“Waugh! Buffler, I war moseyin’ round, lookin’ ter see what war ter be seen, when all to onct I heerd some men talkin’. They war white men, and when I’d got nigh enough ter see ’em I knowed from their gin’ral make-up and apeerances that they war outlaws, ef their talk hadn’t soon told me. “Waal, it seems outlaws aire hyar in purty consid’able force, hidin’, and they’re layin’ fer ther Redskin Rovers, which aire approachin’ out of ther hills. They sighted ther Rovers about daylight, and have been layin’ fer ’em ever sense. “It seems thet they’ve got a grudge agin’ ther redskins; fer ther reason thet ther redskins has been doin’ a lot o’ robbin’ and stealin’, and ther like, and the outlaws has been gittin’ ther blame of it. “They think that ther reckless doin’s of ther Injuns is goin’ ter cause a strong force of soldiers ter be sent out hyar. So, ter take the cuss off, they’re goin’ ter wipe out ther reds. I cal’late they think, too, that if one robber band is wiped out ther’ll be more pickin’ fer ther one thet’s left.” “Where were these men?” Buffalo Bill asked, interested at once. “Right out yander on ther side o’ thet hill, where ther bushes aire thick as hair on a dog and a feller can’t see two yards afore his nose. I wouldn’t knowed they war thar but Nebby smelt ’em out fer me; and when I’d left ther ole hoss behind and had croped up on foot, then I seen ’em, and I heerd ’em. Thar war three of ’em, and it seemed they war doin’ sort of sentinel duty.” “This is important,” said the scout. “For the Redskin Rovers are advancing, and some of their scouts have already got this far.” Then he related what he had seen, and it was of a character to offset even the remarkable story told by Nomad. Pizen Kate again vociferously declared that if a fight came she intended to witness it. “’Tain’t fittin’ thet a lady should witness warfare and bloodshed!” Nomad protested, with a twinkling smile. “How do you know it ain’t?” she asked. “Was you ever a lady? And, if you never was, how kin you speak fer ’em? I’m a lady, and I know more what’s becomin’ ter one than you do. So, Nicholas, jes’ shet yer baboon head and stop tryin’ ter give me advice.” “Katie,” said Nomad, with another grin, “the only way ter give you advice and have it ter take effect would be ter pump it inter ye with a shotgun.” The fight which Nick Nomad anticipated, and which he had heard those three outlaws talking about, came even sooner than he expected it would. The Redskin Rovers were already in the timbered belt that fringed the lower hills. As they emerged on the edge of the mesa they were set upon without warning by the outlaws, who charged, riding out of the timber, and attacked with wild yells and a firing of rifles. The unexpectedness of the attack threw the Redskin Rovers into confusion. But they knew who these white men were, and that they were not only their rivals in robbery and bloodshed, but their deadly foes as well.