“Maybe your folks won’t want me.” This made Billy almost mad. “They will, too. What do you talk that way for? You ought to see my mother. I’ve got the best mother that ever lived. She’ll be glad to see anybody that I bring home, and so will my sisters, and Turk. You come along. The trail goes right past the place, and we’ll quit there, and not wait to reach Leavenworth. I’ll get paid off first.” There was no resisting Billy, and Davy promised. Yes, evidently Leavenworth and the end of that long Overland Trail were near. The talk in the train was largely of Fort Leavenworth and Leavenworth City, where the train would be broken and reorganized for another trip, and the men would have a short rest and see the sights, if they chose. New farms were being passed, and the beginnings of new settlements; and the number of emigrant outfits was much increased. The greetings all referred to the farther West――Kansas, Utah, and California were on every tongue. Over the trail hung a constant dust of travel, and the air was vibrant with the spirit of pioneers pushing their way into a new country. These men, women and children, travelling with team and wagon, were brave people. Nothing, not even the Indians, was keeping them back. They intended to settle somewhere and establish homes again. The sight sometimes made Davy sick at heart, because he, too, had been travelling with one of these household wagons; but the Indians had “wiped it out.” Well, he was in good hands now. Billy Cody would see him through. “We’ll strike the Salt Creek Valley to-morrow morning,” announced Billy. “Hurrah! I’ll get my pay order to-night, so we can cut away to-morrow without any waiting.” The morning was yet young when Billy pointed ahead. “When we get over this hill we’ll see where I live, Red. It’s yonder, on the other side.” The trail was ascending a long hill. From the top Billy waved his hat. “There’s the Salt Creek Valley. I can see the house, too. That’s it, down below. Goodby, everybody. Come on, Red.” And with a whoop away raced Billy down the hill. As he rode he whistled shrill. “Watch for Turk,” he cried to Red, galloping behind. And presently he cried again: “There he comes! I knew he would!” Sure enough, from the house, before and below, near the trail, out had darted a dog, to stand a moment, listening and peering――then, head up and ears pricked, to line himself at full speed for Billy. On he scoured (what a big fellow he was when he drew near), while Billy whistled and shouted and laughed and praised. When they met, Billy flung himself from his saddle for a moment, and he and the big dog wrestled in sheer delight. “Isn’t he a dandy?” called Billy to Red. “Smartest old fellow in Kansas. He saved my sisters’ lives once from a panther. I’d rather have him than a man any time.” They rode on, with Turk gambolling beside them. He was a brindled boar hound, looking like a Great Dane.