“Who commands here?”
The voice was clear and stern, and came from a point close at hand. Then a tall form arose from behind a group of rocks.
“Massa Buf’ler Bill!”
The cry came almost in a shout, and every man left his position and rushed to where the scout stood, for he it was, in truth, who had invaded the retreat of the corralled negro soldiers.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RIDE FOR HELP.
The darkness hid the tears of joy in the eyes of the colored troopers, at the coming of Buffalo Bill.
The scout had crept into the corral unseen, and he said sternly: