ce on the other side of the house;
but this array of numbers did not deter him when a woman called for aid,
and dismounting quickly he bounded upon the piazza, and was just running
into the door when a man came out into the hall and fired at him, but
fortunately missed him.

Bill instantly returned the fire, and his quick, unerring aim sent a
bullet into the man's brain.

At the shots a wilder cry came from within for help and two men dashed
out into the hall, and, seeing Billy, three pistols flashed together.

But Billy was unhurt, and one of his foes fell dead, while springing
upon the other he gave him a stunning blow with his revolver that put
him out of the fight, and then bounded into the room to discover an
elderly lady and a lovely young girl threatened by two huge ruffians,
who were holding their pistols to their heads to try and force from them
the hiding-place of their money and valuables.

Seeing Billy, they both turned upon him, and a fierce fight ensued,
which quickly ended in the killing of both ruffians by the brave young
soldier, who seemed to bear a charmed life, for he was unhurt, though he
had slain four men in a desperate combat and wounded a fifth.

Just then into the room dashed three men, and their weapons were leveled
at Buffalo Billy, and right then and there his days would have ended had
it not been for the courage and presence of mind of the lovely young
girl, who threw herself forward upon his breast, to the youth's great
surprise, and cried out:

"Father! Brothers! don't fire, for this man is our friend."

The old man and his sons quickly lowered their rifles, while the former
said:

"A friend in blue uniform, while we wear the gray?'

"I am a Union soldier, sir, I admit, and I was going by your home, heard
a cry for help, and found your wife and daughter, as I suppose them to
be, at the mercy of five ruffians, and I was fortunate enough to serve
them.

"But I will not be made prisoner, gentlemen."

Billy's hands were on his revolvers and he looked squarely in the faces
of those in his front, and they could see that he was a man who meant
what he said.

"My dear sir, I am a Confederate, I admit, and this is my home; but I am
not the one to do a mean action toward a Union soldier, and especially
one who has just served me so well in killing these men, whom I
recognize as jay-hawkers, who prey on either side, and own no allegiance
to North or South.

"Here is my hand, sir, an