With much regret, Buffalo Bill and young Mainwaring bade adieu to them, wondering whether, among the curious chances of life, they would ever see them again.
The young rancher had almost made up his mind that he would go to California later on, seek out the party, and renew his acquaintance with them.
He had not dared to speak to May of his love, after knowing her only for such a brief time, but it was none the less ardent.
Buffalo Bill, noticing how despondent he seemed after the wagon train had lumbered off and disappeared from view over the prairie, invited him to ride with him next day to Fort McPherson.
“We are going to have a big hunt,” the king of the scouts said. “The supply of food for the soldiers of the fort is running low, and we are going out to see if we can fall in with a herd of buffalo. There is a chance of some fine sport. I am to take a band of scouts with me, as well as some Pawnee friendlies.”
Jack Mainwaring’s eyes shone with delight. He was a sportsman through and through, and he knew very well that Buffalo Bill could show him better hunting than any other man in the West.
“Nothing would please me better than to come,” he said.
“And there is another thing that may be an inducement to you,” Buffalo Bill added slyly: “If Mr. Doyle has taken my advice in the matter of getting an escort of troopers we ought to strike Fort McPherson about the time he gets there.
“He has the start of us, but we shall travel faster on horseback than the wagon train. Besides, the general at the fort is a hospitable fellow, and he will be sure to detain them as his guests for a day or two. Visitors of the type of the Doyles are not common at a lonely military post on the edge of the great plains, and when they do arrive they are not allowed to go in a hurry, if it can be helped.”
At this idea Jack Mainwaring was more delighted than ever. He might have a chance of seeing May again, and he was consumed with impatience to start on the journey to the fort.