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Updated: June 12, 2025
Every vine and scrubby bush down the cliff wall was tested for its strength and root, and Dancing held Bucks's hand so that he could instantly release it if he himself should plunge to death. Bucks had already been told that if this happened he must hang as long as he could without moving and if he could hold on till daylight he would be rescued by railroad men.
The sun had hardly risen next morning, when Bob Scott, without any words of explanation, ran into Bucks's room, woke him hurriedly, and, bidding him dress quickly, ran out. It took only a minute for Bucks to spring from his cot and get into his clothes and he hastened out of doors to learn what the excitement was about. Scott was walking fast down toward the bridge. Bucks joined him.
The information all went to the despatcher, however, who, more experienced, scented serious mischief when Bucks's bulletins now came in. "Watch close," he wired. "It looks as if they were going to attack the train." The operator's anxiety rose with the intimation.
And Scott, with some quiet grimaces, recounted Bucks's story of his descent of Point of Rocks the night before, under the fire of the three desperadoes. That he himself was now taking his own life in his hands as he started on a perilous reconnoissance, cost him no thought. Such a situation he was quite used to.
Then it seemed to Bucks's unaccustomed ears as if a thousand lusty throats were opened, and scared rigid he looked behind him and saw the canyon below alive with warriors. They were riding helter-skelter to reach a range where they could pick the fugitives off the crest of the canyon side. Within a minute, almost, their rifles were cracking.
Bucks continued, however, his non-committal scrutiny, recalling that the foreman had said nothing good of Scuffy, and the homeless cur stood in doubt as to his reception. But realizing, perhaps, that he had nothing to lose and everything to gain, the little vagabond played his last card he wagged his stubby tail. A harder heart than Bucks's might have been touched. The operator held out his hand.
This message had hardly reached Goose Creek when the China boy came running into the telegraph office. His eyes were staring, and his face was greenish-white with fright. "Indians!" he exclaimed, running to Bucks's side and dashing back again to the west window. Bucks sprang to his feet. "Where?" Lee Ong pointed to the northern sand-hills.
"Stop!" he exclaimed, catching Bucks's arm in a grip of steel as the latter tried to drag down his antagonist. "I am Iron Hand. Does a boy fight me?" he demanded with contempt in every word. "See your knife." He pointed to the floor. "When I was wounded by the Cheyennes you gave me venison. You have forgotten; but the Sioux is not like the white man Iron Hand does not forget."
The sun was high when Scott reined up and, dismounting, tethered his horse in a glade hidden by a grove of aspens and bade Bucks do the same. "Getting hungry?" asked Scott, smiling at his companion. An answer was written pretty plainly on Bucks's face. "Didn't bring anything to eat, did you?" suggested Scott. Bucks looked blank. "I never thought of it," he exclaimed. "Did you bring anything?"
Stanley, assured of Bucks's safety, though he wasted no time in waiting for an explanation of it, directed the men to save what they could out of the station it was too late to save the building and hurried away to see to the unloading of the horses.
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