the hunchback eagerly” changed to “queried the
hunchback eagerly”.</li>

<li><a href="#tn185">Page 185</a>: “I’m Buffalo Bill, anr a frienh” changed to “I’m Buffalo
Bill, and a friend”.</li>

<li><a href="#tn228">Page 228</a>: “more ter say about things in Haokamore” changed to “more
ter say about things in Hackamore”.</li>
</ol>
</div>

<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 64446 ***</div>
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