They cheered him to the echo. Not a man there but felt proud to follow this gallant scout, whose reputation was so closely linked with that of the famous Seventh Cavalry. Members of that noted regiment had died with Custer on the battlefield of the Little Bighorn, when a handful of men were overwhelmed and swept out of existence by a horde of Indian braves, the flower of the Sioux nation. On almost every battlefield of the West in which Uncle Sam’s troopers were hurled against Indians or outlaws, the gallant Seventh had had representatives. The troopers cheered again, saluting the flag, as they passed in the night out through the heavy double gates of the fort. Major Clendenning accompanied them beyond the limits of the fort and its grounds. “Men,” he said, as he was about to turn back, “I have a new name for our famous scout. Hotspur usually refers to a man impetuous of temper; but it might mean, also, I think, a man who as a horseman rode with a spur so hot that in nine hours he covered the distance between the Sepulcher Mountains and Fort Thompson. So I give you a new name for him--Buffalo Bill, the Desert Hotspur.” He lifted his hat to the scout; and again the troopers cheered, their loud cheering rolling across the level lands in a way that, if it could have been heard by them, would have startled the desperadoes under Snaky Pete. Then the troopers, with Buffalo Bill riding swiftly at their head, to set the pace for them, galloped away through the night and the darkness, the thundering of the hoofs of the horses reaching into the barracks at the fort. CHAPTER XII. IN THE OUTLAW STRONGHOLD. Snaky Pete’s men, when they returned, reported that no horse they had could keep in sight of the thoroughbred ridden by Buffalo Bill. The outlaw chief received the report, lying on a roll of blankets, gasping and sputtering. The bullet fired by the scout had struck him on the lower lip, laying it open, knocking out some teeth, and bringing a spurt of blood from the wound. Snaky Pete had thought he was killed when he fell and knew that blood was pouring from his mouth. As a matter of fact, he was not seriously wounded, though the pain was sharp for a time, and the character of the wound made it difficult for him to speak. His fright did not soon pass, however. Even after his men returned with their report that Buffalo Bill had escaped he still lay on the blankets, moaning and cursing. The fact that Buffalo Bill had ridden toward distant Fort Thompson filled him with uneasiness. Because of it he ordered the horses to be got ready, and the entire band to move at once into the Sepulcher Mountains.