Had he not made this error he would have shot the Mad Hunter dead in that instant when the giant turned his head to look across the little valley. As he went backward, the officer flung away his useless revolver and clutched at his sword. But he could not get it from its scabbard in time. It was but half-drawn when he landed upon his back with a shock that almost deprived him of his senses! Fearful, indeed, were the chances against the officer. He was absolutely helpless then, and like a tiger-cat the madman had sprung at his falling body. He actually was in the air with the blade of his knife poised to thrust downward into the officer’s breast when the latter heard the crack of Buffalo Bill’s rifle on the other hillside. The keen eye of the scout on horseback had noted every move of the game on the ridge. He recognized the officer, and he guessed who the other man must be when he saw his threatening attitude. It was a long shot, and there was danger at first of his hitting the captain instead of his foe. But when the former flung himself backward the scout dared fire. And he pulled the trigger just in the nick of time. The maniac was already plunging forward to knife the supine soldier when the bullet sped on its mission. With a scream the madman pitched forward, over-leaping his victim, and falling on his face upon the ground, the knife being plunged hilt deep into the soft earth! A red streak showed across his scalp where the bullet had grazed the man’s crown. “Bravo, bravo, Buffalo Bill! I owe my life to him--and Heaven knows I was never in closer quarters with death!” cried the officer, as he leaped up and drew his sword to further defend himself. But the huge form lay still. The Mad Hunter lay unconscious. Therefore, turning to the opposite hill, he waved his hat, which he had picked up, to the horseman who was now spurring down into the valley. An answering yell from Buffalo Bill showed that he saw the officer was safe. The rifle-shot and the shout of the Border King was unheard down there in the bigger valley; all this tragic happening had been in sight of the camp of the troopers, yet had chanced to go unnoticed. It was the scout who had come upon the scene in the nick of time, and who again had proved himself a hero. With rapid bounds the scout urged his big white charger up the hill, from the shadows below to the twilight of the ridge summit. Finally he pulled up, threw himself from the saddle, and the officer caught his gauntleted hand. “God bless you, Cody!” “Captain Ed. Keyes!” “Always in the right place at the right time, scout. Another minute, and that old madman would have sent me on my long journey, and no mistake!” “I came blamed near being in the wrong place, captain,” said Cody seriously. “That was a long shot. I was taking great chances, and if you hadn’t flung yourself backward I should have scarcely risked firing at all.” Then he turned to view the prostrate form of the madman, and said: