While the scout and the outlaws stared at the wolfish crew, taking note at the same time that each member was armed with rifle and tomahawk, the leader cried out in good English: “Surrender or we fire.”
The king of scouts looked down at Flag-pole Jack and Shorty Sands. The outlaws now saw him for the first time, for, upon turning to gaze up at the fantastic crew, he had withdrawn his head from in front of the bowlder.
“Buffalo Bill!” gasped Shorty Sands. “We’re in for it now.” As he spoke, he believed that the disguised Indians were allies of the famous border fighter.
“Don’t make a mistake, Shorty,” said the scout coolly. “We are in the same boat.” Then he added: “Go up, you two, and do the surrender act. I’ll follow suit.”
“I’ll be hanged if I give in,” snarled Flag-pole Jack. “Hyer goes.” He jumped down the bank, but a rifle bullet grazed his head before his feet struck the ground. “That’s a reminder,” yelled the leader of the Wolves sternly. “The next shot will be to kill.”
The outlaw, with many curses, returned to the trail.
As he was on the way, the Wolves marched down the hill.
Buffalo Bill was not foolhardy enough to try to make a stand against two dozen armed enemies. He stood up, rifle grounded, and smiled when the leader of the Wolves approached.
“Fine morning for ducks,” the scout remarked, as he tried to read the expression of the eyes that looked out of the holes in the mask.
“And for lulus. You’re one, Cody, all right.”