It is a well-known fact that in the dry, pure atmosphere of the plains, flesh wounds heal with astonishing rapidity. It may have been, in Tom's case, that the satisfactory closing up of our business affairs had something to do with it, but about this time Jack and I were astonished as well as pleased to see Tom come limping into camp and report for duty. Bill had sent word by Tom that he, Captain Saunders, and Lieutenant Wilson were coming down to take supper with us, and just after retreat all three rode into camp accompanied by Found. "Now, boys," said Bill as he dismounted and tied Black Prince to the wagon, "you haven't told me yet how much you're going to tax me for this horse, and if you'll let me know I'll go right up to Weisselbaum's and get the greenbacks for you, for he said he'd let me have them." "We've talked the matter over, Bill," said Tom, speaking for our party, "an' have concluded that, seeing as how you lost your best horse in our service, and in consideration of the good service you've done us all the way along, an' old-time friendship and so forth, that it'll be no more'n right for us to make you a present of Black Prince, subject only to the condition that if the rightful owner of the horse ever turns up and claims him you'll then have to make terms with him; but that's a very remote possibility." "Do you mean it, Tom? Is that so, boys?" asked the scout in confused astonishment at such good luck as he looked around from one to another of us. "Am I to have that fine horse without paying you a dollar?" "That's what! That's the job we've put up on you," we replied. "Well, now, boys--" stammered Bill in a diffident sort of way as he seemed to be trying to study up a nice little speech of thanks. "Aw, give us a rest!" interrupted old Tom in his rough and good-humored effort to help Bill out of his embarrassment. "The horse is yours, and I don't want to hear anything more out of you about it." Knowing that Bill was an expert shot with rifle or pistol, it had occurred to me, since he had expressed a desire to buy our field-glass, to exact of him a sample of his marksmanship as his signature to a promissory note for the price of the glass; and accordingly I had selected the ace of diamonds from our old, much-soiled deck of cards and had written across the face of it: [Illustration: $20. On demand, after date, I promise to pay to R. M. Peck the sum of Twenty Dollars, ($20.), for value received. his Wild [diamond] Bill. mark. FORT LARNED, KAN. Mar. 17, 1862.] "But, Bill," I put in after Tom had cut him off short about the horse, "I ain't going to let you off so cheap on that field-glass deal. You'll have to give me your note for the twenty dollars." "Well, I guess I can borrow that much from Cap Saunders or Mr. Wilson, here, and pay you the cash," he replied.