“I don’t know, baron, but—but it is a blessing for us. And there’s the sky pilot,” went on the girl, still feasting her eyes on the approaching horsemen.
“Dot gifs us enough men to make a pooty fighdt, aber dose odder fellers haf seferal times as many as vat ve got.”
The scout, and those from the coulee, were not long in coming to the side of the baron and the girl. There were many things the baron and the girl wanted to know from the scout and those with him, and many things Buffalo Bill and his companions were eager to hear from the Dutchman and Hattie, but the course of events offered no opportunity for talk.
“They’re gaining on us, pard!” shouted Wild Bill.
“I reckon nothin’ kin stave off a fight now,” yelled old Nomad.
“No bloodshed, I beg of you!” implored the sky pilot. “Let me try my hand as peacemaker, friends! My profession earns me that right.”
Suddenly an idea flashed through the scout’s mind. Forcing his horse alongside the sky pilot’s roan, he leaned from the saddle to shout:
“You can act as peacemaker, parson, but it must be in my way!”
“Any way, Buffalo Bill,” cried the sky pilot, “just so it really brings peace without the spilling of blood.”
“Dunbar,” roared the scout, “ride alongside Miss Perry.”