The two men, aided by the crew of the train that now came down the Bitter Creek grade, got the dead body of the outlaw back to Point of Rocks just as a mixed train from the east reached there, with Stanley and a detail of cavalry aboard. Stanley walked straight to Bucks, caught him by the shoulders, and shook him as if to make sure he was all right.
“Gave you a warm reception, did they, Bucks?”
“Moderately warm, colonel.”
Stanley shook his head. “It is all wrong. They never should have sent you out here alone,” he declared brusquely. “These superintendents seem to think they are railroading in Ohio instead of the Rocky Mountains. Dave,” he continued, turning to Hawk as the latter came up, “I hear you have just brought in Perry dead. What have we got here, anyway?”
“Some of the Medicine Bend gang,” returned Hawk tersely.
“What are they doing?”
“Evening up old scores, I guess.”
Stanley looked at the dead man as they laid him out on the platform: “And hastening their own day of reckoning,” he said. “There shall be no more of this if we have to drive every man of the gang out of the country. Who do you think was with Perry, Bob?” he demanded, questioning Scott.
“There is nothing to show that till we get them––and we ought to be after them now,” returned the scout. “But,” he added softly as he hitched his trousers, “I think one of the two might be young John Rebstock.”