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“What can you do?”

“He’ll tackle anything.”

“He’s the boy who left his shirt to the buffalo, is he?”

“Yes, sir. We all liked him with the wagons.”

“Well, I can’t send him out this time. We don’t need him with a train.” Mr. Russell spoke directly to Davy. “Did you ever herd?”

“Not much, sir. But I think I could.”

“Well, you go on down to Leavenworth and see Mr. Majors. He’s hiring the herding end of the business. If he wants to take you on, all right.” And Mr. Russell turned away. He was a man of short speech.

“Much obliged, Mr. Russell,” answered the two boys.

“Come on, Dave,” bade Billy, making for the two ponies.

They mounted, to go on to Leavenworth City. This was in plain sight from the high land where the fort was located. It was nestled prettily in a wooded basin beside the river two miles southeast. Fort Leavenworth was on the trail between it and Salt Creek Valley, and the trail continued to the Missouri at the town itself.

A lively place Leavenworth proved to be. It contained about five thousand people, living there, and a lot more who were simply pausing until they had outfitted for the trail westward. The streets were crowded with teams and wagons and people; and the river was dotted with rowboats, barges and several steamboats.