He released the villain’s throat, but held his revolver before his eyes. Wild Bill lost no time in complying. While doing this, he was startled by hearing the clatter of the pony’s feet. Garland, thoroughly frightened now, had started the pony, in the hope of escaping, even though tied. “Stop!” Wild Bill drew down on him. “I can’t stop,” Garland yelled; “the pony is running away with me!” “Oh, you can’t, eh?” Wild Bill yelled to the pony, commanding it to stop, and saw Garland dig his tied heels into the pony’s side to make it go on. His revolver cracked, and the pony pitched over with a bullet in its head. In its fall it pinned Garland’s leg under it, and held him fast; so that, with the cords on him, he was in a helpless position. “Stay there a while,” said Wild Bill grimly, as he turned back to aid Buffalo Bill in securing the robber chief. As they tied Panther Pete they marveled at his cleverness, for they saw that his resemblance to Buffalo Bill was largely due to the clothing he had on, to the manner in which he wore his hair and beard, together with the fact that he was a large and tall man. Out of his eyes now looked terror; for he knew who these men were, and he feared them with a deathly fear. CHAPTER XLIV. THE GIRL’S FLIGHT. Ellen West, much relieved by the ceasing of that terrible baying of the hounds, stumbled on through the darkness, over the rough stones that cut her feet and tore her clothing, filled with the hopeful assurance that whatever befell her she was for the time out of the power of Panther Pete and his gang of desperadoes. By and by when she felt that she could go not another step, being utterly spent, she sank down on the ground. About her was darkness and silence, with the kindly stars looking down on her. Sometimes she wondered if she were not dreaming, and would soon awake in her own home and discover that all this was but a wild nightmare. But the chill of the night air, after her exertions, told her soon that it was all too real. She crawled beneath an overhanging rock for shelter, and there, after a time, she fell asleep. She was so worn that she slept heavily, in spite of all that had happened, and did not awake until the sun was beating hot in her face. She aroused, with a start, and looked about uneasily. She saw that her clothing was torn and draggled, and that her shoes were cut by the rocks, which had also cut her feet. Her hands and arms, and her face, were scratched. She started up, fearing pursuit; and then, seeing nothing, and hearing nothing, she began to take stock of her situation. It was bad enough, but so much better than it had been that she felt hopeful.