Wild Bills Last Trail | Page 4

"Will you let me go with you?"
"You don't look much like roughing it, and the trip is not only hard, but
it may be dangerous. The redskins are beginning to act wolfish on the
plains."
"I think I can stand as much hardship as you. You are light and
slender."
"But tough as an old buffalo bull, for all that. I've been brought up in
the saddle, with rifle and lasso in hand. I'm used to wind and weather,
sunshine and storm--they're all alike to me."
"And Indians?"
"Yes--to Comanche, Kiowa, and Apache. But these Cheyennes and
Sioux are a tougher breed, they tell me. I'll soon learn them too, I
reckon. There's one thing sure, I don't go in no crowd of twenty or
thirty, with wagons or pack mules along to tempt the cusses with, while
they make the travel slow. You want either a big crowd or a very small
one, if you travel in an Indian country.
"You have not answered my question yet. Will you let me go through
to the Black Hills with you?"

"Why don't you go with the other party? They'll take you, I'll bet."
"I do not want to go where Wild Bill will see me. He may think his
wife has sent me as a spy on his movements and actions."
"His wife! Is he married? It must be something new."
"It is. He was married only a short time ago to a woman who almost
worships him. She did all she could to keep him from going out into his
old life again, but she could not."
"You can go with me!" said the other, abruptly, after a keen and
searching look in the traveler's face.
"What is your name?"
"Willie Pond."
"Rather a deep Pond, if I know what water is," said the auburn-haired
man, to himself, and then he asked, in a louder tone, "have you horse
and arms?"
"No; I just came on the train from the East. But there is money--buy me
a good horse, saddle, and bridle. I'll see to getting arms."
And Mr. Willie Pond handed the other a five-hundred dollar treasury
note.
"You don't ask my name, and you trust me with money as if you knew I
was honest."
"You'll tell me your name when you feel like it!" was the rejoinder. "As
to your honesty, if I think you are safe to travel with, you're safe to trust
my money with!"
"You're right. Your money is safe. As to my name, call me Jack. It is
short, if it isn't sweet. Some time I'll tell you the rest of it."
"All right, Jack. Take your own time. And now get all ready to start

either ahead or just behind the other party."
"We'll not go ahead. Where will you stay to-night?"
"Wherever you think best."
"All right. This old Dutchman keeps rooms for lodgers. You'd better
stay here, and if you don't want Bill to see you, keep pretty close in
doors. He'll be out in the Black Hillers' camp, or in the saloons where
they sell benzine and run faro banks. Bill is death on cards."
"So I've heard," said Mr. Pond, with a sigh.
Jack now went out, and Pond called the Dutch landlord to him and
engaged a room.
CHAPTER II.
PERSIMMON BILL.
As soon as the auburn-haired man who called himself Jack had left the
German restaurant, he went to a livery-stable near by, called for his
own horse, which was kept there, and the instant it was saddled he
mounted, and at a gallop rode westward from the town.
He did not draw rein for full an hour, and then he had covered
somewhere between eight and ten miles of ground, following no course
or trail, but riding in a course as straight as the flight of an arrow.
He halted then in a small ravine, nearly hidden by a growth of thick
brush, and gave a peculiar whistle. Thrice had this sounded, when a
man came cautiously out of the ravine, or rather out of its mouth. He
was tall, slender, yet seemed to possess the bone and muscle of a giant.
His eyes were jet black, fierce and flashing, and his face had a stern,
almost classic beauty of feature, which would have made him a model
in the ancient age of sculpture. He carried a repeating rifle, two
revolvers, and a knife in his belt. His dress was buckskin, from head to
foot.

"You are Persimmon Bill?" said Jack, in a tone of inquiry. "Yes. Who
are you, and how came you by the signal that called me out?"
"A woman in town gave it to me, knowing she could trust me."
"Was her first name Addie?"
"Her last name was Neidic."
"All right.