Buffalo Bill and the Overland Trail / Being the story of how boy and man worked hard and played hard to blaze the white trail, by wagon train, stage coach and pony express, across the great plains and the mountains beyond, that the American republic might expand and flourish

by Edwin L. Sabin

“Will you?” she exclaimed, brightening. “Now that’s mighty kind of you.”

“I’ll take care of you, ma,” comforted the boy, quickly. “I’ll take care of you an’ pap, too, as soon as we get where there’s some work.”

“I believe you will, sonny,” spoke Jim admiringly. “You’ll make the fur fly. We’ll tell ’em you’re coming, so they’ll leave space for you.”

And Billy added as good measure:

“When you get to the diggin’s, if you don’t see me you ask for Billy Cody. I’ll fix you out.”

“Aw, crickity!” gasped the boy, staring. “Say—are you Billy Cody, the Boy Scout?”

“I’m Billy Cody, all right,” responded Billy, now somewhat confused, while Hi and Jim and Mr. Baxter laughed loudly.

“We know you. We read all about you in the paper,” proclaimed the boy, excited. “That time you fought the Injuns. Say—will you shake hands with me?”

“Aw,” stammered Billy, trying to hide behind the wagon, “forget about that, will you? I’m nobody.”

“Terrible modest all of a sudden, isn’t he!” chuckled Jim, as he and Hi and the Reverend finished harnessing the mules again.