of valuable souvenirs.

At that time Will had very little thought of crossing the seas, but he
did decide to visit the East, whither he had more than once journeyed in
fancy. The Indians were comparatively quiet, and he readily obtained a
leave of absence.

The first stopping-place was Chicago, where he was entertained by
General Sheridan; thence he went to New York, to be kindly received by
James Gordon Bennett, Leonard and Lawrence Jerome, J. G. Heckscher, and
others, who, it will be recalled, were members of the hunting-party
of the preceding year. Ned Buntline also rendered his sojourn in
the metropolis pleasant in many ways. The author had carried out his
intention of writing a story of Western life with Scout Cody for the
hero, and the result, having been dramatized, was doing a flourishing
business at one of the great city's theaters. Will made one of a party
that attended a performance of the play one evening, and it was shortly
whispered about the house that "Buffalo Bill" himself was in the
audience. It is customary to call for the author of a play, and no doubt
the author of this play had been summoned before the footlights in due
course, but on this night the audience demanded the hero. To respond to
the call was an ordeal for which Will was unprepared; but there was no
getting out of it, and he faced a storm of applause. The manager of the
performance, enterprising like all of his profession, offered Will
five hundred dollars a week to remain in New York and play the part of
"Buffalo Bill," but the offer was declined with thanks.

During his stay in the city Will was made the guest of honor at sundry
luncheons and dinners given by his wealthy entertainers. He found
considerable trouble in keeping his appointments at first, but soon
caught on to the to him unreasonable hours at which New Yorkers dined,
supped, and breakfasted. The sense of his social obligations lay so
heavily on his mind that he resolved to balance accounts with a dinner
at which he should be the host. An inventory of cash on hand discovered
the sum of fifty dollars that might be devoted to playing Lucullus.
Surely that would more than pay for all that ten or a dozen men could
eat at one meal. "However," he said to himself, "I don't care if it
takes the whole fifty. It's all in a lifetime, anyway."

In all confidence he hied him to Delmonico's, at which famous restaurant
he had incurred a large share of his social obligations. He ordere