There was a stranger to Davy in camp. He had arrived in a light buggy drawn by a strong, spirited team of black horses, and was chatting with Charley. His name proved to be B. F. Ficklin――“Ben” Ficklin. He shook hands with Billy, and Billy introduced Dave. “Mr. Ficklin, this is my friend Dave Scott, youngest bull whacker on the plains.” “You want to watch out or he’ll catch up with you, Billy,” bantered Mr. Ficklin. “I shouldn’t wonder,” answered Billy, carelessly. “But I’ve got a head start over him. I’m a prairie sailor sure now, and navigation on the Platte is closed!” Not only in sailing on the Platte, but in many other feats Dave never did catch up with Billy Cody. Mr. Ficklin was the general superintendent of the Russell, Majors & Waddell freighting and staging business. He bore the news that the company had taken over the stage outfit of Hockaday & Liggett, which ran twice a month from St. Joseph on the Missouri to Salt Lake on the Platte River Overland Route, and were going to combine the Leavenworth & Pike’s Peak Express with it. He himself was on his way from Denver, back down the trail to inspect the condition of the stations from the Platte crossing to the Missouri. “We’re going to make this stage line a hummer, boys,” he informed. “Hockaday & Liggett have been running two times a month on a schedule of twenty-one days to Salt Lake; no stations, and same team without change for several hundreds of miles at a stretch. The company are putting in stations every ten and fifteen miles all along the Overland route from the river to Salt Lake, and stocking them with provisions and fodder. We’re buying the best Kentucky mules that we can find and ordering more Concord coaches; and we’re going to put a coach through every day in the year, from the Missouri to Salt Lake, on a ten-day schedule, by the Salt Lake Overland Trail to the crossing here, then north to Laramie and over the South Pass. A stage will be sent down to Denver, too.” Mr. Ficklin evidently was an enthusiast. Davy had heard of him――a hard worker and a booster for the company that he loved. “What’s ever become of the scheme of yours and that California senator, Gwin, to put a fast mail service through, horseback, from St. Louis to San Francisco, by the Overland route, at $500 for each round trip,” asked Joel of Mr. Ficklin. “Nothing yet. Senator Gwin was right for it after our talk on the stage from California five years ago, and he introduced a bill in Congress; but the bill died. The California people are howling, though, for something better than news three weeks to six weeks old from the East. And mark my words,” continued Mr. Ficklin, earnestly, “that’s what will happen next――a pony express from the Missouri to the coast that will beat the stage.” “Do you think they’ll stretch a line of relays clear across for two thousand miles and keep it going day and night passing the mail along?” demanded Billy, his eyes sparkling at the fancy.