At night the cabin was reached and quietly surrounded, and at daylight, when the cabin door was opened by Ginger Sam, he looked squarely into the muzzle of Buffalo Bill’s revolver. Up went his hands and he said: “Waal, you wins ther game.” “I will, when I play my last card, Ginger Sam.” “What are that?” “A rope,” was the significant reply. “You don’t intend ter hang me?” “Yes, with four more of your kind I found in the Big Horn and whom Major Armes will make short work of, as he will you, and that will about clear this country of such cattle as you. I knew you were bad as they make ’em, but I have a friend who knows you to be a renegade and the secret instigator of half the Indian deviltry done here. I refer to Don Miller, whom the Indians captured, and understanding Sioux well, he asked about you, as he thought you might get them not to kill him, for once he had saved your life. But get your traps ready, for after breakfast we start for the fort.” The next afternoon Buffalo Bill, his black scouts, and his prisoner reached Fort Aspen, and the welcome the garrison gave them, and also the rescued settlers, for they had arrived the day before, was enough to repay the men all the hardships they had endured. “Another one to hang, Cody?” “Well, he’s a little late, for the other four were hanged this morning; but it is never too late to do a good act, and there has been a price on that man’s head for a long time. “Yes, the four wretches who proved such traitors to the settlers, I had tried at once, and they were quickly sentenced, and to-morrow this man’s life shall end, for white outlaws must expect no mercy here. “But, Cody, let me thank you for your splendid services in behalf of Fort Aspen and its garrison, and believe me, a full report of what you have done shall go to headquarters without delay.” CHAPTER XXXI. ANOTHER STRANGE STORY. About a week later, Cody returned to Fort Advance one night from a lone expedition, just as all the garrison were looking upon him as dead, believing that he had at last met the doom so many had predicted he would, and wondering why he had not long before done so. “Corporal of the guard! Cody is returning,” repeated the sentinel, as he recognized a horseman coming at a lope over the plain. And such a cheer as went up at the words of the sentinel was seldom heard, for that Buffalo Bill had discounted all predictions and again proved his title to “bearing a charmed life,” was a joy to one and all in the fort. He looked worn and haggard, and his horse was gaunt and weary, as they passed in through the stockade; but the greeting was a grand one. Even Colonel Carr had begun to regard the scout as dead, for many anxious days had passed since he had left the post on his recent mission.