r another
party had been repulsed, Mrs. Cody asked me if I had brought her and
the baby out on the Plains to be killed.

"This is the kind of a life I lead every day and get fat on it," I
said. But she did not seem to think it especially congenial.

Everybody turned out to greet us when we arrived in Rome. Even the
gambling-hall houses and the dance-halls closed in our honor. The next
day we moved into our little house. That night there was a veritable
fusillade of revolver shots outside the window.

"What is that?" asked Mrs. Cody.

"Just a serenade," I said.

"Are yon firing blank cartridges?"

"No. If it became known that revolvers were loaded with blank
cartridges around here we would soon lose some of our most valued
citizens. Everybody in town, from the police judge to dishwashers,
carries a pistol."

"Why?"

"To keep law and order."

That puzzled my wife. She said that in St. Louis policemen kept law and
order, and wanted to know why we didn't have them to do it out here. I
informed her that a policeman would not last very long in a town like
this, which was perfectly true.

On my return from a hunting trip a few days later I met a man who had
come into town on the stage-coach, and whom Mrs. Cody had seen looking
over the town site from every possible angle. He told me he thought I
had selected a good town site--and I agreed with him. He asked me to go
for a ride around the surrounding country with him the next day. I told
him I was going on a buffalo hunt. He had never killed a buffalo, he
said. He wanted to get a fine head to take back with him, and would be
grateful if I would take him with me. I promised to see that he got a
nice head if he came along, and early the next morning rode down to his
hotel. He was dressed in a smart hunting costume and had his rifle. We
started for the plains, my wagons following to gather up the meat we
should kill.

As we rode out I explained to him how I hunted. "I kill as many buffalo
as I want," I said. "This I call a 'run.' The wagons come along
afterward and the butchers cut the meat and load it." When I went out
on my "run" I told him where to shoot to kill. But when my work was
done I met him coming back crestfallen. He had failed to get his
buffalo down, although he had shot him three times.

"Come along with me," I said. "I see another herd over there. I am
going to change saddles with you and let you ride the best buffalo
horse on the Plains."

He wa