All the garrison at the fort wondered what was going on when they saw Buffalo Bill ride away from the post at the head of fourteen of the best scouts, most daring Indian fighters, and wildest riders on the frontier.
Men and horses had been picked for a purpose, it could be plainly seen. They had extra animals along, and half a dozen pack mules, well loaded with a camp outfit, provisions, and ammunition.
Those that saw them waiting for the start beheld Texas Jack, the noted ranger scout from the Lone Star State, and next in rank to Buffalo Bill at the post.
“Where are you going, Jack?” asked an officer of cavalry, passing the squad of wild riders.
“Don’t know, sir. Got orders to get ready for a long trail, and am prepared for a fight, foot race, or siege, sir.”
“I have not heard of any news that causes Colonel Carr to send out Cody and his picked saddle sharps,” continued the officer.
“Nor have I, sir.”
“Have none of the men an idea?”
“Not one, sir, and we are waiting for Cody, now, for he has gone to the colonel for last orders.”
As Texas Jack spoke, Buffalo Bill appeared, coming from the colonel’s quarters. He was splendidly mounted and armed.