“You hit the bull’s-eye, Ike, but you haven’t said it all. I reckon I’ve got to keep my gun ready, and be quicker than greased lightning till I get out of this territory. Every man-jack, red and white, seems looking for my scalp, except a few like you and Pete.” “Keep a stiff upper lip, old man. I’m with you, and the liveliest ghost Buffalo Bill and his pards ever run up against. I want just one more whack at that crowd.” “I hope you get it, Ike, and redeem your reputation. Your giant powder seemed hoodooed over Bozeman way.” “I’ve got a new lot in my bag, and it’s good for a free ticket for the whole bunch of trail hunters, if I can get a chance to put it under ’em.” “I hope you get the chance, but I want first and most to get as far from these Yankton Sioux and Crows as possible. I want to hit south and make Laramie City before I stop. Then I propose to prance in a different harness for a while.” “Do you know which way Buffalo Bill went after the round-up?” “Yes, I was particular to keep my ears open till I was sure of the course he was steering. He went to Helena to rustle the boys up there.” “What do the soldiers think of Cody?” “Oh, they think he’s a wonder, and they swear by him in seven languages.” “Between you and me, Price, he is the only man this side the hot place that could have done you and your gang up in such short order.” “And the only man who was too sharp to be caught by your quick-trip tickets,” retorted Price. “I’ll get him yet,” said Ike. “I hope you will, as I said before, but when you do will you please send me word, for I want a chance to help pick up the pieces.” “If either of his ears is left whole I’ll send it to you---- Roaring rattlesnakes! see there!” The cause of the exclamation of “Bloody Ike,” for it was none other than the ex-miner, was the sight of two red men leaned well forward on flying ponies. The Indians were drumming incessantly the sides of the animals in attempt to get more speed out of them, while three hundred yards in the rear came a tall, gaunt horse, with long, regular bounds that were gradually lessening the distance between him and the ponies. On the back of the horse sat a broad-shouldered, bewhiskered man with eyes fixed on the red men and ready rifle across his knees. Now both Indians turned in the saddle and blazed away at their pursuer, who neither hesitated, changed his course, nor lifted his rifle. The Indians began hurriedly to reload, working their heels at the flanks of their ponies the while, with the motions of a wooden monkey on a stick. The trio were only half a mile away to the northward and rapidly going east. The watchers at the shack amused themselves by comments on the race, but admired the cool determination of the white pursuer, who glanced neither to right nor left, as the Indians again turned and emptied their rifles at him.