“Take the horses’ heads, one of you!” yelled Lawless. “No more shooting; we’ve got this little game right where we want it. The woman has fainted. Two of you take her and carry her to the horses—one of you is enough to keep track of this bunch.”
While two of the scoundrels, swinging their rifles over their shoulders, advanced and lifted the woman from the place where Hotchkiss had put her, another went to the heads of the plunging leaders.
The minute the man had the leaders well in hand, Lawless bent down, collected the scattered bills, and stuffed them into his pocket.
The woman, limp and unconscious, was carried out of sight.
Lawless, grabbing Billings by the collar and jerking him upright, stared venomously into his eyes.
“See what’s happened!” growled Lawless, “and you have only yourselves to blame. Here’s something else for you to tell Buffalo Bill—and it’s something more to make him take my trail and try for a clean-up. That’s what I want. I’m ready for the king of scouts, and we’ll see how he comes out. Meanwhile, here’s something for you to deliver to Gentleman Jim, in Sun Dance—a locket, a ring, and a note. He’ll understand. Tell him that Lawless never forgets his debts.”
By then, the two men who had carried away the woman reappeared. They picked up the fallen desperado and likewise bore him out of sight among the boulders.
Leaping down from the wagon, Lawless walked quickly to the man who had been wounded by Hotchkiss. The fellow was sitting up at the trailside. Lawless helped him to his feet and supported him toward the rocks.
“That will do,” he called to the man with the gun and to the man who was holding the horses. “Now for a quick getaway.”
By then, Chick Billings was able to take the lines. When the horses were released, he held them where they were, and watched the robbers vanish.