Carl Henson was a good second. The young man was on his mettle. Besides, he had the greatest interest at stake. For hours the fugitives were lost sight of, but in the middle afternoon they were seen to descend a hill ending in one of the rockiest sections of the Canadian Mountains. With his field glasses Buffalo Bill noticed that Holmes and the girl were walking their ponies, and that from time to time the villain, who was in the lead, turned and shook his fist at the girl. Arrived at the foot of the hill, no attempt to increase the speed of the ponies was made. “I tell you what, boys,” said the king of scouts, in pleasant excitement, “things are moving our way.” “What do you mean?” interrogated Henson eagerly. “Why, can’t you guess? We wouldn’t have come in sight of Holmes if the ponies had not been walked for a long distance. What has happened? Just this: Miss Wilton has caught on to the situation. She has refused to obey orders and ride hard. Holmes is mad clear through, but can do nothing. He has probably threatened to shoot her if she does not go with him, but he can’t induce her to bring her pony out of a walk.” Carl Henson was so greatly excited over what Buffalo Bill had said that he started along the trail with the speed of a race horse. If he kept on in his course, a few minutes would bring him into view from the rocky basin through which Holmes and Myra Wilton were riding. Buffalo Bill shouted: “Come back, or you will spoil all!” Henson heard, but he did not lessen his speed. The king of scouts started after him. The pursuit would have been fruitless if Henson, running with his head in the air and his mind on the girl he loved, had not stumbled over a large stone and pitched forward on his face. The king of scouts picked the young man up to hear him say: “Let me alone. I am a match for a dozen fellows like that one down there.” “If you don’t do as I say,” replied Buffalo Bill severely, “you may lose the girl and be balked of your revenge. Holmes is a man without scruple. Rather than see Myra Wilton restored to her friends, he will kill her even if his own life pays the forfeit. We must go slow. The game is ours if we work it right. Leave the direction of affairs to me.” “All right,” said Henson humbly. “I’ll not break loose again.” Soon after this conversation Holmes and his captive halted, and the ponies were hobbled. Buffalo Bill was waiting for the darkness. He might, with his force, descend immediately upon the villain, but he feared that once the rescuers were seen, Miss Wilton’s life would be in jeopardy. CHAPTER VIII. SAVED FROM DEATH. In a position from which all parts of the rocky basin could be seen, Buffalo Bill assembled his men and unfolded his program.