Buffalo Bill turned now and ran after them at his best gait, and soon overtook them.
“Run as you never ran before!” he commanded.
Taking each by the hand, he seemed to fairly lift them forward, as he sped in wild flight toward the point where he had left his horse.
Behind them rose a terrible din in the outlaw camp, and a little later a red light shot up toward the sky, showing that the cabin they had so lately left was in flames.
“They will be after us on horses in a minute or two,” said the scout, urging the fugitives on.
Near the point where the little side cañon opened which held the bound and gagged sentinel, Buffalo Bill halted for a moment, just long enough to lift Rose Carter in his strong arms, then he tore on again, leading the way, with Carter racing heavily behind him.
Fortunately, the camp was in such wild confusion that the scout and the fugitives were able to reach the spot where Midnight had been left before they were sighted by any of their pursuers.
“Down, now!” the scout whispered.
Behind them he heard the thunder of hoofs. And as the three—the scout and the fugitives—stooped to the ground, down the gulch came the horsemen riding now out into the increasing moonlight.
A dozen men on horseback swept by, riding like the wind and heading for the open prairie, to which point they naturally believed the fugitives had hurried. The scout chuckled audibly as the last horseman thundered by.