“I’m willin’ to do anything a man can do,” said he. “I’m only human, parson, and it grinds me something terrible to see the Perrys treated as they have been. There are only four in Buffalo Bill’s party--six with you and me--and you know how many punchers Benner and Phelps can muster. That’s what makes the thing look hopeless.” “The race is not always to the swift, Nate, nor the battle to the strong.” “Well, parson, I always pin my faith on a horse that can go, and put my confidence in the outfit that has the biggest number.” “Which is wrong, Nate. Intellect counts most in this world. It’s the thinkers who take victory from mere numbers and brute force.” “And that’s over my head, parson. Not but that I believe in Buffalo Bill--only I want to be shown that things will come our way, and I want to be shown quick.” “We’ll begin showing you to-morrow,” said the scout. “How?” asked Dunbar. “In the early morning I will ride to Phelps’ ranch and talk with----” “Talking won’t do any good.” “This talking will,” was the calm response. “’Specially,” grinned the old trapper, “when Buffler backs up his palaverin’ in his customary way.” The sky pilot turned on the scout. “Do you really intend, Buffalo Bill,” he asked, “to visit Phelps’ ranch alone?” “Yes.” “Will it be safe for you to do so?” A flicker of smiles ran around the faces of the pards. “I think it will be safe, Brother Jordan,” answered the scout gravely. “It is not my habit to tangle up with a situation I don’t think I can handle.” “But, by now, Red Steve will have carried word to the cattle barons that you set Dunbar at liberty. Phelps and Benner will be down on you just as they are on Wild Bill and Nomad.” “Even at that,” laughed the scout, “I’ll warrant that they will not be unduly discourteous.” “Supposing,” interjected Dunbar, “that you don’t get to Phelps’ ranch until after Benner comes and takes Perry away?” “I think I shall get there before them; but, if not, then I will go to Benner’s.” “Take the rest of us with you!” begged the sky pilot. “I’ll take you with me,” said the scout, “but you must remain at a distance. A show of force, at this stage of the game, is out of the question. A little tact is what we need now more than anything else. If we all rode to Phelps’ place in a crowd there would be war immediately; but the barons won’t think they have much to fear if I go there alone.” “Which is ther same as sayin’,” guffawed Nomad, “thet Buffler’s plannin’ ter take ther cattle barons off’n their guard. He kin do it, too.” The scout got up. “Now that we have settled what we are to do,” said he, “we’d better all turn in and get a little sleep. Nick, you go to the corral and bunk down with Cayuse. The rest of us will find quarters in the house.”