The stranger laughed.
“You seem to be pretty well informed,” he remarked. “I haven’t told a soul about my business here, but you reel it right off, first clatter out of the box.”
“Steer wide of the Forty Thieves, pilgrim,” said Wild Bill earnestly. “That proposition is a trap for the unwary. I know. It cost me some trouble to find out what I’m telling you, but you take my word for it, and let the property alone.”
“Who are you?” inquired the stranger, with sudden interest.
“My name’s Hickok, William Hickok.”
The stranger hitched restlessly in his chair.
“The man I’ve heard so much about under the sobriquet of Wild Bill?” he asked.
“Tally! That’s the time you got your bean on the right number.”
The stranger fell silent for a space.
“My name is Smith,” said he finally; “J. Algernon Smith, of Chicago, and what you tell me is mighty surprising.” He drew his chair closer. “Would you mind telling me just what you have found out?”