“Let them go,” he said, “they will find it a wild-goose chase.”
Other horsemen were heard, and they also thundered by. Back in the little valley the flames of the burning cabin mounted higher and higher until the sky was brilliantly lighted.
For an hour Buffalo Bill and his friends lay in hiding, with Midnight; and in that time the scout learned all that the prisoners had to tell of their capture, the burning of their home, the murderous deeds and the subsequent cruelty of the outlaws.
It was a harrowing story.
“Such debts can only be paid when those devils are wiped off the face of the earth.”
“Hark!” said Rose. “Some one is coming, I believe.”
“Yes; one of those outlaws is coming back,” said the scout. “I heard the hoofs of his horse some time ago.”
He took his lariat as he said it, and stationed himself out by the side of the trail along which the outlaw rider would have to pass.
A little later he came into view, riding slowly. He was swearing volubly. The trail of the fugitives had not been struck, and because of that and of the things which had preceded he was in an ugly temper.
His words and oaths were cut short when the lasso of the scout shot out from the side of the trail, and, settling about his neck, jerked him heavily to the ground.