“Ah, but they do! It is only the fool that says ‘It is all over!’ when his enemy is dead by his hand. It is not over. It has only begun! My fate will become known; a hundred border men will not rest till they learn who committed this deed; and then a thousand men will not rest till vengeance is satisfied!” “Bah! Your friends might be bad men to meet, I’ve no doubt--if they could prove anything.” “They’ll prove enough. Your fate will be worse than mine, Boyd Bennett.” “You seem to be cock-sure of what I’m going to treat you to?” said Bennett. “I am.” “Well, what is it?” “You propose to lead the horses to yonder fork of the trail, turn them loose, and start them down Breakneck Hill.” “Right! Right, by thunder!” roared the road-agent, slapping his thigh and laughing. “You are a mighty good guesser, Buffalo Bill. That is exactly what I shall do.” CHAPTER XVII. A FRIEND IN NEED. If Buffalo Bill’s face paled he showed no other mark of fear. He knew Boyd Bennett, and had every reason to believe that the man hated him desperately enough to carry out his awful threat. It was no bluff on the outlaw’s part to frighten him into giving up the secret of the hidden government money. To a man like Bennett, whose temper was ungovernable, revenge was worth more than treasure. He did not even ask the scout where he had hidden the treasure-box. “I haven’t forgotten, my handsome plainsman, that once you captured me and sent me to the guard-house. I swore to be revenged upon you then.” “You deserved what you got--you dirty deserter!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill. The outlaw leader shrugged his shoulders and turned to his men. “All ready?” “He’s hard and fast, captain.” “Unfasten that splendid horse he was riding. I need just such an animal in my business.” They untied Chief from the leaders. “Buffalo Bill, straight for the Breakneck you go. And if these horses don’t carry you down fast enough to smash this old coach to atoms and break your cursed neck, I’ll give up this business and turn parson!” “You’ll never have time to repent of your sins and turn parson, Bennett,” said the scout. “Meaning I’ll die with my boots on?” asked the outlaw lightly. “Meaning you’ll be hung,” returned Buffalo Bill. “Don’t you put too much confidence in _that_, old man,” said Bennett. “At least, you won’t be to my hanging.” “There’s many a slip, you know,” said the scout tauntingly. “I presume you hope to be rescued even now, do you not?” cried Bennett. But Buffalo Bill did not expect that. He had taunted the man, hoping to inspire him with such ungovernable fury that he would shoot him quickly and so save him the awful ride to death. Even the boldest man might shrink from that journey down Breakneck Hill! “No, no, old man! You are mine this time. I tell you that you, the horses, and the old hearse, shall all go to the devil together. Here, boys! lead the horses to yonder fork of the roads and there turn them loose!”