Comanche stepped out again, once the shower had ceased and curiously picked up an object that had caught his eye.
He brought it within the circle of light, holding it at arm's length and gazed at it with fascinated eyes.
What he held was a battered human head. The cruel, blood-thirsty, malignant eyes of a savage redskin were gazing out at him from the tangle of hair and lacerated flesh that he held in his hand.
"Bah!" exclaimed Tony in a tone of disgust as he threw the horrible object far from him over the precipice.
Tony wiped his hand gingerly on his trousers, holding the hand up to the light to see that no traces of his recent burden remained.
"Ugh! It makes me feel hollow under the belt," averred Harry, turning away and knocking the ashes from his pipe.
"Well, boys," greeted Jesse suddenly appearing among them.
"That was a clean up for sartin," answered Texas, grinning. "One of 'em come down here and Tony here picked him up. He was going to kiss the fellow, but we wouldn't let him. Ha, ha."
Tony went outside for a breath of fresh air.
"There isn't much to tell," informed Jesse.
"The fools didn't even have pickets out. I managed to shove a stick of the stuff under the chief's wigwam--"
"Who, Great Bear?" interrupted Wild Bill.
"Yes. The rest of the stuff I distributed around where it would do the most good and crawling under a rock back of the village I let 'er rip."
"I should say you did," interjected Frank. "How many of them do you think you blew up?"
"I'll gamble my pistols that there isn't enough of that community left, if patched together, to make six whole men--maybe even less than that. It rained Indians and pieces of Indians for ten minutes steady. And you know a lot of redskins could rain down in ten minutes. What's left of them will never trouble Jesse James again. Eh, boys?"
The gang nodded their approval of the sentiment.
"That's what I was coming to," answered Jesse. "First of all I want to corral a side of beef or a leg of mutton. It has been so long since I had anything to eat that my pipes have nearly growed shut. How is your appetite, Harry?"
"Me?" replied the homely one. "I could eat a sheep, from hoof to wool. I've drawed my belt so tight already that the end of it trips me up every time I try to walk. I'--I'm ready to be one of them fellers--what do they call them fellers that eat men?"