The two men on the island gave up their attempt on the shaking bridge. Retreating to the protecting shadow of the boulders, they began boring holes in the night with their bullets, seeking to injure those behind the barricade of kegs and boxes.
Their efforts in this direction were vain. Slugs plumped into the barricade, but failed to reach those behind it.
“It’s a case of the trappers trapped,” exulted the scout. “That trail of boards is the only way for Bascomb and Bernritter to come from the island, and one man can lie here, back of this barricade, and keep them where they are. We’ll have them, and it’s only a matter of a short time, at that. These kegs contain water, and the boxes hold provisions; they are all the supplies Bascomb and Bernritter have—and they are in our hands! Did you ever hear of a situation to beat it, Dell?”
“Never!” laughed the girl. “You have turned the tables on the scoundrels with a vengeance. But how did you ever do it, Buffalo Bill? Tell me!”
The scout told her, talking to the girls but keeping his eyes on the causeway.
Dell clapped her hands in applause of the scout’s daring and successful efforts.
“No wonder they call you king of scouts, Buffalo Bill!” she exclaimed admiringly. “Not one man in a thousand could have done what you have.”
“Bosh!” deprecated the scout. “Were these water-kegs and boxes of provisions brought here in the buckboard, Miss McGowan?” he inquired of the rescued girl.
“Yes. The man who drove the buckboard took them aboard at Phœnix.”