“He’s some shot!” exclaimed Dude, after the third repetition of this feat.
“Have to be,” grunted the aged scout, immediately lapsing into a silence from which no amount of questioning could rouse him.
To the avengers, it seemed that never did a day have so many hours nor the sun seem so loath to set. But at last twilight came—and with it welcomed activity to the manhunters.
“Me take Ki Yi, Deadshot and Pinky,” announced Nig. “You left, all spread out. When we get to catacombs, we give shot, then you set fire to grass and watch so Louie no ’scape. We get Injun to-night—or never!”
But the task was destined to prove no easy one!
The face of the cliff into which the tomb cells had been cut was about three hundred feet long.
After stationing the five men who were again to try to prevent the fiend’s getting away in positions some sixty feet apart and instructing them to lie flat on their bellies in front of the fires they were to set, in order that Scalping Louie might not shoot them down, the aged scout, his eyes glistening with anticipated joy at the doom of his enemy, led the three cowboys forward.
Bang! went Deadshot’s gun as they reached its base.
Instantly, the fires flared from the plains in answer.
“You um take hold this rope,” ordered Nig, rapidly passing out an end of his lariat which he had brought with him. “Ready? Now.”