Persimmon Bill turned to the Texan, who had drawn his horse away a little, so as not to intrude on the conversation between the lovers.
"I have the news you asked for," said Jack. "The party, all told, who will start at nine or ten in the morning, and camp twenty miles out to-morrow, number twenty-nine men, all well armed, the most of them with repeating rifles and six-shooters. Half of them are old scouts, the rest are miners, gamblers, and a couple of them are traders. They have fifty animals, saddle and pack, and carry no wagons. The mules are loaded pretty heavy, at least them that belong to the traders, and are well worth capture."
"All right, And there is one of the party you don't want hurt until he is in your hands?"
"Yes, that man is Wild Bill. I want him in my power so that I may see him die slowly, surely, awfully!"
"There is another man in that party, Bill, who mustn't be hurt. He did me a kindness once, down at Cheyenne–saved me from insult and wrong. His name is Crawford–Captain Jack, they call him!"
"Yes, I know him. No harm shall befall him, if I can help it."
"Thank you, Bill; you needn't be jealous of him, for it is only what he did that makes me ask a favor for him!"
"I know it, Addie."
"No woman on earth can make me jealous of you. I've too much confidence in your truth and love. But you'll not attack the party anywhere near here?"
"No, not till they are far beyond all the military posts. I want no pursuit when I do my work. Our animals are in good order for the war-path now, and I want to keep them so. I'm drilling my braves at every chance, so as to fit them to meet such men as Crook, Custer, and Carr. All they want is drill and discipline to make them the best soldiers in the world, and they're coming into it finely."