General Reynolds was very much delighted with the success of the expedition.  On his arrival at the Fort he received congratulations from General Ord and from General Sheridan.  General Sheridan asked in his telegram if Cody had gone along.  The general wired back that Cody had gone along and also wrote a letter telling General Sheridan how he had reported in evening dress.

Of course the papers were soon full of this raid.  Al Sorenson of the Omaha Bee, who had seen my evening clothes and silk hat in Omaha, wrote an extremely graphic story of my arrival on the Plains.  I soon found that the officers and men in the Third Cavalry knew all about the incident.

During the spring of ’72, the Indians were rather quiet.  We did a little scouting, however, just to keep watch on them.  One day, in the fall of that year, I returned from a scouting expedition, and as I passed the store there were a lot of men crowded in front of it.  All of them saluted me with “How do you do, Honorable!” I rode straight to the general’s private office.  He also stood at attention and said: 

“Good morning, Honorable.”

“What does all this ‘Honorable’ mean, General?” I demanded.  He said:  “Of course, you have been off on a scout and you have not heard, but while you were gone you were nominated and elected to represent the twenty-sixth district of Nebraska in the Legislature.”  I said: 

“That is highly complimentary, and I appreciate it, but I am no politician and I shall have to tender my resignation,” and tender it I did.

My refusal to serve as a lawmaker was unqualified.  I knew nothing about politics.  I believe that I made a fairly good justice of the peace, but that was because of no familiarity with the written law.  I merely applied the principles of fair-dealing to my cases and did as I would have been done by.  The Golden Rule was the only statute I applied.

I inquired how to free myself formally from the new honors that had been thrust upon me, and soon another man was serving in my stead—­and quite welcome he was to the pay and credit that might have been mine.

I returned back to the Plains for employment, but there was nothing to do.  The Indians, for a wonder, were quiet.  There was little stirring in the military posts.  I could have continued to serve in one of them if I had chosen, and the way was still open to study for a commission as an officer.  But army life without excitement was not interesting for me, and when Ned Buntline offered me a chance to come East and try my fortunes as an actor I accepted.

I accepted with misgivings, naturally.  Hunting Indians across a stage differed from following them across the Plains.  I knew the wild western Indian and his ways.  I was totally unacquainted with the tame stage Indian, and the thought of a great gaping audience looking at me across the footlights made me shudder.

But when my old “pards,” Wild Bill and Texas Jack, consented to try their luck with me in the new enterprise I felt better.  Together we made the trip to New York, and played for a time in the hodgepodge drama written for us by Ned Buntline himself.