Buffalo Bill's Boy Bugler; Or, The Last of the Indian RingIngraham, Prentiss
General
Buffalo Bill's Boy Bugler; Or, The Last of the Indian Ring
Ingraham, Prentiss
Buffalo Bill, 1846-1917 -- Fiction; Dime novels
“You know better than that, Price. As near as I can find out you are
salting away more plunder than any other along the line. We give you
credit for organizing county officials and courts, but you ought to
manage to let the reds have enough to keep them fairly contented or do
something to pacify them. The devil is to pay now. Sitting Bull has
declined to sign a treaty giving up any more lands, and he refuses to
agree to remain upon a reservation.”
“Let the government teach him a lesson, then.”
“That is a good sight easier said than done, Price; and, then, again,
what is to become of your occupation and mine if we have a war with the
Sioux? The Bad Lands are swarming with Sioux warriors now. Sitting Bull
is the most powerful Indian in America, and in case of a government
movement against them there will be a good deal of blood shed, and the
country will demand an investigation of the cause.”
“How do you know so much about Sitting Bull and his warriors in the Bad
Lands? We haven’t heard anything about it here.”
“That is just the trouble, Price. You fellows out here don’t attempt
to keep track of things. Small bands of reds are making their way down
the Gallatin Valley every day, and because they don’t come yelling and
shooting into town you think they are a thousand miles away.
“For months the department has been attempting to soothe the feelings
of the Sioux, while Cody, Custer, Crook, Gibbon, and Terry have been
making a study of the situation. Their reports are filed in Washington,
and matters are looking serious. Cody is in this territory, somewhere,
now.”
“He won’t be long.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I have my trap all set, and Mr. Buffalo Bill will soon come up
among the missing.”
“Now, look here, Price. I believe you are determined to wreck the whole
business. You speak of putting Buffalo Bill out of the way as if it
were as easy as the killing of a yellow dog. Why don’t you let up and
keep quiet while he is in this part of the country, instead of getting
in deeper by trying to beat a better man than you at his own game?”
“Well, Sawyer, I like your nerve. You talk to me as if I was a boy of
about fifteen. Do you suppose I am playing any ordinary hand of cards
against Cody? If you do you are mistaken; but I said he is soon to drop
out of the counting, and he is.”
“Very well, Price; when I get back at the capital, I’ll tell them where
you went to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that when you spring your trap you will find you are the one
who is in it, and Buffalo Bill will be looking for other easy game.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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