The champagne with which my Omaha friends had filled my stateroom I gave to the boys at the station. I did not have to urge them to accept it. They laughed a good deal at my stovepipe hat and evening dress, but because of the champagne they let me off without as much guying as I would otherwise have received.
Jumping on our horses, we struck out on the trail of the soldiers. It was about one o'clock when we overtook them. As we neared the rear guard, I pulled off my overcoat and strapped it behind my saddle. I also put my hair up under my stovepipe hat and galloped past the command, to all appearances fresh from a New York ballroom.
"Look at the dude! Look at the dude!" they shouted as I rode among them. Paying no attention to them, I galloped up and overtook General Reynolds. Saluting him, I said:
"General, I have come to report for duty."
"Who in thunder are you?" he demanded, looking at me without a sign of recognition in his eye.
"Why, general," I said, "I am to be your guide on this expedition."
He looked at me a second time, and a grin spread over his face.
"Can it be possible that you are Cody?" he asked. I told him that I was Cody.
"Let down your hair," he commanded. I took off my hat, and my hair fell over my shoulders. A loud yell went up from both officers and enlisted men, as the word went up and down the line that the dude they had been bedeviling was none other than Buffalo Bill.
Texas Jack and the scouts who were ahead had heard the noise and came galloping back.