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“When will we get to Leavenworth, do you think?”

“In about twenty-five days. We’re travelling light, and I guess we can make twenty miles a day. We’ve got a lot of government men with us, from Fort Laramie, and the Injuns will think twice before they interfere, you bet. We’re too many for ’em. I reckon those Cheyennes didn’t expect to see another bull train following that first one.”

“No. They thought you were left behind and were trying to catch up. So they waited to starve you out. That’s what fooled ’em.”

“It sure did,” nodded Billy, gravely. “Say, there’s another fine man with this outfit. He’s the one who dressed Woods’ shoulder. His name’s Jim Hickok, but everybody calls him ‘Wild Bill.’ Isn’t he a good-looker?”

“That’s right,” agreed Davy.

“Well, he isn’t just looks, either,” asserted Billy. “He’s all there. He’s been a mighty good friend of mine. Because I was a boy some of the men thought they could impose on me. A big fellow slapped me off a bull-yoke, when I was sitting and didn’t jump the instant he bade me. I was so mad I threw a pot of hot coffee in his face; and I reckon he’d have killed me if Wild Bill hadn’t knocked him cold. When he came to he wanted to fight; but Wild Bill told him if he or anybody else ever bullied ‘little Billy’ (that’s what they call me) they’d get such a pounding that they wouldn’t be well for a month of Sundays. Nobody wants trouble with Wild Bill. He can handle any man in the outfit; but he doesn’t fight unless he has to. He’s quiet, and means to mind his own business.”