Chapter 3

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 at my expense."

California Joe and most of the others joined in the invitation, and Captain Jack took a cigar rather than "lift a shingle from the roof," as he said.

"Where are you bound, Bill?" asked Captain Jack, as Bill placed his empty glass on the counter, and turned around.

"To the Black Hills with your crowd--that is if I live to get there."

"Live! You haven't any thought of dying, have you? I never saw you look better."

"Then I'll make a healthy-looking corpse, Jack. For I tell you my time is nearly up; I've felt it in my bones this six months. I've seen ghosts in my dreams, and felt as if they were around me when I was awake. It's no use, Jack, when a chap's time comes he has got to go."

"Nonsense, Bill; don't think of anything like that. A long life and a merry one--that's my motto. We'll go out to the Black Hills, dig out our fortunes, and then get out of the wilderness to enjoy life."

"Boy, I've never known the happiness outside of the wilderness that I have in it. What you kill there is what was made for killing--the food we need. What one kills among civilization is only too apt to be of his own kind."

And Bill shuddered as if he thought of the many he had sent into untimely graves.

"Stuff, Bill! You're half crazed by your dramatic trip. You've acted so much, that reality comes strange. Let's go out to camp and have a talk about what is ahead of us."

"Not till I buy a horse, Jack. I want a good horse under me once more; I've ridden on cars and steamboats till my legs ache for a change."

"There's a sale's stable close by. Let's go and see what stock is there," said Sam Chichester.

"Agreed!" cried all hands, and soon Bill and his friends were at the stable, looking at some dozen or more horses which were for sale.

"There's the beauty I want," said Wild Bill, pointing to a black horse, full sixteen hands high, and evidently a thoroughbred. "Name your price, and he is my meat!"

"That horse isn't for sale now. He was spoken for an hour ago, or maybe less by a cash customer of mine--a red-haired chap from Texas."

_"Red-haired_ chap from Texas!" muttered Bill, "Red-haired cusses from Texas are always crossin' my trail. That chap from Abilene was a Texas cattle-man, with hair as red as fire. Where is your cash customer, Mr. Liveryman?"

"Gone out riding somewhere," replied the stable-keeper.

"When he comes back, tell him Wild Bill wants that horse, and I reckon he'll let Wild Bill buy him, if he knows when he is well off! I wouldn't give two cusses and an amen for all the rest of the horses in your stable; I want _him!_"

"I'll tell Jack," said the stableman; "but I don't think it will make much odds with him. He has as good as bought the horse, for he offered me the money on my price, but I couldn't change his five hundred-dollar treasury note. It'll take more than a name to scare him. He always goes fully armed."

"You tell him what I said, and that I'm a-coming here at sunset for that horse," said Bill, and he strode away, followed by his crowd.

An hour later the auburn-haired man from Texas reined in his own horse, a fiery mustang from his own native plains, in front of the stable.

Though the horse was all afoam with sweat, showing that it had been ridden far and fast; it did not pant or show a sign of weariness. It was of a stock which will run from rise of sun to its going down, and yet plunge forward in the chill of the coming night.

"You want the Black Hawk horse you spoke for this morning, don't you?" asked the stableman, as Jack dismounted.

"Of course I do. I've got the change; there is his price. Three hundred dollars you said?"

"Yes; but there's been a chap here looking at that horse who told me to tell you his name, and that he intended to take that horse. I told him a man had bought it, but he said: 'Tell him Wild Bill wants it, and that Wild Bill will come at sunset to take it.'"

"He will?"

It was hissed rather than spoken, while the young Texan's face grew white as snow, his blue eyes darkening till they seemed almost black.

"He will! Let him try it! A sudden death is too good for the blood-stained wretch! But if he will force it on, why let it come. The horse is bought: let him come at sunset if he dares!"

And the young man handed the stable-keeper three one hundred-dollar greenback notes.