Then she saw that this man was not Panther Pete, though he so resembled him.
The man was Buffalo Bill, the noted scout; and he rode up to her, doffing his hat, and spoke kindly to her.
She was so breathless, and so puzzled and startled, that for a time she could not speak in answer to his queries.
He announced his identity.
“I have a pard back here, and some prisoners,” he said, “one of them being the notorious road agent, Panther Pete.”
“Panther Pete?” she gasped.
“We captured him but a little while ago,” he said. He looked at her earnestly and swung out of his saddle. “I think you need this horse a good deal more than I do,” he declared. “You had better ride now; you are quite worn out.”
She stood before him, trembling.
“You are not Panther Pete—cannot be!”
“I am William F. Cody,” he said, “better known as Buffalo Bill.”