“But the country is full of the fleeing Indians,” the colonel objected, “and there is not one chance in ten thousand of your getting through. It is sheer madness to attempt to ride under these new conditions.”
The border king laughed lightly, and said:
“We are still waiting for that dispatch, colonel.”
The officer looked at him steadily for a moment, and saw that argument would be useless. Nothing would turn the gallant and famous scout from his heroic purpose. Nor was Wild Bill one whit less resolute.
Without another word, the colonel took the dispatch from his pocket and handed it to Buffalo Bill. Then he shook the two scouts by the hand, and a minute later they were galloping away in the direction of Fort Hays.
CHAPTER V.
WHARTON IN PERIL.
Buffalo Bill and his partner rode along swiftly and silently for about half an hour, and saw no traces of the redskins. Then, as they slackened their pace for a moment to breathe the horses, Wild Bill said:
“Gosh all hemlocks, Buffler——”