"I know what you think," retorted he quickly. "You think you know what'll get away with Jack's money. In your minds you see my money going for whiskey and me never drawing a sober breath till I'm down to bed-rock. But I'm going to fool you. I've been doing some thinking for myself--and that's a rare thing for Jack, you know--an' I says to myself, says I, 'Jacky, boy, this is the time of your life to do some good for your poor kindred in ould Ireland.' I haven't heard from any of them for several years and don't know who of them is living an' who is dead. But I've made up my mind that when we get into Leavenworth not a drop will I touch, and soon as I crook me fingers on that money I'll hit the trail for New York, take passage for the ould dart, and if I can find any of my family living I'll bring them back with me to this glorious land of liberty, where one man's as good as another and a blamed sight better if he behaves himself decently. And mind you, now, I'm not going to touch a drop of liquor till I get back from the ould country. And then, of course, I'll re-enlist, for soldiering's my best hold." Before he was done speaking each of us had extended a hand to give him a hearty hand shake of encouragement in his good resolution. "My boy," said old Tom, with tears in his eyes, as he took one of Jack's hands in both his, "you don't know how glad it makes me to hear you talk that way. If you'll only stick to it, I'd give the half of my possessions to help you carry out that resolution." "Same here, Jack," I added. "Well, I'm going to show you that I can and will do it." After a little pause Tom inquired: "But now about yourself, Peck. What do you expect to do with yourself?" "Well, I've made up my mind that I'll not re-enlist," I replied. "I've had soldiering enough, I think; but I suppose I'll have to enter Uncle Sam's service in some shape or other. I noticed when we were in Leavenworth before that the quartermaster's department at the fort is fitting out a good many trains of new six-mule teams; and, as that is something to my notion, I think I'll try for a job as wagon-master." When we reached Council Grove, then the gateway of the border settlements, we felt as if we were really getting back into "God's country." As we passed the place where we had had the controversy with the jayhawkers, we stopped a little while to have a chat with the old storekeeper and told him the disposition we had made of the black horse. He had never heard of any owner of the horse and did not think it probable that Wild Bill would ever be disturbed in his possession of him. He had heard nothing more concerning the jayhawkers after they were gobbled up by the soldiers and taken to the military prison at Fort Leavenworth. When we reached Leavenworth City, we again put up at Ned Welch's boarding-house, on Seneca Street, and our team at Jim Brown's stable.