I lost no time in getting over to the club, where I wrote to Dewey & Stone for all the articles my wife required.  In a week the furniture arrived at Fort McPherson station.  I got a couple of six-mule teams and went after it quick.  When it arrived at the house and was unpacked Mrs. Cody was greatly delighted.

About this time General Emory was very much annoyed by petty offenses in the vicinity of the Post by civilians over whom he had no jurisdiction.  There was no justice of the peace near the Post, and he wanted some kind of an officer with authority to attend to these troublesome persons.  One day he told me that I would make an excellent justice.

“You compliment me too highly, General,” I replied.  “I don’t know any more about law than a Government mule knows about bookkeeping.”  “That doesn’t make any difference,” he said.  “I know you will make a good squire.  You accompany Mr. Woodin and Mr. Snell to North Platte in my private ambulance.  They will go on your bond, and you will be appointed a justice of the peace.”

A number of officers from the Post went to North Platte for this occasion.  After I was duly sworn in, there was a celebration.  I arrived home at three o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Cody still being in ignorance of my newly acquired honor.  I was awakened by hearing her arguing with a man at the door who was asking for the squire.  She was assuring him that no squire was on the premises.

“Doesn’t Buffalo Bill live here?” asked the man.

“Yes,” admitted Mrs. Cody, “but what has that got to do with it?”

By this time I had dressed, and I went to the door.  I informed my wife, to her amazement, that I was really a squire, and turned to the visitor to learn his business.

He was a poor man, he said, on his way to Colorado.  The night before a large bunch of horses was being driven past his camp, and one of his two animals was driven off with the herd.  Mounting the other, he followed and demanded the horse, but the boss of the herd refused to give it up.  He wanted a writ of replevin.

I asked Mrs. Cody if she could write a writ of replevin and she said she had never heard of such a thing.  I hadn’t either.

I asked the man in, and Mrs. Cody got breakfast for us.  He refused the drink I set out for him.  I felt that I needed a good deal of bracing in this writ of replevin business, so I drank his as well as mine.

Then I buckled on my revolver, took down my old Lucretia rifle, and, patting her gently, said:  “You will have to be constable for me today.”

To my wife and children, who were anxiously watching these proceedings, I said: 

“Don’t be alarmed.  I am a judge now, and I am going into action.  Come on, my friend,” I said to the stranger, “get on your horse.”

“Why,” he protested, “you have no papers to serve on the man, and you have no constable.”

“Don’t worry,” I said.  “I’ll soon show you that I am the whole court.”