Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, Peacemaker; Or, On a Troublesome Trail онлайн

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Swearing under his breath, Red Steve went roughly to work at the ropes on the prisoner’s hands.

“He’s trying to tear my arms off, I reckon,” growled Nate Dunbar.

Bang!

Steve’s weapon spoke hoarsely from the scout’s hand. A bullet “plunked” into the earth wall over the shelf, fanning close to Steve’s face.

“I haven’t counted ‘three,’ yet,” said the scout, “so that’s only a warning. Be a little more careful, Steve.”

The red-haired man, by that time, was firmly convinced that his unwelcome visitor had not been talking for effect. In a few moments he had removed the ropes. Dunbar got off the shelf and stamped his feet and thrashed his arms to get his blood back into normal circulation.

As he came out farther into the lamplight, Buffalo Bill saw that he was an athletic young fellow, of about twenty-one or two. He wore the high-heeled boots of a cowboy, “chaps” were buckled about his waist, and a blue flannel shirt covered his broad shoulders. His face was frank and pleasing, not to say handsome.