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Davy shook his head.

“No.”

“This is a Russell, Majors & Waddell outfit,” proceeded Billy. “They’re the big freighters out of Leavenworth across the plains and down to Santa Fe. Gee, they haul a lot of stuff! We’re travelling empty, back from Fort Laramie to Leavenworth. This is only half the train; there’s another section on ahead of us. Lew and George and I were riding on to catch up with it, when those Injuns corralled us. If Lew hadn’t been so smart, they’d have had our hair, too. We wouldn’t have stood any show at all. But those mules did the business. And I had a dream that helped. Last night I dreamed my old dog Turk came and woke me; and when I did wake I saw the Injuns sneaking up on us. Then we all woke, and drove ’em back. I’m going to thank Turk for that. I don’t know how he found me. This isn’t the regular trail; but Lew thought he’d make a short cut.”

“Is he the captain?” asked Davy.

“He’s wagon boss; he’s boss of the whole train, and he’s a dandy. I reckon he’s the best wagon boss on the plains. George Woods—the man who was wounded—he’s assistant boss. He’s plucky, I tell you. That arrow didn’t phase him at all. Lew bound a big chunk of tobacco on it, and George went on fighting. Do you know what they call this outfit. It’s a bull outfit, and those drivers are bull-whackers. Jiminy, but they can throw those whips some!”