“Yes, and, Kate, you are to hold the stakes; here’s my dust.” “And here is mine, girl.” “Let me fully understand the bet,” she asked quietly, and it was explained to her. “Thank you; I hope you will win, Mr. Cody; you know where to find me, and this gentleman can look me up should he be the winner; good night!” And taking the bag of precious metal, Panther Kate left the saloon. Scarcely had the man departed from the saloon, when, like a returning memory, there came to Buffalo Bill the knowledge that he had _seen this man before_--that in truth he was none other than _Kent King_ himself, so disguised as almost to defy detection. CHAPTER VI. OLD NEGOTIATE’S WARNING. The next day, when Old Negotiate entered the hotel--which had been named the Cody Hotel in honor of Buffalo Bill--he found there a motley crowd. There were tradesmen of the town, miners from the camps, cowboys from the surrounding ranches, sports, idlers, and a few strangers who had just arrived in Border City. They were miners, they said, from up the country farther, and having dug out a rich harvest of golden metal, they had come to Border City to spend a little of it in having a good time. There were five of them present, and they were evidently having a “good time,” according to their ideas, for they were drinking heavily. One of their number, dressed in corduroy, the same man who had made the bet with Buffalo Bill the day before, was “standing treat” continually for the thirsty souls in Border City, whose thirst seemed to increase after every drink they took. “Come, Old Negotiate, let me interdoose yer ter my pertickler friend, Cap’n Corduroy, o’ Calamity City, up ther mountains,” cried a tipsy idler, whose friendship with the “captain” had begun but half an hour before and increased according to the treats he had received at his hands. Old Negotiate accepted the outstretched hand of the man in corduroys, who then presented him to his four pards from Calamity City. Captain Corduroy, it was evident, wanted to win the favor of the denizens of Border City, and he sought the hearts of the masses by filling their stomachs with liquor at his own expense. “I understand this is called the Cody Hotel, in honor of that desperado, Buffalo Bill?” said Captain Corduroy, addressing Old Negotiate. The latter turned and laid his hand upon the captain’s shoulders and said, with solemnity: “Stranger, this house were named in honor o’ Buffalo Bill; but don’t you whistle out no such word as desperado whar that clean-grit white man are concerned, or thar’ll be trouble.” “You don’t mean thet he will cause me trouble?” “I does mean that, and more.” “What more?” “Thar be friends o’ his heur as won’t hear a word said agin’ him.” “Bah! I have heard that he is hated here by all who know him.” “You hes heerd a darned lie, ef yer mother told it to yer.” “What?”