“Troopers, come on! Men, they are but a handful of murdering thieves; follow me, and drive them back!” In vain were his gallant example and clear commands. In vain sounded the orders of Major Conrad, who, in a frenzy, strove to stay the torrent of defeat. In vain was the conspicuous courage of Howard Lawrence. Useless, too, was the discipline and bravery of the troopers; all was useless, for from some unaccountable reason a panic had seized upon the settlers, brave men though they were, and fighting for all they held dear on earth. They gave ground rapidly, until twoscore of the outlaws had secured a footing within the inclosure, and by the light of the waning moon, which made all around visible, Ricardo was forming his men for a desperate and final charge. Then his clear voice was again heard, giving his stern orders. Before they could be obeyed, there was heard a wild and prolonged war whoop that made the blood of all who heard it turn cold with dread. Then upon the moonlit scene dashed a single horseman, bounding over the barrier and whirling suddenly into the very midst of the band of outlaws. “Buffalo Bill!” was shouted. “The scout, and alone!” Such were the cries that were heard, as with lightning rapidity the daring horseman, with a revolver in each hand, made his shots ring forth with telling effect. “No, he isn’t alone!” cried a voice. A rolling sound, like muffled thunder, was heard upon the prairie. Again the wild war whoop of the scout broke forth and was answered from twoscore of throats by three hearty cheers. “The troopers, the troopers!” shouted the outlaws, and hastily they turned to fly, Ricardo, with a bitter curse, first spurring toward Buffalo Bill, who wheeled to meet him. But, as if thinking better of his intention, the outlaw suddenly checked his pace, and heading his splendid horse for the barrier, took it with a flying leap, and disappeared in pursuit of his men. Instantly Buffalo Bill followed him, and the two were soon lost to sight upon the prairie in the opposite direction to that from which the cavalry squadron was approaching. A moment more and the cavalrymen dashed up, headed by Major Belden, one of the senior officers of the fort. “Major. I greet you; but though too late to join in the fun, you have scared off the enemy!” Percy la Clyde stepped forward and addressed Ernest Belden, a soldierly looking man of forty, with a handsome, but dark, sinister face. “Who were your foes, La Clyde?” asked the officer. “We have had two sets, major; first the Dog Soldier Sioux, under that desperado, Red Dick, and then none other than Ricardo and his desperate band.” “A hard lot, indeed, and you have been most fortunate to escape them, and I am glad to see that the scout told me no more than the truth; but where has he gone?” The major turned to look for Buffalo Bill. “Gone like mad after the outlaw chief; but will we not give pursuit, major?”