“A line of Indians.”
“No. You just get down yourself. The men in the coach will be watching for you.”
They stood looking at the battered old stage-coach after Twink had left them, and a man with a coat on his arm told them that one day, in England, when the show was over there, a king and four princes had ridden on it, Buffalo Bill himself driving.
This nearly took McConnell’s breath away.
“Do you know where the king sat?” asked McConnell.
“I dunno,” said the man. “I guess up beside Buffalo Bill.”
“Where the princes sat ought to be good enough for us,” laughed Allan. “Come,” he added, “let us go back to the show,” and they hurried around to the grand stand in time to see the Mexican throwing the lasso.
“I don’t believe we thanked Mr. Twink,” said Allan.
“Won’t we see him again?” asked McConnell.