“It ain’t Giles at all!” whooped Bascomb; “but it’s some other meddlin’ whelp——”
“Rush after the fellow!” interrupted the frantic voice of Bernritter. “All is up with us if he gets away! Stop him! The girl! We must not let him get away with the girl!”
By that time the scout had reached the kegs and the boxes. Dropping the girl down behind them, he crouched at her side and gave vent to a mocking laugh.
“You fellows are close to the end of your rope!” he shouted. “It’s Buffalo Bill that’s calling your game!”
The scout’s last word faded into the echo of a shot from one of his forty-fours.
Bascomb and Bernritter had piled full-tilt out upon the island end of the causeway, but the scout’s bullet, fanning the air close to their heads, sent them back pell-mell into the shadow of the rocks.
“Buffalo Bill!” cried a voice from the direction of the valley.
“Here we are, Dell!” answered the scout. “If you come this way, be careful. Bascomb and Bernritter are watching from the island, and are ready to use their guns.”
Dell Dauntless, creeping warily along the shore to the pile of kegs and boxes at the edge of the bubbling sands, came abruptly face to face with her friend, Annie McGowan.
“Dell!” screamed the rescued girl tearfully.