The hat especially filled him with amazement and rage, but there was
nothing else to do. I had to go as I was or go not at all.
The champagne with which my Omaha friends had filled my stateroom I
gave to the boys at the station. I did not have to urge them to accept
it. They laughed a good deal at my stovepipe hat and evening dress, but
because of the champagne they let me off without as much guying as I
would otherwise have received.
Jumping on our horses, we struck out on the trail of the soldiers. It
was about one o'clock when we overtook them. As we neared the rear
guard, I pulled off my overcoat and strapped it behind my saddle. I
also put my hair up under my stovepipe hat and galloped past the
command, to all appearances fresh from a New York ballroom.
"Look at the dude! Look at the dude!" they shouted as I rode among
them. Paying no attention to them, I galloped up and overtook General
Reynolds. Saluting him, I said:
"General, I have come to report for duty."
"Who in thunder are you?" he demanded, looking at me without a sign of
recognition in his eye.
"Why, general," I said, "I am to be your guide on this expedition."
He looked at me a second time, and a grin spread over his face.
"Can it be possible that you are Cody?" he asked. I told him that I was
Cody.
"Let down your hair," he commanded. I took off my hat, and my hair fell
over my shoulders.
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