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dangers lay ahead for Calvin and me.
    Even Caesar seemed to sense something exciting was about to begin. He lunged around in the back of the buggy, sniffing the night air and barking every now and again as if he could barely wait to get wherever it was we were going.
    I nudged Calvin. "Can I have a name like yours?"
    "Surely you don't want to change
Bates
to
Featherbone.
"
    "No," I said, giggling at the idea of having a name as silly as Featherbone. "I'm talking about an outlaw name. You know what I mean—the sort you see on wanted posters."
    Calvin chuckled. "Why, you can give yourself any sobriquet you like, Eli."
    Sobriquet
—I mouthed the word silently, enjoying its sound. To Calvin I said, "My sobriquet is Kid Bates. If we hold up any banks, that's what I want you to call me."
    Calvin nodded. "The Gentleman Outlaw and his accomplice, Kid Bates. Yes, that will do nicely."
    "We might rob a bank or hold up a train," I said, "but we won't kill anyone."
    "Not unless we have to," Calvin agreed.
    "And we'll share our loot with the poor unfortunates of this world," I added.
    Calvin sighed. "I doubt we'll meet anyone more poor and unfortunate than ourselves."
    I studied his face to see if he was pulling my leg, but his features were hard to read. "The James brothers always gave to the needy," I reminded him. "I
heard they once saved a widow's farm by paying off her mortgage."
    Calvin nodded. "I've heard that story," he said. "Frank and Jesse held up the bank the very next day and stole the money back."
    'Yes, but the widow kept her farm."
    Calvin had no more to say on the subject, so we rode along for a while without talking. The moon came with us, turning the dusty road to a chalky white barred with black shadows. On either side, the woods were dark and still. There wasn't a house in sight nor any sign of a human being. Frogs peeped and thrummed. The wind whispered in the leaves, and an owl hooted. It was a lonely place.
    Calvin slowed the horse and peered into the shadows ahead. "It was in a spot like this that Roscoe and his boys ambushed me," he muttered.
    I shivered and drew a little closer to him. "What did you do to make those men hate you so?"
    "Quite simply, I won their money in a game of cards. Poor losers, that's what they were."
    "Miss Nellie told me you cheated Roscoe. She begged you not to, but you wouldn't listen to her."
    "Nell said I cheated?" Calvin turned up his nose. "The very idea. I merely used a few tricks my father taught me."
    "But aren't tricks the same as cheating?"
    "Certainly not," Calvin said. "My father was a man among men. He didn't need to cheat to win."
    Without looking at me again, Calvin flicked the
reins to remind Fancy she was supposed to be pulling the buggy, not eating honeysuckle, and we moved on, bouncing and swaying over the ruts in the road. Lulled by the rocking motion, I fell asleep with my head resting on Calvin's shoulder.
    ***
    When I woke up, the sun was just starting to creep above the horizon. Calvin estimated we'd put twenty miles between us and Elms Bluff, but it was at least another day's ride to Dodge City. Turning Fancy off the road, he found a nice stopping place in a grove of trees.
    'You and Caesar slept for hours," he said, "but poor old Fancy and I have been awake all night."
    We ate the food Miss Nellie had packed for us, and then Calvin lay down in the buggy and fell fast asleep, leaving me to entertain myself with my own thoughts, which tended to center around my future exploits as Kid Bates.
    After a while, I got out my harmonica and went through my repertoire, which consisted of songs like "The Old Folks at Home," "Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair," and "Home Sweet Home." They were mostly sad and mournful tunes, the kind that sound best on a harmonica, which makes music just about as lonesome as a train whistle late at night and far away.
    While I played, Caesar lay at my feet. Sometimes
he accompanied me with a soft whimpery howl, but for the most part he