The other horsemen shifted their positions so that this manœuvre could be accomplished.
“You, Jordan,” went on the scout, “ride up behind Miss Perry and Dunbar. Get as close to them as you can.”
Every one in that party was a trained horseman. The reins were handled in masterly fashion, and the racing steeds weaved slowly into positions as ordered by the king of scouts.
“The rest of you,” thundered Buffalo Bill, “spread out so that Lige Benner and Hank Phelps can see what Miss Perry, Dunbar and the parson are doing.”
No one, as yet, had any idea what Buffalo Bill had at the back of his head.
“What’s ther game, Buffler?” demanded Nomad, swerving Hiderack toward the side.
“The ombrays behind are getting ready to use their guns!” warned Wild Bill.
“Never mind their guns—yet,” answered the scout.
“What am I to do?” called the sky pilot.
The scout, pointing to Dunbar and Hattie with his quirt as Bear Paw slashed along, yelled at the top of his voice: