“I am sorry you came, Frank, for it only brings you into a tight place,” said Buffalo Bill, in a low tone to the Surgeon Scout, and he at once drew a second revolver from his belt to have it ready, though he did not take his eyes off of the miner whom he covered. “I don’t mind it, Bill, and I’m always ready to die, if need be, for a comrade. If they make a rush, kill that man, then stand back to back with me and let us make a record before we go under,” was Frank Powell’s response. “I’m with you, Frank,” rejoined Cody, and he added, addressing the miner: “You started this circus, Mister Pistols, but you won’t see the end of it.” “Cuss you, I’ll call ’em off if you’ll call it quits,” returned Pistols eagerly, now thoroughly terrified when he saw another leader in the field who meant to precipitate matters independent of him. “Pard, you talk in your sleep, for you could no more call off that pack than you could tell the truth. No, you set the tune and the song must be sung through.” In the meanwhile, the Surgeon Scout was watching the wildly swaying crowd, which were gradually drawing closer about them, and he was just about to open fire when there suddenly rang out a clear voice above the noisy hum: “Hold! What does this mean, I should like to know?” Instantly there was silence, intense in that it followed such an uproar. Then hats were doffed, the crowd swayed apart, and toward the table where Buffalo Bill still held the miner under cover of his revolver, and the Surgeon Scout stood at bay by his side, glided Bonnie Belle. She was dressed in a blue dress, trimmed with silver braid, wore a slouch-hat with a heavy sable plume, and carried a revolver in each hand. Behind her came Sandy, the driver of the Overland, and then Scott Kindon, the captain of the Vigilantes. But, Bonnie Belle neither needed aid nor asked it. Her simple presence commanded respect. They had deemed her far away in the East, and like an apparition she had glided through the door she always entered by, and her white face, now stern and threatening, showed that she was in no humor to trifle with. “Ah! Surgeon Powell, it is you, and you also, Buffalo Bill, whom these roughs hold at bay? And for what?” “I was scouting, Bonnie Belle, and came upon two men, Tom and Jerry they called them, breaking into Deadshot Dean’s cabin. I made them prisoners, brought them here, and the Vigilantes hanged them. To-night this man, whom I have covered, accused me of breaking into the cabin, and he was not long in getting willing hands to hang me, and, but for the coming of Surgeon Powell, it would have been over ere this.” “And I only checked the trouble for a few minutes, Bonnie Belle, as the men turned upon me, also. I took Buffalo Bill’s trail and followed him here, for somehow I feared he might need aid. You have saved us both by your timely coming, unless these gentlemen wish to push their quarrel to a conclusion.”