By this time we were all heading for Jim Brown's livery stable. There we found the wagon in the back lot, and the team, a good pair of mules, in the barn. When we had looked over the well appointed rig and made a rough estimate of its probable value we began to fear that the owners would ask more than we could pay for it. Wild Bill was absent.
I asked: "What do you think of the outfit, Tom?"
"It's one of the best camp equipments I ever saw," replied Tom, "but I am afraid it's too rich for our blood. Those mules and harness alone would be cheap at two hundred and fifty dollars. The wagon is easy worth another hundred dollars, and there is no telling what the camp outfit cost. They must have let Bill fit things up to his own notion, and Bill never did know the value of money. It may be, as Bill said, that they don't expect much for it and they'll let us have it cheap as dirt. We'd better be quick, if we can, before some one else snaps it up."
"Here comes Wild Bill himself!" exclaimed Jack; and sure enough, that first of frontier scouts, in beaded buckskins and with his long, tawny hair hanging down his back, came striding through the barn to meet us. Bill confirmed what Jack had told us, and said that as these young men seemed to have more money than they knew what to do with he had rigged up as good an outfit as he knew how. He continued: "The wagons, mules, harness, camp outfit, and some grub left over is for sale, but their riding horses are not for sale. They are to be shipped on the cars back to New York. They've got a couple of pretty fair broncos which they got here at starting, and they'll sell you them, or throw them in for good measure. What will you give me for the whole lot?"
Tom asked if he was willing to let us unload the wagon and look at its contents, to which Bill assented. We found it an extraordinarily complete camp outfit, with many duplicate parts for the wagon, a Sibley tent, a sheet-iron cook-stove, a mess-chest, and a complete mess-kit, or cooking outfit. There was a large amount of provisions left over. The wagon and the animals were good and the broncos had saddles and bridles.
While we were unpacking the wagon Bill told us something about the trip, which, from the point of view of the hunters, had been very successful, though commonplace enough as Bill saw it. When the examination was completed Bill asked: "What do you think of the outfit, Tom, and what will you give me for the whole caboodle?"
"It's a good rig, and no mistake," replied Tom with a seemingly hopeless sigh, "but, Bill, I am afraid we haven't money enough to buy it. The outfit was all right for your purposes, but we'll have to buy a lot more things and must have some money left after buying a team and camp outfit. To buy your outfit would clean us out."
"Well," said Bill, "make a bid of what you can afford to give, not what it's worth. They do not expect to get what it's worth."
"It sounds like a mighty small price, Bill, and I'm ashamed to make you the offer," said Tom hesitatingly, "but two hundred dollars is as much as we can afford to give and still buy our other truck. Would your men consider such a bid as that?"
"Boys, that does seem like giving the outfit away, and until I see my men I won't say whether they'll take it or not, but I'll talk for you a little and help you out all I can. They told me to sell the rig for whatever I could get, and I'll tell them that two hundred dollars is the best offer I have had—it's the only one; if they say it's a go the outfit is yours."