Wild Bill's Last Trail, by Ned 
Buntline 
 
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Title: Wild Bill's Last Trail 
Author: Ned Buntline 
Release Date: April 16, 2007 [EBook #21113] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILD 
BILL'S LAST TRAIL *** 
 
Produced by Richard Halsey 
 
Wild Bill's Last Trail. 
By NED BUNTLINE, Author of "Harry Bluff, The Reefer," "Navigator 
Ned," etc.
CHAPTER I. 
THE AVENGER. 
"Bill! Wild Bill! Is this you, or your ghost? What, in great Creation's 
name, are you doing here?" 
"Gettin' toward sunset, old pard--gettin' toward sunset, before I pass in 
my checks!" 
The first speaker was an old scout and plainsman, Sam Chichester by 
name, and he spoke to a passenger who had just left the 
west-ward-bound express train at Laramie, on the U.P.R.R. 
That passenger was none other than J. B. Hickok, or "Wild Bill," one of 
the most noted shots, and certainly the most desperate man of his age 
and day west of the Mississippi River. 
"What do you mean, Bill, when you talk of passing in your checks? 
You're in the very prime of life, man, and---" 
"Hush! Talk low! There are listening ears everywhere, Sam! I don't 
know why, but there is a chill at my heart, and I know my time has 
about run out. I've been on East with Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack, 
trying to show people what our plains life is. But I wasn't at home there. 
There were crowds on crowds that came to see us, and I couldn't stir on 
the streets of their big cities without having an army at my heels, and I 
got sick of it. But that wasn't all. There was a woman that fell in love 
with me, and made up her mind to marry me. I told her that I was no 
sort of a man to tie to--that I was likely to be wiped out any day 'twixt 
sunrise and sunset, for I had more enemies than a candidate for 
President; but she wouldn't listen to sense, and so--we buckled! Thank 
Heaven, I've coaxed her to stay East with friends while I've come out 
here; for, Sam, she'll be a widow inside of six weeks!" 
"Bill, you've been hitting benzine heavy of late haven't you? 
"No; I never drank lighter in my life than I have for a year past. But
there's a shadow cold as ice on my soul! I've never felt right since I 
pulled on that red-haired Texan at Abilene, in Kansas. You remember, 
for you was there. It was kill or get killed, you know, and when I let 
him have his ticket for a six-foot lot of ground he gave one shriek--it 
rings in my ears yet. He spoke but one word--'Sister!' Yet that word has 
never left my ears, sleeping or waking, from that time to this. I had a 
sister once myself, Sam, and I loved her a thousand times more than I 
did life. In fact I never loved life after I lost her. And I can't tell you all 
about her--I'd choke if I tried. It is enough that she died, and the cause 
of her death died soon after, and I wasn't far away when--when he went 
under. But that isn't here nor there, Sam--let's go and warm up. Where 
do you hang out?" 
"I'm in camp close by. I'm heading a party that is bound in for the 
Black Hills. Captain Jack Crawford is along. You know him. And 
California Joe, too." 
"Good! It is the first streak of luck I've had in a year. I'll join your 
crowd, Sam, if you'll let me. Captain Jack and Joe are as good friends 
as I ever had--always barring one." 
"And that is?" 
"My old six-shooter here. Truth-Teller I call it. It never speaks without 
saying something. But come, old boy--I see a sign ahead. I must take in 
a little benzine to wash the car-dust out of my throat." 
Bill pointed to a saloon near at hand, and the two old scouts and 
companions moved toward it. 
As they did so, a young man, roughly dressed, with a face fair and 
smooth, though shadowed as if by exposure to sun and and wind, 
stepped from behind a shade tree, where he had stood while these two 
talked, listening with breathless interest to every word. His hair, a deep, 
rich auburn, hung in curling masses clear to his shoulders, and his blue 
eyes seemed    
    
		
	
	
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