He looked at the bullet-hole through the brim of his hat, then at his left boot, from which the heel was missing, and finally at the place where a bullet had raked along the side of his clothes, after which he laughed grimly.
“They had a good many chances at me, Crawling Bear,” he proceeded, “but they didn’t make good. We’ve got ’em bottled up in that mine now, and we’ll keep ’em there until I can get Pard Cody to Sun Dance. I’ve got a notion he’ll enjoy meeting that gang of trouble-makers.”
The Ponca picked up his blanket from the platform and threw it over his shoulders.
“Yellow Eyes?” he queried.
“You bet! They’re white tinhorns, every last man of them. It’s up to you and me to call their little game. It’s a salting proposition, with a tenderfoot standing to lose a hundred thousand in good, hard money. Let’s ride for Sun Dance and get there as quick as we can.”
“What about um five caballos?” asked the Ponca, his small, beady eyes gloating over the five horses belonging to Clancy and his outfit.
“Oh, we’ll leave them. Haven’t time to bother with ’em, anyhow.”
Wild Bill descended the slope lamely and climbed into his saddle. A few moments later, he and the Ponca were continuing on along the cañon toward Sun Dance.
CHAPTER II.
ANOTHER STRANGER IN CAMP.
Sun Dance was a very small mining-camp, perched on a shelf up the side of Sun Dance Cañon. “Six ’dobies stuck on a side hill,” was the trite and not very elegant way the camp was often described.