At the cry, the outlaws and scouts alike had faced about.
In a declivity, whose existence had been hidden by grass, lay Jennings, midway between where Red Rogers had been sitting and the edge of the plateau!
As he realized the miracle of the scout's escape, the outlaw blanched.
"Get me some whiskey, Rosie," he stammered.
But the girl did not move.
"Tell me first what you're going to do," she retorted.
"What? You dare disobey me?" thundered the desperado, glad to have some one upon whom to vent his rage and disappointment. "I'll show you——"
Yet, as he wheeled, his threat died upon his lips.
With steady hand and determined face, the girl was standing in front of the cave, her six shooters levelled at the outlaw's head.
"Now, don't get excited, Red," she exclaimed, quietly. "I'm running this show for a few minutes. That scout's escape is a warning. His life wasn't saved for nothing. If you do anything to him now, bad luck will follow you.