bet--ter--had!"

But he liked best to invade our play-room and "work magic" on our
dolls. Mother had set aside one apartment in our large log house for
a play-room, and here each one of our doll families dwelt in peace and
harmony, when Will wasn't around. But there was tragedy whenever he
came near. He would scalp the mother dolls, and tie their babies to the
bedposts, and would storm into their pasteboard-box houses at night,
after we had fixed them all in order, and put the families to standing
on their heads. He was a dreadful tease. It was in this play-room that
the germ of his Wild West took life. He formed us into a regular little
company--Turk and the baby, too--and would start us in marching order
for the woods. He made us stick horses and wooden tomahawks, spears, and
horsehair strings, so that we could be cowboys, Indians, bullwhackers,
and cavalrymen. All the scenes of his first freighting trip were
acted out in the woods of Salt Creek Valley. We had stages, robbers,
"hold-ups," and most ferocious Indian battles.

Will was always the "principal scalper," however, and we had few of our
feathers left after he was on the warpath. We were so little we couldn't
reach his feathers. He always wore two long shiny ones, which had been
the special pride of our black rooster, and when he threw a piece of an
old blanket gotten from the Leavenworth barracks around his shoulders,
we considered him a very fine general indeed.

All of us were obedient to the letter on "show days," and scarcely ever
said "Now, stop," or "I'll tell mother on you!" But during one of these
exciting performances Will came to a short stop.

"I believe I'll run a show when I get to be a man," said he.