s plan. He
probably considered that so stupid a blunderer as I deserved no better
fate than to be used as a decoy. I think so myself. I have nothing
like the extravagant opinion of my own merits that I had when I first
launched out into the sea of human conflict.

At all events, Buffalo Bill was very kind to me all the way out to the
plains; he protected me as if I had been a timid young lady--took
charge of my tickets, escorted me to and fro from the station
eating-houses, almost cut up my food and eating it for me; and if a
woman did but glance in my direction, he scowled ferociously. Under
such patronage I got through without any accident.

It was the last day of our ride by rail. In the car which we helped to
occupy there was not a single female, and I was happy. A sense of
repose--of safety--stole over me, which even the knowledge that on the
morrow we were to take the war-path could not overcome.

"Oh," sighed I, "no women! This _is_ bliss!"

In about five minutes after I had made this remark the train drew up
at one of those little stations that mark off the road, and the scout
got off a minute to see a man. Fatal minute! In that brief sixty
seconds of time a female made her appearance in the car door, looked
all along the line, and, either because the seat beside me was the
only vacant one, or because she liked my looks, she came, and, without
so much as "by your leave," plumped down by me.

"This seat is engaged," I mildly remonstrated, growing as usual very
red.

She looked around at me, saw me blush, and began to titter.

"No, young man," said she, "I ain't engaged, but I told ma I bet I
would be before I got to Californy."

By this time my protector had returned; but, seeing a woman, and a
young woman at that, in his seat, he coolly ignored my imploring looks
and passed out into the next car.

"I'm going on the platform to smoke," he whispered.

"Be _you_ engaged?" continued my new companion.

"No, miss," I stammered.

"Ain't that lucky?" she giggled. "Who knows but what we may make up
our minds to hitch horses afore we get to Californy!" and she eyed me
all over without a bit of bashfulness, and seemed to admire me. My
goodness! this was worse than Alvira Slimmens!

"But I'm only going a few hours farther, and I'm not a marrying man,
and I'm bound for the Indian country," I murmured.

She remained silent a few moments, and I stole a side-glance at her.
She was a sharp-looking girl; her hai