Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Best Bet; Or, A Sure Thing Well Won онлайн

73 страница из 82

Ben Tabor had been appointed chief herdsman, and, with his men, was very busy getting the cattle together. Buffalo Bill was to accompany the men, intending, when the train struck the South Platte, to branch off to Julesburg, from which place he was to continue his journey alone.

A short while before the train pulled out from its encampment, the stage from the East rolled up to the tavern, and the driver, Bob Briggs, sung out in his cheery way:

“On time, landlord, fer ther western-bound train?”

“Yes, just in time, Bob; you have driven hard, and are ahead of time.”

“Yas, always clever to obleege calicos and preachers, fer I hes some bound West. ’Light, parson, fer our journey hes ended right heur, an’ ef yer were a ginslinger, I’d ax yer in ter take a drink, out o’ thanks fer yer pra’ers fer me, an’ ther sweet voice o’ yer darty, though I hasn’t seen her face.”

Then Bob Briggs sprang nimbly from his box and assisted down an elderly gentleman, with smooth face, long white hair, gold spectacles, a suit of clerical black, and high hat with a band of deepest mourning surrounding it.