Mightily relieved, the scout whirled away from the open door. As he did so, there was a crash that shook the cabin floor. The two barons, in their struggles to free their feet of the encircling noose, had toppled over and fallen. Secured to each other as they were, they were in a sorry plight. Buffalo Bill hurried to them and adjusted their arms so that they would be more comfortable. “Stop your struggling,” said he, “and you’ll be a whole lot better off.” “What do you mean by making an attack on me, right on my own ground?” asked Phelps. “That’s where we begin to talk business, Phelps,” said the scout. “The prisoner you have in this room is Dick Perry?” “Yes, that’s my name,” spoke up the prisoner. In some manner Perry had freed himself of his gag and was able to talk. Keeping a wary eye on the barons, Buffalo Bill backed over to Perry and pulled the stick from under his knees. Perry at once arose to his feet and slipped his hands out of the coils at his wrists. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for this,” said he; “a debt that I----” “Never mind that now, Perry,” interrupted the scout. “We’re not out of the woods yet by a long shot. Is your daughter here, at Phelps’ ranch?” A wild look crossed Perry’s face. “My daughter?” he returned. “Good heavens! You don’t mean to say that she--that these scoundrels have----” “You’re in the dark, I see, Perry,” cut in the scout, “so the chances are that your daughter isn’t here. She was taken away from the ranch some time last night.” Perry grabbed up a chair and started toward the two men on the floor. The scout caught him by the shoulders. “Careful!” he warned. “A move like that won’t help us any. Don’t lose heart--we’ll find the girl.” The scout went back to the cattle barons. “Watch the lay of the land outside, Perry,” said the scout. “If you see any one coming this way, let me know at once.” Perry put down the chair and cautiously took up a position by the open door. “You’ve got the bulge on us, Buffalo Bill,” said Benner. “Take these confounded manacles off our hands.” “They belong to you,” returned the scout, “and I reckon I’ll let you keep them. Those are the handcuffs that the clerk of the hotel said he had put in your saddlebags. The clerk put them in the wrong saddlebags, that’s all. Why did you want two pairs?” “That’s our business,” snapped Phelps. “You’re playing a mighty reckless game, Buffalo Bill, and you’ve about one chance in a thousand to win out. You may be able to get away from this ranch, but the Brazos country isn’t big enough to hide you from the men Benner and I will put on your trail.” “I’ll take care of that part of it. You fellows would have more success in your deviltry if you’d quit passing notes back and forth and hiding them in your watch cases.” Both barons swore. “Confound it, Phelps,” gurgled Benner, “that was your fault.”