“Too bad, indeed, Dick.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. But you might cut my other ropes. I’d like to get off this blamed old ramshackle thing before she starts again. Those horses are still nervous.”
“Right you are, Bill!” cried the lieutenant, and while his men hurriedly made their way down the hill leading their mounts—and passing wondering remarks at the trail left on the hillside by the lieutenant’s horse—Danforth finished cutting Cody free.
While Cody related his adventure with the coach, the lieutenant’s men dragged out the dead horses and reharnessed the others. The dead soldiers and driver brought forth angry ejaculations from the troopers. Danforth and his men were out on scouting duty, and when the lieutenant heard of the hidden treasure-chest, he undertook the duty of getting it and bearing it and the stage-coach on to Fort Advance.
“You don’t need all your men for that, Dick,” the scout said. “Half your escort can take the coach and the treasure in. I’ve a long score to even up with Boyd Bennett, and I’m going to hit his trail right now. I have my horse and my weapons, and with you and a file of your men we ought to be able to handle the scoundrels if we have the luck to overtake them.”
“I’m agreeable, Cody,” declared the reckless lieutenant. “You haven’t any scruples about my shooting these road-agents if we come up with them?”
“What do you mean, lieutenant?” asked Cody curiously. “What’s the burn?”
“Why, you seemed to object to my potting that Injun gal, White Antelope.”
The scout’s face clouded, and he shook his head.