Garland, thoroughly frightened now, had started the pony, in the hope of escaping, even though tied.
“Stop!”
Wild Bill drew down on him.
“I can’t stop,” Garland yelled; “the pony is running away with me!”
“Oh, you can’t, eh?”
Wild Bill yelled to the pony, commanding it to stop, and saw Garland dig his tied heels into the pony’s side to make it go on. His revolver cracked, and the pony pitched over with a bullet in its head.
In its fall it pinned Garland’s leg under it, and held him fast; so that, with the cords on him, he was in a helpless position.
“Stay there a while,” said Wild Bill grimly, as he turned back to aid Buffalo Bill in securing the robber chief.
As they tied Panther Pete they marveled at his cleverness, for they saw that his resemblance to Buffalo Bill was largely due to the clothing he had on, to the manner in which he wore his hair and beard, together with the fact that he was a large and tall man.
Out of his eyes now looked terror; for he knew who these men were, and he feared them with a deathly fear.