Slipping to the ground, Bill Betts spread open his umbrella gun, and he and the baron got behind it. The baron then saw that around the handle--which was the gun--where it passed through the umbrella there were openings, so that through them he and Betts could look out. Through those openings, also, Betts could aim the gun. “The old thing is chock-a-block with ca’tridges, as I call ’em,” said Betts. “I kin mow down half a dozen reds without havin’ to reload, and I got plenty more ca’tridges in my pockets. Now, we’ll git closer.” Pushing the open umbrella carefully ahead of him and moving slowly, Betts made a cautious approach to the lodge where the howling Utes were seen. They were stopped in this perilous advance by seeing the rear of the lodge break open suddenly and Gorilla Jake come rolling out, dragging with him a number of Utes. Though he was painted like the Indians, Bill Betts knew him at once. “Wow!” Betts breathed. “See that--see it?” “I am seening idt.” “Thar he goes down, with Injuns right on top o’ him; they’re goin’ ter kill him. Would you open on ’em if you was me?” The German caught Betts by the arm. “Dond’t dooded idt!” he whispered. “Idt vouldt pe our finishment.” “But they’re killin’ him, I reckon.” “Yaw! Idt looks like idt.” “And if they finish him, how am I to git that reward?” “You von’dt gidt eeny uff idt, Misder Petts, uff you make a foolishness mit yourselluf righdt now. I am vondering dot dey ton’dt seen us.” Then the German saw Tim Benson leap out of the lodge entrance and go scampering in the other direction. Betts caught sight of him, too. “Thar goes Benson,” Betts whispered, his hands shaking. “Yaw! I seen him. Budt I ain’dt vanting to foller him dhis minude. Vot I am loogking vor iss Puffalo Pill. You ton’dt seen Cody?” “No, I don’t see him.” They beheld the “finish” of Gorilla Jake, to the great grief of Bill Betts. The Indians had killed the apelike man without mercy, simply because he could not furnish them more whisky. A little after that the two crouching behind the umbrella beheld the scalp of the unfortunate man elevated on a lance before the lodge, with the drunken Indians dancing and howling round it. “Gives me the creeps!” commented Bill Betts. “I’m beginnin’ to think that Jim didn’t come hyer.” “Budt Cody dit!” whispered the German. “Yit he may have got out before this happened.” “Yaw, I am hobing so.” Bill Betts’ keen eyes beheld sneaking forms near the outer lodges. He stared at them. What had seemed but one man became suddenly two, when the blanket round them dropped down. “White men!” he gasped. “I’m betting one of ’em is Jim Betts. He’s that reckless he’s allus runnin’ inter danger.” “Unt der odder iss maype Cody, who is yoost as reckless. Now, you unt me----” “B’ jings, I believe they’re comin’ round this way. If one o’ them men is Brother Jim I’ll roast him fer runnin’ hisself into danger like this.”