“[Why—hello, Billy!] Gee whiz! [Is that you?]”
[“WHY—HELLO, BILLY! IS THAT YOU?”]
“Hello, Dave,” answered Billy Cody, muddy and dripping, but calmly shaking Dave’s hand. “I guess it must be. Where are Hi and Jim?” And he turned quickly to scan the river. “Good. They’re coming. I knew they could swim. They can swim better than I, so I reckoned I’d get ashore as soon as I could. What are you doing here and where are you bound for?”
“I’m bull whacking for Russell, Majors & Waddell from Leavenworth to Denver,” informed Davy, proudly. “Where are you bound for?”
“Back to the river.” And by “the river” Davy knew that Billy meant the Missouri. “We didn’t have any luck in the diggin’s, so we thought we’d float home down the Platte to the Missouri and down the Missouri to Leavenworth. Well, we got this far, anyhow.”
“Jiminy crickets!” shouted Hi, now plashing in. “If here isn’t Dave waiting for us! Did you come all the way from Leavenworth to meet us, Dave?”
And there was a great shaking of hands.
“I dunno what the dickens happened to us out there,” volunteered Jim, gazing at the river suspiciously. “One moment we were just sailing along and next moment we were swimming. No more sailoring for me; I’d rather walk with a bull team. Here we’ve lost our whole outfit and we’re going home from the diggin’s ‘busted’ flat.”
“We didn’t have much to lose; that’s one comfort,” said Billy. “Think how bad we’d be feeling if we’d struck it rich up in the mountains and every ounce was now at the bottom of the Platte! Huh! We’ve had our fun, anyhow. Who’s your wagon boss, Dave?”