“Aye, they will!” assented Wild Bill, as he looked to his rifle and revolvers, and poked into them new cartridges. “I’m opining there will be some dead men decorating that trail in a very few minutes, if those fellows come on.” The men came on, with the dogs leading. Then the dogs discovered the men and the girl in the hollow of the rocks, and they charged, baying savagely. “Here’s for dead dog meat!” said Wild Bill, with a reckless laugh, as his revolver spouted its flame and lead, and the foremost dog pitched over, rolling down the hill. The horsemen farther down the trail drew rein. “Just come on!” said Wild Bill, speaking to them, but in a low tone. The other two dogs dashed at the barricade. One rolled down hill, killed by Buffalo Bill’s bullet. The other, frightened by that, retreated, and dashed back up the trail, barking in a startled manner. The horsemen dismounted, and began to confer. There were six of them, but soon more appeared; and then it became evident that still others were advancing, along another trail that centered at this point. The horsemen did not hesitate and confer long. They took their horses back out of sight, and disappeared themselves. “They are gone!” said the girl. “And will come back again,” said Wild Bill. In a little while a rifle spouted from out of the near-by hills, and the leaden missile whistled past the girl’s head and struck the rock behind her. “Down!” said Buffalo Bill. Another rifle flamed from another hill, and the lead came into the hollow. The sharpshooters were beginning their work. They had located their quarry, and from eminences that gave them range of the place they opened up now, determined to slay the men who had taken refuge there. CHAPTER XLV. THE FLAG OF TRUCE. Deland and Denton, with their “stool-pigeon” prisoner, were not far away when this battle opened up. Hatfield was piloting them to that “trap,” where he expected the sharpshooters would slay them. But when he heard the crack of those rifles, he recognized by the reports that they were the guns of some of the men he had thought were in the “trap.” That they were out there, firing, told him that something had gone wrong. “Hear that?” he said. “Yes,” said Denton; “what do you make of it?” “Some kind of a fight, I reckon,” said Hatfield. “You stay here, while I look into that, will ye?” said Deland. “From the sound of it, I’m jedgin’ that a battle is goin’ on that maybe we’re int’rested in, er might git int’rested in.” Denton did not like to remain behind. He had no thought, though, that his sweetheart was over there where that shooting was going on, for he did not know where she was, except that he believed she was held by Panther Pete; and Hatfield had been professing to lead them to Panther Pete’s lair. Hatfield looked uneasily in the direction of the firing. Deland was disappearing in that direction. Denton took out his revolver.