“Have they got rifles?”
“No got um rifles; got revolvers.”
“If there are seven of them, and they have each a brace of six-shooters, then they have fourteen revolvers to our two. Unless something unexpected happens, they’re going to give us a run for our money.”
Very cautiously Buffalo Bill looked over the top of the boulders and sized up the enemy’s position. Lawless and his men appeared to be scattered up and down the opposite side of the cañon, every one of them back of a boulder.
The firing was not so brisk as it had been, and it was quite probable that Lawless was himself taking stock of the situation before allowing matters to go any further. As a point to this conclusion of the scout’s, the head of Lawless, capped with its black sombrero showed above the top of a boulder almost directly opposite where the scout was standing.
Quick as lightning, Buffalo Bill let fly a bullet at the black hat. Lawless ducked down just in time to save himself; and, the next moment, Buffalo Bill himself was obliged to drop, for bullets began to fly thick and fast.
“Stop your shooting!”
It was the voice of Lawless, and went ringing down the cañon. Instantly the fusillade ceased.
“Buffalo Bill!” called Lawless.
“What do you want?” asked the scout, keeping under cover.