manager of the tents evidently thought the outlook a forlorn one. I
shared his opinion, and was, in fancy, already the possessor of a fine
fur cloak.

"Colonel, shall we stretch the full canvas?" asked the tentman.

"Every inch of it," was the prompt response. "We want to show North
Platte the capacity of the 'Wild West,' at any rate."

As we started for the grounds Will was evidently uncertain over the
outcome, in spite of his previous boast of the reception North Platte
would give him. "We'll have a big tent and plenty of room to spare in
it," he observed.

But as we drove to the grounds we soon began to see indications of a
coming crowd. The people were pouring in from all directions; the very
atmosphere seemed populated; as the dust was nearly a foot deep on the
roads, the moving populace made the air almost too thick for breathing.
It was during the time of the county fair, and managers of the Union
Pacific road announced that excursion trains would be run from every
town and hamlet, the officials and their families coming up from Omaha
on a special car. Where the crowds came from it was impossible to say.
It looked as if a feat of magic had been performed, and that the stones
were turned into men, or, perchance, that, as in olden tales, they came
up out of the earth.

Accustomed though he is to the success of the show, Will was dumfounded
by this attendance. As the crowds poured in I became alarmed about my
wager. I visited the ticket-seller and asked how the matter stood.

"It's pretty close," he answered. "Duluth seems to be dwindling away
before the mightiness of the Great American Desert."

This section of the country, which was a wilderness only a few years
ago, assembled over ten thousand people to attend a performance of the
"Wild West."

Omaha, where the opening performance of this exhibition was given,
honored Will last year by setting apart one day as "Cody Day." August
31st was devoted to his reception, and a large and enthusiastic crowd
gathered to do the Nebraska pioneer honor. The parade reached the
fair-grounds at eleven o'clock, where it was fittingly received by one
hundred and fifty mounted Indians from the encampment. A large square
space had been reserved for the reception of the party in front of the
Sherman gate. As it filed through, great applause was sent up by the
waiting multitude, and the noise became deafening when my brother made
his appearance on a magnificent chestnut horse,