“Buffalo Bill, you have sealed your doom by this act!” “Say! I’ve heard talk like that before, Bennett.” “Mine are no idle words.” “Well, go on with the dance,” quoth the scout coolly. “Here!” commanded the bandit chief, “two of you men get up on the box and bind him.” He was obeyed at once, as far as the climbing to the box went, although the fellows approached the scout gingerly enough. Buffalo Bill sat smiling, with his hands still raised above his head. Suddenly, as the men were about to seize him, and their bodies in some measure intervened between his own and the rifles and pistol pointed at the scout, the latter seized both with iron grip. Giving his war-whoop, the scout leaped up, hurled one of the road-agents to the ground, and with the other in his arms leaped from the box of the coach. As they alighted, Buffalo Bill drew a revolver, and was throwing it forward to fire at the outlaw chief, when the weapon was knocked from his hand by a blow from behind, and several of the bandits threw themselves upon him. “For your lives, do not kill him!” shouted Bennett, springing forward to join in the fight for the mastery of the scout. Borne down by the weight of numbers, Buffalo Bill was unable to break from his foes, and he was soon securely bound, hand and foot. Then the bandits turned to their chief for further orders. The expression of fiendish cruelty upon Bennett’s face showed that he had formed some diabolical plot to avenge himself upon his old-time foe. He believed that Buffalo Bill had thwarted him in his desire to get the government money; and, anyway, there was an old score between them, and Bennett proposed to square the account to date! “Now drag him up to that box again,” ordered the bandit leader, and with some effort they accomplished it. “Lash him there!” was the next command, and the scout was securely tied to the seat. “Now throw the reins loosely over the foot-board!” This order was likewise obeyed, Buffalo Bill the while looking calmly on, evidently anticipating the crime his enemy intended, yet uttering no word. He would not plead for his life of the miserable cur who now had him in his power. Having executed their work, by lashing Buffalo Bill with lariats firmly to the box seat and his feet to the foot-board, the outlaws turned to their cruel captain for further orders. It was at this moment that Buffalo Bill took occasion to speak; but his voice was calm and his manner unshaken: “Hold on, Bennett, before you go too far!” The bandits’ chief turned with a wicked smile, and asked: “With what do you threaten me, Bill Cody?” “The worst fate that ever met mortal man, if you dare commit the deed you have in view,” was the bold reply. “Dead men tell no tales!”