67

BUFFALO BILL

AT HIS OLD LEAVENWORTH HOME.

Shaking Hands With Scores of His Old
Friends- Some Startling Events in His
Career Recounted- His Performance
Last Night.

Hon. W. F. Cody, better known as "Buffalo
Bill," was met at the Continental hotel
yesterday afternoon by a TIMES reporter,
and a most pleasant conversation ensued.

Mr. Cody was dressed in a blue-tinged
suit, with a cut-away coat, and wore his
old favorite wide-brimmed, cow-boy hat.
He, without any display, wore a heavy
gold neck-chain, from which was suspended
near his left vest pocket a huge gold
horse-shoe, set with diamonds. His scarfpin
is a solid old gold representation of a
buffalo-head, with diamonds for eyes. His
hair is long, hanging down to his shoulders,
and is brown, almost dark enought to
be called black.

He looks every inch the bold scout who
was so vividly pictured by Ned Buntline,
but is more of a gentleman than that well-
known writer gave him credit for; yet he
is the same in nearly every respect in appearance
as in his boyhood, daring, reckless,
whole-souled and generous. He
clings to his old-style hat, and when among
the boys snaps his fingers and says "what
are you going to have?" with the full-
heartedness for which he was always noted.
His purse, which is well filled, is as
free as his rifle was when he was a scout,
suffering the privations of cold and wet on
the plains, when the snapping of a twig
or the creaking of a bough made slumber
uneasy, and caused a blanket to be cautiously
raised to look for a murderous Indian.

The conversation, in substance, was as
follows, including interruptions, some of
which were of a pleasant nature:

"When did you first arrive in Leavenworth,
Mr. Cody?"

"In 1854, I accompanied my father and s
ome officers from Fort Leavenworth in a
wolf hunt, over the ground where the city
now stands. I was a bit of boy then. We 'raised' the wolf in what is now...

(Right Column)
... landmarks were talked of on the old hills
where Mr. Cody, as a boy had herded cattle
the old post-office site on Delaware
street and social affairs, here the Scout
with considerable pride, spoke of a visit to
his Nebraska ranch by his nephew Willie
Goodman, who lives at Valley Falls. "yes"
he said "he came to my ranch and staid
quite a while, I gave him a gun and a
coulple of ponies and started him out.
(Willie shook hands with him an hour afterward.)

Resuming his conversation with the reporter
he said:

"In 1876, I was imployed as a scout, by
Gens. Crook and Terry. I was only thirty-five
miles from Gen. Custer's command
when he was killed. On the 17th day
of July, 1876.

I HAD A DUEL

with Yellow-Hand, on War-Bonnet creek,
in Dakota, and killed him. In the spring
of 1877, I went into the cattle business, with
Maj. Frank North, chief of the Pawnee
scouts, and located at North Platte, Nebraska.
I am now in the stock and real estate
business. I like raising cattle and
horses betrer than the stage, and
will turn my attention to that branch of
business after the next two years."

"You have made money in the theatrical
business, have you not?"

"Yes, I have cleared $40,000 a year for
five years. I made $56,000 one year."

"Have you much of a stock farm?"

"The firm of Cody & North, has 6,800
head of cattle and 400 head of horses. Our
ranche is sixty-five miles northwest of
North Platte, Nebraska, on Dismal river.
Maj. North attends to the ranch
while I am absent in the show
business. My family lives at North Platte.
I shall play only in the larger cities in the
future, and will not go further west than
Topeka this trip. I have had a brilliant
offer.

TO GO TO EUROPE,

but I contend that a man can make more
money in America, than he can
any place in the world. I don't
play on the stage or do
anothing else for the fun of the thing;
I work to make mone."

NOTES
Mr. Robert Armstrong, who lives in the
city, recalled an incident, yesterday afternoon,
where he was with a party on Prairie-
Dog creek, in 1869, and being on the
lookout for Indians, came very near firing
into a party of soldiers who had Buffalo
Bill in company. Just as the rifles were
raised to fire the soldiers waved their white
handkerchiefs and saved themselves, after
which they joined Armstrong's party.

Buffalo Bill buried his favorite horse
"Buckskin Joe," at his ranche in Nebraska,
not long ago. The horse was twenty-five
years old and had been in many an Indian
fight.