“Marry them!”
For an instant a dead silence fell over the group of racing fugitives; then, as the wonderful timeliness of the scout’s plan grew clear in the minds of the rest of the party, a cheer broke from the pards.
“Well thought of!” cried the sky pilot.
The book he had used, on the afternoon of the preceding day in Hackamore, came from his pocket; then, with the horses at break-neck pace, and Benner and Phelps close enough to see and understand what was going on, the sky pilot united Nate Dunbar and Hattie Perry in the holy bonds of wedlock.
There have been weddings in balloons, in the Mammoth Cave, on mountain heights and in the depths of mines, but where and when had a young couple ever joined hands for a journey through life as Nate and Hattie joined hands now?
With the final words, “I pronounce you man and wife,” Buffalo Bill ordered a halt.
“A hollow square, pards,” he cried, “with Mrs. Dunbar in the centre! We will face these cattle barons now and see if Lige Benner will listen to reason.”
Swiftly the horses were reined to a panting halt, and as swiftly the scout and his pards, Dunbar, Perry and Jordan took their places in a circle—all facing outward, the girl in the centre and each man with his weapons in hand—each man with the exception of the sky pilot.
Thus they waited for Benner and Phelps and their cowboys to reach them.
The approaching horsemen came furiously. There were fully twoscore. With skilled hands they manœuvred their horses into a “surround,” and the little circle formed by the scout and his friends formed a living and determined barrier between Hattie Dunbar and the barons.