Instead of looking longer through the field glasses, he looked now through the telescopic sights of his rifle. He saw Snaky Pete standing before the woman, who was protecting Nick Nomad with her body. He saw the knife raised and glittering in Snaky Pete’s hand. Then his rifle cracked, with the sights bearing on the outlaw leader; and the bullet speeding true, he saw Snaky Pete pitch up his hands and roll to the ground. “Good work!” he said, patting the rifle affectionately. “That was about as long a shot as I ever made; but I got him.” He saw men spring for their horses, and knew they would ride out to the point where the rifle had sounded; yet he lingered long enough to see Snaky Pete lifted and carried aside. “I didn’t kill him,” he said. “The distance was too great, and I didn’t strike a vital spot; but he’ll remember it for some time, I’ve no doubt, and maybe it will teach him better manners.” He removed the telescopic sight and stowed it away and placed the field glasses in their case. Taking up his rifle, he made his way down the hill, keeping out of view of the horsemen who were now riding hard in his direction. Some distance below, in a growth of aspens, his horse had been concealed. Mounting, he rode down the slope. Then, swinging round the projecting base of the hill, he shaped his course across the open country. His horse was speedy, and it was seemingly untiring. Though the outlaws saw him soon, and gave hot chase, he steadily drew away from them, and in an hour he had lost sight even of the foremost. That night, as darkness fell, the great scout was before the gate at Fort Thompson, where a company of cavalry was stationed. He was challenged; then he was admitted and conducted to the headquarters of Major Clendenning, the commander. Cody’s horse was in a white lather of sweat from its long run; and the scout’s clothing was powdered with white dust, and dust streaked his face to a grayish tinge. He showed every indication of long and hard riding. Clendenning sprang up, with outstretched hand, when the noted scout was brought before him. Buffalo Bill had saluted, but he now took the extended hand of the officer. “In the name of Heaven, Cody, where have you come from?” cried the major. “I thought you were over about the Sepulcher Mountains.” “So I was, major,” was his answer, “but now I am here. I rode from there since this morning.” Major Clendenning’s amazement showed in his face. “You had a change of horses, no doubt, and you must be nearly dead! Let me get you some wine!” “I had only one horse. He is pretty well exhausted, but will be all right after a rest. I need another, which I hope you can let me have.” “Swallow the wine, Cody, and then I’ll hear your story. Straight from the Sepulcher Mountains since morning!” Buffalo Bill drank the wine, and then began to tell his story.