Mainwaring had fired—and missed!
He advanced steadily until he touched the rope. Flinging down his useless pistol, he folded his arms on his breast and stood facing his enemy, motionless as a rock. There was not a tremor on his lips.
“It’s all over now!” whispered one of the spectators, who was standing near Buffalo Bill. “Ketchum can hit a silver dollar at ten paces, and no man could miss under these circumstances.”
The bully eyed the doomed lad with the grin of a demon, and then advanced toward him, step by step. It seemed an age before he reached the rope and held his pistol right against the breast of the young rancher.
“Now, then, you young fool, take back that lie you told about me, or I’ll shoot you on the spot!” he said loudly enough for all the men standing around to hear.
“Shoot!” replied Mainwaring sternly. “I said you cheated, and I say so still!”
The spectators held their breath, for it now seemed that nothing could save the brave young fellow.
But Ketchum looked around the circle before he pulled the trigger, and he caught the steely glance of the king of the scouts piercing him through and through.
That look said as plainly as any words could have done:
“Shoot him, and I will shoot you within five minutes! Spare him, and I will spare you.”