Buffalo Bill Wanted! Read Free Page A

was after.”
    â€œThanks to us—the Raven League,” Dooley put in.
    Wiggins couldn’t tell if the frontiersman believed them or not. Before anyone could say any more, a short, dark-haired man with a carefully trimmed full beard appeared in front of the tent.
    â€œColonel, you’re on in three minutes!”
    â€œSorry, Nate,” Cody apologized, “I got caught up jawing with my visitors. Kids, this is Nate Salsbury. He’s my partner in the show.”
    The children all greeted the man, who gave them a distracted nod while still looking at Cody. “Get your coat on and let’s go! Don’t you wear your six-gun?”
    Colonel Cody glanced at the gun belt hanging from a hook on one of the tent poles. “Here it—” He stopped. The holster was empty. “Now, where the devil is that Colt?”
    Nate joined him in a quick search, but the pistol wasn’t anywhere in the tent.
    â€œA six-gun!” Jenny said. “That sounds dangerous.”
    Cody shook his head. “It’s only loaded with blanks. Still . . .” He frowned.
    â€œMaybe one of the boys took it for a cleaning,” Nate suggested. “You said the action was a little sluggish.”
    â€œMaybe,” Cody said cautiously. “But I’d think they would have said something.”
    Salsbury glanced at his watch. “You’re supposed to be mounted up by now. Just grab a gun on the way.”
    An Indian brave walked into the tent. He wore leggings with brightly embroidered borders, a long blue shirt that almost reached his knees, and a rawhide vest decorated with quills and purple beads. A colorful painted design covered his face, and he wore a feathered headdress. Wiggins almost didn’t recognize him, but the man’s dark, brooding eyes were unmistakable. “That’s the same Indian who stopped the buffalo from running wild,” he whispered to his friends.
    â€œI’ve come to get Pahaska,” the Indian explained. “The riders are waiting.”
    â€œWe know that, Silent Eagle,” Nate replied with annoyance. “Who made you stage manager?”
    The Indian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond.
    â€œNow, boys,” Colonel Cody said as he slipped on his gun belt. “There’s no time for this. We’ve got a show to do.” He pointed at the pistol tucked in Silent Eagle’s belt. “Can I borrow that?”
    Without a word, Silent Eagle passed over the gun, turned, and walked out of the tent.
    â€œWhat about them?” Nate glanced at the kids.
    â€œWhy, these members of the Raven League are my guests,” Cody informed him. “You find them someplace to watch the show while I go mount up.”
    Nate Salsbury led Wiggins, Owens, Jennie, and Dooley up a narrow aisle at the far side of the grandstand. This was a huge roofed structure forming a crescent halfway around the performance arena.
    Staring around at the standing-room-only crowd, Wiggins wondered if half of London had come to see the show. He turned to the arena, which reminded him of a racetrack—a large dirt oval with grass in the center. Beyond rose the other side of the artificial hill with additional landscaping—trees and bushes—flanked by painted scenery showing Western mountains and a big sky.
    A man climbed onto a rostrum at the side of the track. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” The man must have had lungs of leather to be heard over the crowd noise, even with a megaphone in his hand. “Buffalo Bill and Nate Salsbury proudly present America’s National Entertainment, the one and only, genuine and authentic, unique and original . . . Wild West!”
    The audience cheered politely at first, then with more enthusiasm as Indians, Mexican riders, and American cowboys rode past in a grand procession. Colonel Cody came riding out on a large white stallion. The performers wheeled into a line, suddenly surging toward the