“Oh,” exclaimed Nate Dunbar, pushing back from the table, “I was forgetting something.”
His hand went into an inside pocket and he brought out a little, plush-covered box.
“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.”
A cry of delight broke from the girl when she saw the diamond.
“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.”
“Amen to that,” added Dick Perry.
CHAPTER XXIII.
RED THUNDERBOLT.
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.
The pards were riding quietly along the trail when Nomad suddenly drew rein.
“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!”