Banks stepped up to within arm’s length of the scout. With his left hand the scout disarmed Banks, then whirled on Hendricks.
Dell Dauntless had descended the hill-slope and was standing within a dozen feet of Hendricks, her revolver leveled, and a look of determination in her blue eyes.
“It’s all over but payin’ the bets, ain’t it?” grinned Hendricks sourly.
“When a man dances he has to pay the fiddler,” said Buffalo Bill. “You and Banks will pay with a few years in the ‘pen.’ Take his guns, Dell,” he added to the girl.
Dell stepped forward and picked the revolver out of Hendricks’ belt, and took its mate off the ground.
“That was a blame’ purty shot,” remarked Hendricks, referring to the one that had knocked the revolver out of his hand, “’specially when ye think as how it was a woman done it.”
“I could have taken your finger along with the revolver, if I had wanted to,” said Dell.
“’Bliged ter ye fer not doin’ it. I needs the finger.”
Hendricks’ horse stood a few yards around the base of the rock.
“Take both mounts, Dell,” said the scout, “and bring them along after Banks and Hendricks. Fall in, you fellows,” he added to the prisoners, “shoulder to shoulder, ahead of me.”