“Next to Cody himself you’re the man I want,” declared Major Baldwin; “for, although all my officers and men are true as steel--and able, too--your experience is worth much, not to speak of the value of your rifle. Your coming and the knowledge that Cody has got through all right gives us a new lease of life.” The major’s praise tinged the bronzed cheek of the scout with blushes, and he hurried away to remove his war-paint and to change into more civilized garments. CHAPTER X. THE RIDE TO THE RESCUE. The Border King, after leaving Texas Jack in the cañon, did not spare the white horse he rode, for he was riding to save many human lives. He had known this horse when he was the favorite steed of Colonel Nelson A. Miles, and the scout well knew the endurance of which the horse was capable. The creature had been captured by Oak Heart, the king of the Utah Sioux, in an attack on a military camp, and Colonel Miles had told Cody to try and get him back from his Indian master. “I hate to think of the old fellow being handled by that red scamp. Get him back, Cody, and he’s yours,” the colonel had told the scout. And now Buffalo Bill had the long-barreled, strong-limbed racer under him, and he was proving himself as fleet as a deer and as tireless as a hound. “The colonel used to call you Runaway, I remember,” said the scout, talking aloud to the handsome creature, and patting the side of his neck with a tender hand, “and what Oak Heart christened you I don’t know, but I shall call you after your redskin master, and it shall be Chief.” The horse snorted and tossed his head as though he understood what was being said to him, and hour after hour, mile after mile, he kept up his steady lope--that long, free canter that takes the Western range horse over so long a trail in so short a time. Darkness fell soon after Cody rode away from Texas Jack. He hoped to reached the military post for which he aimed before midnight. And he was not mistaken. The new day had not commenced when the scout on his white charger thundered up to the gates of Fort Resistence. “Halt! Who comes here?” rang out the sentinel’s challenge. “All right, pard! This is Scout Cody with an urgent message for the commander. Let me in!” “By thunder! Is it really you, Buffalo Bill?” cried the sentinel over the gate. “What’s left of me after about the hardest day’s work of my life.” “Injuns?” “And a-plenty of them. Hurry up, old man! This is no place for gossip,” urged the scout. “Wait till I call the corporal,” exclaimed the curious sentinel. Then: “Corporal of the guard! Corporal of the guard! Rouse up, corporal! There’s somebody at the gate!” Half the garrison was aroused by the shouting. The corporal came on the run, saw who it was without, and let the scout and his dripping horse within. “Injuns, sure, Cody?” asked those who were awake.