Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Weird Warning; Or, Dauntless Dell's Rival онлайн

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“You’re all to the good, Crawling Bear!” declared Wild Bill, sitting up at the edge of the ore-dump and pulling off his coat. “I had a close call, down there, and I reckon those yaps would have got me if it hadn’t been for you.”

Crawling Bear untied the rope from the saddle-horn and began coiling it in. When he had removed the rope spliced to the end of the picket-rope, he hung the coil in its proper place at Wild Bill’s saddle.

“Wild Bill hurt, huh?” he asked, mounting the side of the dump.

“A gouge through the fleshy part of the arm, that’s all,” the Laramie man answered, examining the injury. “The bullet flickered along the muscles and went on about its business.”

Wild Bill had cut away the sleeve of his flannel shirt in order to examine the injury. Out of the bottom of the sleeve he improvised a bandage, and Crawling Bear helped him put it in place.

When the arm was roughly bandaged, Wild Bill thrust his hand into the breast of his shirt.

“I’m worth a dozen dead men yet,” he went on, “but that outfit sure had it in for me. Don’t know as I can blame them, though, as they’ve got a hundred thousand at stake. I’m going to fool them out of that hundred thousand—watch my smoke.”