“That’s Buck Bomer,” explained Billy, as he and Davy rode on. “He’s the wagon boss I’m going out with. Now we’ll find Mr. Russell.” They had no difficulty in passing the guard stationed beside the road where it entered the edge of the post. Billy seemed to be a familiar figure here. He led the way to a large building that looked like a warehouse, where several freight wagons were standing and where soldiers and civilians were trudging about, as if loading freight. At the end of the platform Billy slipped off his horse, and tied him; Dave did likewise. “Come on,” bade Billy. “There’s Mr. Russell now. That sandy little man talking with the officer. We’ll hail him when we get the chance.” They lingered a few minutes, while Billy edged closer, waiting to be recognized. Davy followed him about anxiously. Presently Mr. Russell caught sight of Billy, and smiled and nodded. The officer turned away, and Billy sprang forward to seize the opportunity. “How are you, Billy,” greeted Mr. Russell. “What can I do for you?” “I’ve brought my friend Dave Scott over, Mr. Russell,” informed Billy. “He’s the boy I spoke about. He’d like a job, if you can give it to him.” Mr. Russell eyed Dave up and down. A small man was Mr. Russell. He had a freckled complexion, a rather dried-up appearance, and an abrupt manner; and he was as keen as tacks. He did not seem to be a man who could handle rough teamsters; but evidently he could. Davy tried to stand his gaze, and not to be embarrassed. “What can you do?” “He’ll tackle anything.” “He’s the boy who left his shirt to the buffalo, is he?” “Yes, sir. We all liked him with the wagons.” “Well, I can’t send him out this time. We don’t need him with a train.” Mr. Russell spoke directly to Davy. “Did you ever herd?” “Not much, sir. But I think I could.” “Well, you go on down to Leavenworth and see Mr. Majors. He’s hiring the herding end of the business. If he wants to take you on, all right.” And Mr. Russell turned away. He was a man of short speech. “Much obliged, Mr. Russell,” answered the two boys. “Come on, Dave,” bade Billy, making for the two ponies. They mounted, to go on to Leavenworth City. This was in plain sight from the high land where the fort was located. It was nestled prettily in a wooded basin beside the river two miles southeast. Fort Leavenworth was on the trail between it and Salt Creek Valley, and the trail continued to the Missouri at the town itself. A lively place Leavenworth proved to be. It contained about five thousand people, living there, and a lot more who were simply pausing until they had outfitted for the trail westward. The streets were crowded with teams and wagons and people; and the river was dotted with rowboats, barges and several steamboats. Billy Cody hustled right along, without giving Dave much time to look about. Evidently he was bound for the company office. In fact, suddenly he said so.