EXCERPT from Bluster’s Last Stand

By Preston Lewis

On Renewing Acquaintance with Buffalo Bill

Drawing up my horse twenty paces in front of Cody, I watched as he lowered his hand from his eyes.  A grin broke open between his mustache and beard.  He strode toward me.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cody said.  “If my sight doesn’t deceive me, it’s Leadeye Lomax, the worst buffalo shooter on the plains.”

“Your eyes are as sharp as ever, Bill,” I said as I dismounted.  “How the hell you been?”

“Making money and making do,” he answered.  “Much as I hate to admit it, I owe my good fortune to you.  If you hadn’t nicknamed me Buffalo Bill, I’d probably still be scouting for low wages rather than getting paid for leading expeditions for wealthy men and even performing my exploits on stage for paying customers.”

“Maybe I need a cut of your take if I’m the cause of your good fortune.”

Cody laughed, then walked up, grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously before grasping me in a bear hug.

“You don’t need a cut, Lomax.  I returned the favor by knighting you Leadeye Lomax.”

“The name’s yet to catch on but I’ll give you a quarter interest in the proceeds in exchange for a quarter share of the profits from your name,” I offered.

“No deal, but I’ll introduce you to folks that can make your name as famous as mine.”

When I escaped Cody’s bear hug, I turned around and motioned for Wolfe and Dreban to dismount.  The fear had drained from their faces, though I hoped it hadn’t reached the seat of their britches.  Dreban and Wolfe stepped beside me, very careful with their movement.  

“Fellows,” I said, “I’d like you to meet William F. Cody, better known as Buffalo Bill.”

With a dramatic gesture he must have learned from theater work, he yanked off his hat and bowed like a performer after a standing ovation.  That was Cody.  He craved attention and acclaim as well as the women that always seemed to be with him when his wife wasn’t.

As he straightened up and replaced his hat, I said, “Bill, these are my partners, Douglas Wolfe and Brian Dreban.  They’re telegraphers.”

Cody stepped to them, grabbed their hands and shook them vigorously.  “You boys won’t find many telegraph wires in these parts, smoke signals more likely.”

“You’re the Buffalo Bill?” Dreban stammered.

“Absolutely, friend.  I can’t afford to hire an imposter.”

“And you know, Lomax?” Wolfe wanted to know.

“Known him for years,” Cody replied.  “We’ve hunted together, fought Indians together, eaten from the same pot of beans and even shared the same woman on occasion.”

“We didn’t believe him,” Dreban said.

Cody slapped me on the shoulder.  “I’ve never known a man to tell more truths than Leadeye Lomax.  Of course, if he’s in a bind, he might stretch the facts a little.”