It was difficult for those who were looking on to see exactly what had happened. The scout did something, there was a crash of broken glass, and the barkeeper wilted down behind the rough boards. The bottle had vanished from the scout’s elbow.
“You say you are eight against me,” said Buffalo Bill as calmly as though nothing had happened, “but what are eight criminals against the authority of the United States government? Lawless, you are my prisoner!”
This calm statement was astounding, not only to Lawless himself, but to the others in the room as well. The quietly effective way in which Buffalo Bill had back-capped the barkeeper had made a profound impression upon the rascals whom Lawless was trying to interest in his criminal operations. Now to have the scout call Lawless his prisoner hinted of more power than he visibly possessed. How could one man stand up against eight and appear so confident?
Anxious eyes wandered to the door, but no force was in evidence in that direction.
“He’s bluffing!” cried Lawless. “He knows that all we’ve got to do in order to nail him is to make a surround, and his only hope is to make us think he’s got friends outside.”
Lawless realized that he could not dally with the situation any longer. If he would save himself, and get the better of Buffalo Bill, he must act now, or never.
“Say, you fellows!” Lawless cried to the ruffians, “are you going to stand there like a lot of dummies, and let one man come into this camp and run it? Are you going to let Buffalo Bill knock down the barkeeper of this joint, and never lift a hand to interfere? Buffalo Bill! Pah! He’s no more of a man than any of the rest of you. He’s the government’s hired man, that’s all——”
Lawless’ remarks glided into the crack of a revolver and the snarl of a bullet. Under cover of his talk, the outlaw had fired from his hip; but his haste, and the unusual position of the weapon, had militated against the accuracy of his aim.
The scout’s hat-brim was seen to twitch, but the scout still stood leaning back against the bar, as calm and unruffled as before.
“Your hand isn’t as steady as it ought to be, Lawless,” remarked the scout. “I repeat, you are my prisoner. I want to take you out of Chavorta Gorge alive, but, if you make another attempt on me with that revolver, you’ll leave the gorge feet first.”