This dark object struck the burly ruffian fairly on the shoulders and knocked him to the ground. The dark object that had descended so suddenly from the rock, and lighted upon the back of Bad Burke, was a man--one who did not lose his equilibrium by his jump, but caught on his feet, and stood ready, with drawn knife and pistol, to face the outlaw lieutenant. When released from the grasp of the ruffian, Pearl sprang backward, and again seized her rifle, which she turned upon the outlaw lieutenant. “Hold! Do not shoot him. Let him come on and face me with his knife, for he boasted a moment since that no man dare face him.” “In Satan’s name, who are you?” cried Bad Burke, his hand upon his knife hilt. “Buffalo Bill!” It was evident that Bad Burke had heard the name before, for his hand quickly slipped from his knife hilt toward a pistol butt. “Just move one inch, aye, crook your finger, and I’ll send your soul to perdition.” The pistol of Buffalo Bill covered the heart of the outlaw, who whined out: “Pard, you’ve the advantage of a fellow and ought to let up a little.” “I will; miss, will you be kind enough to remove the pistols from that villain’s belt?” Pearl instantly stepped forward and did as directed, making a motion with the weapons as if about to murder the frightened lieutenant of bandits. “Thank you; now, Bad Burke, we stand on an equal footing,” and Buffalo Bill cast his pistols upon the ground. With a suppressed yell of rage Bad Burke rushed upon his cool enemy, for now he believed he had it all his own way, as his boast was not an idle one regarding his prowess with a knife. Calmly the scout met his attack. The blades clashed together with an ominous ring. Notwithstanding his skill and strength, Bad Burke was hurled backward, and seized in the powerful grip of the scout, whose keen knife gleamed in the sunlight, and then, with a crunching thud, was driven to the hilt in the outlaw’s heart. A stifled groan, and Bad Burke’s cruel life had ended. With bated breath Pearl had stood and watched the deadly encounter between Buffalo Bill and Bad Burke. Notwithstanding her apparent fear, the outlaw had been in double danger, for, had there been the slightest sign that victory would fall to him, the girl had her rifle ready to do its deadly work. “You are from one of the camps of the white men?” she asked. “Yes,” the scout answered. “I was on my way to find them. Your life and the lives of your friends are in danger,” simply replied the girl. “My life is ever in danger. You were going to warn us of danger, you say?” “Yes, sir.” “Where did you expect to find us?” the scout inquired. “At the miners’ stronghold, far down the glen.” “It is miles away, and your feet would have tired with their long walk.” “I am accustomed to long walks over the hills, sir.” “Are you not afraid of danger meeting you?” the scout questioned. “No, sir; I have little fear.” “Yet just now you were powerless in the hands of a ruffian.”