Wild Bill's Last Trail by Ned Buntline (good inspirational books .TXT) 📖

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.

CHAPTER IV.
"GIVE UP THAT HORSE, OR DIE!"

Leaving the livery-stable, the young Texan went directly to the German restaurant, and asked for Willie Pond.

He was shown up to the room, recently engaged by the traveler, and found him engaged in cleaning a pair of fine, silver mounted Remington revolvers.

"Getting ready, I see," said the Texan. "I have bought you a horse–the best in this whole section; I gave three hundred dollars. There is your change."

"Keep the two hundred to buy stores with for our trip," said Pond.

"No need of it I've laid in all the stores we need. You can buy yourself a couple of blankets and an India-rubber for wet weather. A couple of tin cans of pepper and salt is all that I lay in when I'm going to rough it on the plains. The man that can't kill all the meat he needs isn't fit to go there."

"Maybe you're right. The less we are burdened the better for our horses. Are we likely to meet Indians on the route?"

"None that will hurt me–or you, when you're in my company. The Sioux know me and will do me no harm."

"That is good. The Indians were my only dread."

"I've a favor to ask."

"It is granted before you ask it–what is it?"

"I want to break your horse to the saddle before you try it. You are not so used to the saddle, I reckon, as I am. I will take a ride at sunset, and bring him around here for you to look at."

"That is right. I am only thankful to have you ride him first, though you may find me a better rider than you think!"

"Perhaps. But he looks wild, and I like to tame wild uns. I'll have him here between sundown and dark."

"All right. I told you I'd see to getting arms. I had these revolvers, and cartridges for them, but I want a light repeating rifle. Get me a good one, with as much ammunition as you think I'll need!"

"All right. I'll get a now model Winchester. They rattle out lead faster than any other tool I ever carried."

The Texan now left. He had not spoken of Wild Bill's desire to possess that horse, because he had an idea that Mr. Willie Pond would weaken, and give up the horse, rather than risk bloodshed for its possession. And perhaps he had another idea–a mysterious one, which we do not care to expose at this stage of the story.

This young Texan hastened from the German restaurant to a small, neat house in the outskirts of the town. Knocking in a very peculiar manner, he was admitted at once by a tall and strikingly beautiful young woman, whom he addressed as if well acquainted with her.

"I'm here, Addie, and I've seen him."

"You found him all right, when you told him who sent you, did you not?" asked the lady, leading the way to a sitting-room in the rear of the cottage.

"Yes, ready to do anything for one you recommend."

"Poor Bill! A braver man and a truer friend never lived. He loves me, and I fear it will be his ruin, for he will too often come within the reach of those who would destroy him, if they only knew where and how to reach him. Persecution and cruelty placed him on the bloody path he has had to follow, and now–now he is an outlaw, beyond all chance for mercy, should he ever be taken."

"He never will be taken, guarded as he is."

"You saw his guards, then?"

"Yes, forty or fifty of them, and I would rather have them as friends than foes. He wants you to ride out with me to meet him when I go next with some information that he needs."

"When will that be?" asked the lady.

"In the early morning, or perhaps to-night, if nothing happens to me between now and sunset to make it unnecessary!"

"Between now and sunset? That is within two hours. Do you anticipate any danger?"

"Not much. I have a little task before me. I have a horse to break, and a man known as Will Bill to tame."

"Wild Bill!–the dead-shot, the desperado, who has killed at least one man for every year of his life?"

"Yes, the same. But ask me no more questions now. After I have tamed him I will report–or, if he has settled me, there will be no need of it."

"Do not run this risk."

"It must be done. He has, in a manner, defied me, and I accept his defiance!"

"Surely he does not know—"

"No, he knows nothing of what you would say if I did not interrupt you. Nor do I intend he shall at present. It is enough that you know it, and will care for both my body and my good name, should I fail."

"You know I will. But you must not fall."

"I do not intend to. I think I can crush him by a look and a word. I shall try, at least. If all goes well, I will be here by eight to-night to arrange for our visit."

"I hope you will come, and safely."

"I will, Addie. Until the cup of vengeance is full. Heaven will surely spare me. But I must go. I have no time to spare."

The young Texan glanced at the chambers of a handsome six-shooter which he carried, to see if it was ready for use, replaced it in his belt, and then, with a cheerful smile, left the room and house.

Hastening to the stable, he selected a saddle, lengthened the stirrups to suit himself, took a stout bridle from among a lot hanging in the store-room, and accompanied by the stable-keeper, approached the newly purchased Black Hawk horse.

"I may as well have him ready," he said; "for if Wild Bill is to be here at sunset, that time is close at hand. You say the horse has not been ridden?"

"No," said the stable-keeper. "My regular breaker was not here when I bought him. Black Joe tried to mount him, but the horse scared him."

"Well, I'll soon see what he is made of, if I can get saddle and bridle on him," said the Texan.

They now together approached the large box stall in which the stallion was kept. The horse, almost perfect in symmetry, black as night, with a fierce, wild look, turned to front them as they approached the barred entrance.

"Steady, boy–steady!" cried the Texan, as he sprang lightly over the bars, and at once laid his hand on the arched neck of the horse.

To the wonder of the stableman, the horse, instead of rearing back or plunging at the intruder, turned his eyes upon him, and with a kind of tremor in his frame, seemed to wait to see what his visitor meant.

"So! Steady, Black Hawk! steady, old boy!" continued the Texan, kindly passing his hand over the horse's neck and down his face.

The horse uttered a low neigh, and seemed by his looks pleased with his attentions.

"That beats me!" cried the stable-keeper. "Old Joe had to lasso him and draw him down to a ringbolt before he could rub him off."

"Hand me the saddle and bridle," said the Texan, still continuing to "pet" the beautiful and spirited animal.

In a few seconds, without difficulty, the same kind and skillful hands had the horse both saddled and bridled.

The Texan now led the horse out on the street, where quite a crowd seemed to be gathering, perhaps drawn there by some rumor of a fight in embryo.

And as he glanced up the street the Texan saw Wild Bill himself, with his six-shooters in his belt, come striding along, with California Joe and a dozen more at his heels.

In a second, the Texan vaulted upon the back of the horse, which made one wild leap that would have unseated most riders, and then reared on its hind legs as if it would fall back and crush its would-be master.

At this instant, Wild Bill rushing forward, pistol in hand, shouted:

"Give up that horse, or die!"

That Horse

CHAPTER V.
A SQUARE BACK-DOWN.

The Texan paid no heed to the words of the desperado, but bending forward on the horse with his full weight, drove his spurs deeply into its