As Red Dick spoke, he gave a loud war whoop, and leveled his pistol at Ricardo, who, as quick as lightning, had his own weapon covering the head of the renegade.
Thus, threateningly, the two men stood at bay, while around them gathered their separate bands.
What might have been the result of this impromptu duel between the two chiefs, it would be hard to say, but just at that moment there was a terrific discharge of firearms, fired in regular order, a loud cheering and a rushing of hoofs.
Before the surprised Indians and bandits could offer any resistance, a squadron of cavalry charged through their line, firing as they rode; and, dashing swiftly toward the camp, the next moment they were safe within the fortification, while cheer after cheer rang out from the rejoicing emigrants.
“Cusses on it, chief! While we’s quarreling here like two tomcats on a fence, that cussed Captain la Clyde and his troopers has gotten through our line and reënforced the emigrants.”
Red Dick growled the words savagely, at the same time lowering his pistol.
“That is true, Red Dick; and, after all, we had better unite our forces and wage a common war upon the train,” responded Ricardo.
It was too dark for his foe to see the evil look of mischief that flashed in his eyes.
“I’m agreed, boss, kase, you see, it’s no use talking about us rooting out that nest of hornets unless we jine forces,” Red Dick answered.