No second urging was needed. Every one followed Dunbar down the slope, cinches were swiftly tightened, and the whole party mounted and rode away to the help of the baron and the girl.
CHAPTER IX.
DUTCH COURAGE.
It has been said early in this chronicle, that Chance made a triple blunder. In one corner of the triangle was Buffalo Bill, dropping through the roof of Red Steve’s dugout and effecting the release of Nate Dunbar; in another corner was Wild Bill, watching a queer contest of watch throwing and finding a scrap of paper which ultimately led to the relief of Dick Perry; and in the third corner was Villum von Schnitzenhauser, lured from the rest of his pards by the prospect of a talkfest with Fritz Dinkelmann.
The baron had heard of Fritz Dinkelmann at the house of a small rancher where he, and Wild Bill, and old Nomad, and Little Cayuse had halted for an hour on their journey toward Hackamore. The rancher had mentioned Dinkelmann in an off-hand way, and the baron had pressed inquiries.
Dinkelmann had been on the Brazos for ten years. Everybody in that section knew him, and knew how he had borrowed and borrowed from Lige Benner, until Benner had secured every head of the Dutchman’s stock and a mortgage on his land and the cabin roof that sheltered himself and his wife. Dinkelmann had been in the German army, and carried honorable wounds—mementos of the Franco-Prussian War.
This mention of Dinkelmann’s army experience was what stirred the baron most deeply; for the baron himself had served his time in the kaiser’s ranks, and had won the Order of the Black Eagle for bravery on the field.
Yes, certainly, the baron would have to see Dinkelmann and engage in a talkfest. It would be some time before Buffalo Bill could reach Hackamore from Texico, and the baron could pass the night at Dinkelmann’s and get to Hackamore before the scout reached the town.
It was nine o’clock in the evening when the baron, having lost and found himself at least a dozen times, first sighted the glow of light in Dinkelmann’s cabin, rode up to the door and leaned down from his saddle to knock.
A buxom lady answered his summons, starting back in trepidation when she found the baron’s mule bulked across the entrance.
“Iss Misder Dinkelmann in der house, yes?” inquired the baron.