“It wasn’t me did it, Buffalo Bill,” responded Ned, who had now driven up to the spot.
“Not you?”
“Nary.”
“Who then?”
“This young leddy, and she knows how ter use a gun, says I.”
“I did not wish to kill him, so broke his right arm. Then, as he drew a revolver with his left, I sent a bullet through that, and my third shot was to bring down his horse to prevent his escape.”
“Well, miss, you are a crack shot, and the fellow, is the last one of Silk Lasso Sam’s band, so that now there will be a clear trail to travel, I guess. I will have you take him on with you, Horseshoe Ned, and bring him back to the fort with you on your next run.”
“I’ll die if I am not cared for,” groaned the man.
“Well, if I was in your place, pard, I’d want to die, as yer’ll hang as sart’in as I knows yer name,” put in Horseshoe Ned.
“I did no harm,” whined the man.