Come one, come all! If you can ride, or shoot, or rope, come to Cinnabar on the Seventh instant to audition for the BUFFALO BILL CODY WILD WEST EXHIBITION. Cowboys who are selected will become members of the show. Honest wages will be paid, and you will travel to St. Louis, Chicago, New York, London, and Paris. Buffalo Bill will be present to judge and make the selections.
“And you say that MacCallister went to Cinnabar with Buffalo Bill?” Ebersole asked after he finished reading the article.
“Yeah, only they didn’t go right there,” Jake said. “They took a stage coach from here to DeMaris Springs. Buffalo Bill, MacCallister, and that writer fella that’s travelin’ with ’em.”
“Ingraham,” Lucy said. “The writer is named Prentiss Ingraham.”
“Yeah, Ingraham. Anyhow, the word I heard is that Buffalo Bill is going to build himself a town there. Well not right where DeMaris Springs is, but real close,” Jake said.
“And like as not, it’ll be the end of DeMaris Springs,” Ken said.
“That’s pro’bly right. And get this. He’s goin’ to name it after himself.”
“Yeah, well, if I had as much money as Buffalo Bill Cody, I’d like as not build me a town too. And I’d name it after myself too. I’d call it Hickenlooper,” one of the other saloon patrons said.
The others in the saloon laughed.
“Ha. Hickenlooper. Now that would be a name, wouldn’t it? Folks, welcome to Hickenlooper,” Ken said.
Finishing their drinks, Ebersole and the others left the saloon and walked down Central Street to the livery stable.
A man came out of the stable to meet them. He was a big man, with stubble on his chin, and irregular, yellowed, broken and missing teeth.
“Yeah, what do you want?” he asked.
“Do you have horses for sale?”
“Horses for sale? Yeah, we got horses.”
“Good. We’ll need five,” Ebersole said.
“Five? I don’t know as I can sell you five, that would purt’ nigh clean us out. You’ll have to wait till Mr. Giles comes back.”
“Is your name Slayton?” Ebersole asked.
“Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I’ve heard you are pretty good with a gun, Slayton.”
“I ain’t bad,” Slayton said.
“I’ve also heard that you don’t care much for a man named Falcon MacCallister.”
The smile turned to a frown. “Are you trying to be funny, Mister? ’Cause I don’t like it when folks try to fun me.”
“No,” Ebersole said. “I’m not trying to be funny at all. In fact, I will tell you why we want these horses. We are on MacCallister’s trail, and we plan to kill him.”
Slayton’s scowl turned to an expression of surprise and curiosity. “You plan to kill him?” he asked.
“We do,” Ebersole answered. “MacCallister and Buffalo Bill Cody.”
“And that writer son of a bitch who is traveling with them,” Hawkins added.
“Why?” Slayton asked. “Why are you going to kill him?”
“Does it make any difference why? As I understand it, you may have a bone to pick him as well. I would think you would welcome the idea that we’re goin’ to kill him.”
Slayton drummed his fingers on the top rail of a stall and was silent for a long moment.
“Any of you fellas got an extry gun?”
“Why do you ask?” Ebersole asked.
“’Cause my gun and holster is still in the saloon, and I ain’t goin’ back in there to get it and be made a fool of.”
“There’s a gunshop here,” Dewey said. “I seen it when we got off the boat.”
“I ain’t goin’ to go buy one, either, for the same reason. But I’ll make you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Ebersole wanted to know.
“If one of you fellers will go buy a gun for me, I’ll give you these five horses for free.”
“What? How are you going to do that?” Hawkins asked.
“’Cause Giles has gone down to Laramie and by the time he gets back, we and his horses be long gone.”
“We?” Ebersole asked.
“Yeah,” Slayton said. “That’s part of the deal. I’m goin’ with you.”
Lieutenant Colonel Whitehead glanced up at Benteen when Benteen came into his office.
“You wanted to see me, Colonel?” Benteen asked.
