I see she has trusted you. What do you want?"
"Help in a matter of revenge."
"Good! You can have it. How much help is wanted?"
"I want one man taken from a party, alive, when he gets beyond
civilized help, so that I can see him tortured. I want him to die by
inches."
"How large is his party, and where are they now?"
"The party numbers between twenty and thirty; they are in camp in the
edge of Laramie, and will start for the Black Hills in a few days."
"If all the party are wiped out but the one you want, will it matter to
you?"
"No; they are his friends, and as such I hate them!"
"All right. Get me a list of their numbers and names, how armed, what
animals and stores they have, every fact, so I can be ready. They will
never get more than half way to the Hills, and the one you want shall be
delivered, bound into your hands. All this, and more, will I do for her
who sent you here!"
"You love her?"
"She loves me! I'm not one to waste much breath on talking love. My
Ogallalla Sioux warriors know me as the soldier-killer. Be cautious
when you go back, and give no hint to any one but Addie Neidic that
there is a living being in Dead Man's Hollow, for so this ravine is called
in there."
"Do not fear. I am safe, for I counsel with no one. I knew Addie Neidic
before I came here, met her by accident, revealed myself and wants,
and she sent me to you."
"It is right. Go back, and be cautious to give the signal if you seek me,
or you might lose your scalp before you saw me."
"My scalp?"
"Yes; my guards are vigilant and rough."
"Your guards?"
Persimmon Bill laughed at the look of wonder in the face of his visitor,
and with his hand to his mouth, gave a shrill, warbling cry.
In a second this mouth of the ravine was fairly blocked with armed and
painted warriors--Sioux, of the Ogallalla tribe. There were not less than
fifty of them.
"You see my guards--red devils, who will do my bidding at all times,
and take a scalp on their own account every chance they get," said
Persimmon Bill.
Then he took an eagle feather, with its tip dipped in crimson, from the
coronet of the chief, and handed it, in the presence of all the Indians, to
Jack.
"Keep thus, and when out on the plains, wear it in your hat, where it
can be seen, and the Sioux will ever pass you unharmed, and you can
safely come and go among them. Now go back, get the list and all the
news you can, and bring it here as soon as you can. Tell Addie to ride
out with you when you come next."
Jack placed the feather in a safe place inside his vest, bowed his head,
and wheeling his horse, turned toward the town. Before he had ridden a
hundred yards he looked back. Persimmon Bill had vanished, not an
Indian was in sight, and no one unacquainted with their vicinity could
have seen a sign to show that such dangerous beings were near.
No smoke rose above the trees, no horses were feeding around, nothing
to break the apparent solitude of the scene.
"And that was Persimmon Bill?" muttered the auburn-haired rider, as
he galloped back. "So handsome, it does not seem as if he could be the
murderer they call him. And yet, if all is true, he has slain tens, where
Wild Bill has killed one. No matter, he will be useful to me. That is all
I care for now."
CHAPTER III.
A WARNING.
When Wild Bill and Sam Chichester entered the saloon alluded to in
our first chapter, they were hailed by several jovial-looking men, one of
whom Wild Bill warmly responded to as California Joe, while he
grasped the hand of another fine-looking young man whom he called
Captain Jack.
"Come, Crawford," said he, addressing the last named, "let's wet up!
I'm dry as an empty powder-horn!"
"No benzine for me, Bill," replied Crawford, or "Captain Jack." "I've
not touched a drop of the poison in six months."
"What? Quit drinking, Jack? Is the world coming to an end?"
"I suppose it will sometime. But that has nothing to do with my
drinking. I promised old Cale Durg to quit, and I've done it. And I
never took a better trail in my life. I'm fresh as a daisy, strong as a
full-grown elk, and happy as an antelope on a wide range."
"All right, Jack. But I must drink. Come, boys--all that will--come up
and wet down
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