“Waal, what’s he done?” queried Banks satirically. “Here’s us, an’ where’s Bascomb, an’ Bernritter, an’ Giles? We’re down an’ out, the hull kit an’ caboodle o’ us.” “Nary, Banks,” said Hendricks. “We’ve saved our own bacon onless the scout goes back on his word. How is it, Buffalo Bill?” “I’ll keep my promise to you,” answered the scout, “but I don’t want to turn you adrift until the sheriff comes.” “Sher’f! Is _he_ coming?” “He’ll be here to-morrow.” “I don’t keer pertic’l’rly erbout meetin’ up with the sher’f, but if you say ye’ll keep yer word I don’t reckon we got any kick comin’.” “It wouldn’t do you any good if you had, Hendricks,” said the scout. Untying the feet of the two prisoners, Buffalo Bill let them dismount; then he bound their ankles again, and they sat upon the ground, their backs against the boxes of provisions. “How are you feeling, Cayuse?” asked the scout. “Me all right,” answered the boy, who had had his ears wide open listening to all the scout had said. “How’s your shoulder?” “Him fine.” “You haven’t had any dinner or supper, Cayuse. Get down from Bear Paw and untie that bag from the saddle-cantle. It’s full of chuck, and I reckon we’d both enjoy a dip into it. While we’re eating, Cayuse, you might help me keep watch of that bridge across the quicksands.” Cayuse followed the scout’s instructions, and he and the scout made a hurried meal off the food brought from the mine, and likewise supplied Banks and Hendricks with some of it. “How did Bascomb and Bernritter happen upon such a place as this for a rendezvous, Hendricks?” asked Buffalo Bill. “Bernritter knowed about it, I was told,” replied Hendricks, “an’ he put it up ter Bascomb.” “Who invented that causeway?” “Bernritter. He made it while he was at the mine, Bascomb said, an’ then brought it down here an’ tried it. It worked ter a charm. Ye see, ye kin unroll it and walk out from the island; then, when ye’re ready ter go back ter the island, ye kin roll it up behind ye an’ take it in. No one kin cross unless them as is on the island wants ’em to.” “Very clever,” commented the scout, “but Bascomb and Bernritter evidently overlooked the fact that it’s a thing that will work both ways. The quicksand keeps enemies away from them, and, at the same time, it keeps them away from their enemies.” “Waal,” muttered Hendricks, “thar’s a flaw in most schemes, an’ I ain’t s’prised none ter find er flaw in this ’un o’ Bernritter’s.” At this juncture, Little Cayuse started to his feet with a warning, “Ugh! Lis’en!” What the boy heard was a patter of galloping hoofs on the sand. A moment later a familiar voice boomed out into the night: “Buffler! Whar ther tarnation aire ye, anyways? Whoo-ee!” “This way, Nick!” shouted the scout. Half a minute later old Nomad and his horse took form in the moonlight, and galloped up to the barricade.