“Sit down,” said the scout sternly. “Get the whip-hand of yourself, McGowan, and, if it will be any comfort to you, just remember that Buffalo Bill and his pards will stand by you, and see you safely out of the trouble.”
“You will?” cried McGowan, with an air of intense relief. “I could ask for nothing more than that, Buffalo Bill. I am calm enough now to stand anything. Go on with the message.”
Buffalo Bill read it slowly. McGowan, with set face and nervously clenching hands, missed not a word.
So far from being cast down, he threw back his shoulders as though suddenly relieved from a burden.
“Now,” he observed, “we have something tangible to go on, some object at which to point our efforts. Hazy forebodings are unsettling; it is only when we know the truth, no matter how grievous it is, that we are able to lay out our work and get busy. With you to help me, Buffalo Bill, I know that Annie will be rescued from the hands of those two infamous villains, Bascomb and Bernritter. Already I am beginning to breathe more freely. But—what are we to do?”
“That is something to be thought about and carefully planned.”
“I could make out a written notice that no steps would be taken against Bascomb and Bernritter, and could leave it, with a five-pound bar of bullion, at the mouth of the old shaft——”
“Personally,” cut in the scout, “I prefer to fight the devil with fire. Bascomb and Bernritter deserve a penitentiary sentence, and I would not allow their plot to succeed.”
“But if any harm should come to Annie——”
“Of course, that is what most concerns you. It is your affair, so do not let my own sentiments stand in the way of your doing what you think best.”