“What d’ye want, Buffler Bill?”
“There’s a man down there somewhere: see if you can find him.”
“Did ye hev a fracas with the feller?”
“Yes, and he went over the bank. It’s Tex, one of Lawless’ men. I want to capture him alive, if I can.”
“I heerd a scramble over hyer,” went on Tenny, floundering about on the slope, “an’ reckoned ye might be needin’ me, so I started acrost without waitin’ fer ye ter whistle. I didn’t know but thet—— Woof!” Tenny broke off his remarks abruptly. “Hyer he is, Buffler—I stumbled right over him. He’s wrapped around a big stone, an’ as limp as a rag. Reckon he busted his neck—an’ good enough fer him, if he did.”
Lowering himself carefully downward, the scout presently reached the place where Tex had been halted in his rough descent of the slope.
“He’s all right,” said the scout, after a moment’s examination. “Stunned, that’s all. We’ll get a rope on him before he comes to his senses.”
“I’ll hev ter go acrost the valley ter my hoss ter git a rope,” said Tenny.
“Tex’s horse is just over the brink of the wall. Bring the animal. The chances are you’ll find a riata coiled at the saddle-horn, and there’ll be a heap of satisfaction in tying Tex with his own rope.”
“Thar’d be more satisfaction in hangin’ him with it,” growled Tenny, as he scrambled to the top of the wall and disappeared.