Buffalo Bill stepped forward toward the one nearest him, unbuckled his belt, thus disarming him of his knife and revolvers, and then drew the strap of his rifle over his head.
“Now, your turn, sir!”
The man did not move.
“Step here, quick, or I’ll reach you with a bullet!”
The scout saw that the men had discovered that they were two to one, and were plotting resistance. But the hint of reaching for him with a bullet brought the man quickly to within the length of the scout’s arm. He, too, was disarmed of his belt and weapons and his rifle.
“Now, I wish to tie you, and if I see the first show of funny business, you will hand in your chips.”
The men made no resistance, but they were glancing toward each other furtively, and certainly were plotting to escape.
“Lie flat on your faces, both of you, and put your hands behind your backs!” came the order.
“I’ll tie ’em, Massa Buf’ler Bill.”
The words fairly startled the scout, with all his iron nerve. It was as though a dead man was speaking to him.