At the words and the ring of the voice, the men who believed themselves in the power of the pals of Scalping Louie started violently.
“Well, if it isn’t Deadshot and the others!” exclaimed Dude, in disgust.
At this identification, the trio dropped their shooting irons into their holsters and, walking to the fire, squatted down without waiting to be asked.
“What on earth did you throw such a scare into us for?” demanded Hawks, his ire rising, when he saw that all danger was passed, to think he and his companions had been so easily tricked.
“To let Nig show you just how big a bunch of dubs you are!” retorted the member of the Double Cross outfit. “We are sore because you let Scalping Louie get away and so we thought we’d get even with you by proving to you that any one could come right up to where you were and capture you, without you so much as knowing there was anybody round.”
“It’s sure one on us—and a bad one,” admitted Bowser.
“But how did you know Louie had got away?” demanded Dude.
“Nig doped that out when he heard you firing so much,” rejoined Ki Yi. “In addition to being the greatest thing in the line of a scout I ever came across, he can get the lay of any situation straighter than any one I know.”
“Then, if he’s so all-fired clever, let him get out and trail the cuss!” snapped Grouch.
“He will, never fear, as soon as we’ve had some grub. We’re a bit hungry, seeing that our ponies with all our chuck were stampeded by the cattle when we set the fire in the swamp.”