“You, Black Bill, hide in the pines, rifle in hand, and be ready to drop those men if they attempt to run away.” “Yes, sah, I’ll do it.” “Hide a short distance off in the pines. Are you ready?” “Yes, sah.” “All right. I’ll wait in the cabin to welcome them.” The negro shouldered his rifle and walked to a place of hiding, with the scout by his side. Then Buffalo Bill returned to the cabin and closed the door, to wait the arrival of the visitors. That the chief of scouts had made no mistake in his surmise as to who the two horsemen were was proven by the sound of hoofs coming up the cañon. The guide saw by the moonlight two men, with five led horses, two carrying packs, pass by him. He heard one say: “I’ll be sartin afore I make a break, for we don’t know what has happened in ther three months we has been away.” “All right; I’ll wait here,” was the answer. The first speaker then rode on alone to the cabin and called out: “Ho, pards, kin yer give a couple of friends lodgin’ fer ther night?” The two prisoners writhed in agony of spirit, but Buffalo Bill, imitating the voice of Rocks, and having learned the names of the two men, called out: “Hooray! Is that you, Jim Sims and Alex Sands?” “It are. Any one with you?” “Yes; two pards is here. Wait until I open the door, and you bet we is glad ter see yer, fer Tom is laid up jist now and feelin’ mighty bad.” “Hoop-la! Come on, Alex!” cried Jim Sims in a joyful tone. “They are here, and all’s O.K., with the goose hanging high.” The tone was exultant, and Jim Sims leaped from his horse, stepped to the door, and was suddenly seized by the throat with a grip of iron, hurled to the dirt floor and heard the words: “Utter a sound of warning to your pard and you are a dead man!” The man was silent with fright, and, in an instant, the lariat of Buffalo Bill had been passed round and round his arms, pinioning them to his body, while his weapons had been removed. “Come in, Alex, and see poor Tom,” said Buffalo Bill, and the other man, having dismounted, stepped into the cabin, to be felled his full length by a stunning blow dealt him by Buffalo Bill full in the face. “Ho, Black Bill!” called out the scout, and the negro sprang into the cabin at the call, having followed the last man closely. The latter found himself bound before he recovered from the scout’s stunning blow full in the face, but he gasped: “Who is yer, cuss yer?” “A government officer on the track of gold boomers, four of whom we have just roped in, for there lie your pards Tom and Rocks, in as bad way as you are.” “Is this one all secure?” “You bet he is, Massa Buf’ler Bill.” “Buffalo Bill! That means we hang, Jim!” cried Alex Sands, in bitter tones. “So you are Buffalo Bill, is yer?” asked Jim Sims. “Yes; anything else I can do for you?” The scout naturally felt elated over his successful capture without firing a shot or having taken a life. “No, cuss yer, yer hev done too much.”