Buffalo Bill's Boy Bugler; Or, The Last of the Indian RingIngraham, Prentiss
General
Buffalo Bill's Boy Bugler; Or, The Last of the Indian Ring
Ingraham, Prentiss
Buffalo Bill, 1846-1917 -- Fiction; Dime novels
“We’re yer highbucks,” came the answer, and away Fighting Dan’s party
dashed.
When well beyond the view of the mule men, Fighting Dan pulled up and
said:
“Rest yer plugs while Lex and me scouts er bit. Them fellers hain’t
seen any Injuns, and their mules hadn’t been stampeded. Some o’ them
chaps belong to Price’s gang, and I’ll bet my hoss they had been down
here ter hide some guv’ment supplies till they get a chance to ship
’em. Ye see the officers are gittin’ pretty clost hauls on Price, and
he’s takin’ care of his stuff. What d’ ye say, boys? Haven’t we a right
to a share in ther loot?”
“It’s a safe bet we have, and we are the boys that can take the goods
if your human bloodhound can lead us to ’em,” came the reply.
“That’s ther talk! Now, Lex an’ me’ll go on a still hunt fer ther
trail, an’ you fellers stay here ready for a charge to the rescue if
you hear fireworks. If Price has got any valerbles here he ain’t ther
fool ter leave ’em uncovered, an’ it may mean er scrap.”
Fighting Dan and his plainsman set out on foot, and first climbed well
into the mountains, where they could command a view of the plain to
the northward, to see if the men with the mules kept on. They had held
straight toward town, so Dan and his trailer chose the best footing
possible back around the mountain to the trail they had left.
At last they saw where the mules had just passed out, and took the back
trail into the mountains. A little farther on they discovered that
another party on horseback had struck the trail ahead of them and were
following in the way the mules had come out.
“Well, I’ll be riddled with forty-fours!” exclaimed Dan. “This gets me
all right. Who be these other chaps thet hev jumped ther claim ahead of
us?”
“They are white men,” answered Lex, “for their horses are shod.”
“That’s so. Now, let’s go cautious, an’ not run inter any shootin’ bees
’thout havin’ our own powder dry. This is gittin’ as interestin’ as er
game o’ odd an’ even, with beans for stake money.”
Half an hour later Fighting Dan and Lex passed around a jutting ledge
and beheld six horsemen pulled up in front of the black mouth of the
old mine. They seemed to be holding parley with invisible parties in
the darkness beyond.
“That’s Red Dick, or I’m ther living image of a liar!” gasped Dan.
He watched for a moment, and then said:
“See here, Lex; you let me hev yore guns ter go with mine, an’ I’ll
keep ’em in there if they try to get out, while you go back arter ther
boys. If there’s any honey to be passed round, Red Dick ain’t goin ’ter
sweeten his lips. What!”
Lex stole away, and Fighting Dan looked to his guns, while from an
angle in the rocks above and behind the gambler two more heads appeared.
They belonged to old Nomad and Skibo.
CHAPTER XIV.
CAYUSE TURNS A TRICK.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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