Gentleman Jim was interrupted by an abrupt crang, and a puff of white smoke arising from a thicket of scrub off toward the edge of the “flat.” Astonishment filled all beholders. While the echoes of the rifle-shot were dancing musically up and down the gulch, the steer was seen to leap into the air and to come down in a heap at the very brink of the high bank.
A second later a lithe form sprang out from among the bushes and started hastily for the fallen animal. It was the form of a girl in a natty brown sombrero, buckskin blouse, and short skirt, and tan shoes and leggings. In her right hand, as she hurried, she swung a rifle.
“Dell Dauntless!” shouted Gentleman Jim; “Buffalo Bill’s girl pard has turned the trick. Bravo! A neater shot was never fired in Sun Dance Cañon!”
And “bravo! bravo!” jubilated the others as they followed Gentleman Jim toward the steer and the stranger—a stranger who might be in luck, and who might not, according as to whether he had come through that Mazeppalike ride alive or dead.
When Gentleman Jim and the others came close to the steer, Dell Dauntless had already cut away the ropes, freed the stranger, and dragged him to one side. The girl’s shot had sped true, and the steer lay dead, with a bullet through its heart.
“Miss Dauntless,” said Gentleman Jim, removing his sombrero, “I take off my hat to you. Your rifle got in its work in the very nick of time. Half a minute more, and the steer would have been over the bank. You’re a wonderful hand with a rifle.”
“Well,” smiled the girl, with a deprecating shake of the head, “that steer was a good-sized target, and what excuse could I have made if I had missed?”
“The steer was on the run, Miss Dauntless,” said Gentleman Jim, “and you had to put a bit of lead into a vital place.”
“I happened to be in a favorable position,” said Dell. “Any one of you, who happened to be placed as I was, and with a rifle in your hands, could have done the same thing. While waiting for Buffalo Bill and the rest of my pards to come back from down the gulch, I was taking a stroll to the edge of the ‘flat’ to see if they were in sight. I heard the yells from the camp, saw the steer coming, and went down on one knee and bided my time. That was all,” she finished, turning away. “Instead of talking, we’d better be giving our attention to the stranger.”
“Correct,” returned Gentleman Jim, stepping to the stranger’s side and sinking to his knees.