rted to the despatcher, who answered at
once.

"Relief train," he wired, "now making up with a hundred men. Hold on
as long as you can, but take no chances. What are they doing? Can you
see or hear them?"

"They are yelling so you could hear them a mile."

"Scout around a little," directed the despatcher, "but don't get
caught."

Bucks scouted around the room a little, but did not venture this time
farther than the windows. He was growing very nervous. And the
Indians, unrestrained in their triumph, displayed themselves
everywhere without concealment. Helpless to aid, Bucks was compelled
to stand and see a fleeing white man, the brakeman of the doomed
train, running for his life, cut down by the pursuers and scalped
before his eyes.

The horror and savagery of it sank deeply into the boy's heart and
only the realization of his utter inability to help kept him quiet.
Tears of fury coursed down his cheeks as he saw in the distance the
murdered man lying motionless on the sand beside the track, and with
shaking fingers he reported the death to Medicine Bend.

"The relief train has started," answered the despatcher, "with
Stanley, Scott, Sublette, Dancing, and a hundred men."

As the message came, Bucks heard shooting farther up the creek and
this continued at intervals for some moments. It was sickening to
hear, for it meant, Bucks surmised, that another trainman was being
murdered.

Meantime the Indians that he could see were smashing into the wrecked
merchandise cars and dragging the loot out upon the open prairie.
Hats, clothing, tobacco, provisions, camp supplies of every sort, and
musical instruments, millinery, boots, and blankets were among the
plunder. The wearing apparel was tumbled out of the broken cases and,
arrayed in whatever they could seize, the Indians paraded on their
horses up and down the east bank of the creek in fantastic show.

Some wore women's hats, some crinoline hoop-skirts over their
shoulders; others brandished boots and shirts, and one glistening
brave swung a banjo at arm's-length over his flying horse's head.
Another party of the despoilers discovered a shipment of silks and
satins. These they dragged in bolts from the packing-cases and, tying
one end of a bolt of silk to their ponies' tails, they raced,
yelling, in circles around the prairie with the parti-colored silks
streaming behind, the bolts bobbing and jerking along the ground like
rioting garlands of a crazy May-pole da