HAUNTED.
Buffalo Bill at once moved rapidly toward the spot where he had seen
the white form. Twice he fired his revolver as he approached to light
up the scene. But he saw nothing.
The rear of the corridor had no egress, only a window some eight feet
from the floor. Upon either side were doors, full a dozen feet from
the end of the corridor, but one of these was closed too securely to
open, and the other was the one he had entered the long hall from and
led into the rooms he had selected for himself and comrades to dwell
in.
Not a particle of superstition had the scout, but here was a mystery
he could not solve.
How had the mountain lion got into that corridor? He had not entered
by the door, for that was closed and locked on the other side. He
could not have come through the window, even had he been able to leap
that high, for it was closed. The other door was locked or bound on
the other side, but to have come through that way it could only have
been done with the aid of a human being. All the doors, save the one
the scout had entered by, were closed. How, then, could the mountain
lion have got into the corridor without human help, and who was the
white-robed form at whom he fired?
Lighting match after match, Buffalo Bill looked about him. He could
discover nothing to show how the lion and the white form had entered.
There lay the lion dead. The spectral visitant was gone. And yet he
had aimed to kill, and Cody knew that he was not one to miss.
Going out of the door through which he had entered, the scout closed
it behind him, and, leaving the building, walked out into the bright
sunlight.
His sleeve was wet with blood, and he was feeling weak and a little
shaky.
But just as he was going to the brook to bathe his wounds, Texas
Jack, Winfield, and eight of the men came at a canter into the plaza.
They saw that there had been a death struggle, and he did not keep
them waiting long to know what it was.
“I have had a fight with a mountain lion I found in the hacienda,
Jack, and killed him, fortunately, before he did me much harm. Get my
medicine case from my saddle, and you, Stevens, see just how badly he
bit my arm, for you are the surgeon of the outfit.”
“Yes, chief,” answered Stevens, who had gone to Texas to practice
medicine, but had devoted himself to scouting instead.
The chief’s wounds were soon shown, and the marks of the teeth of the
animal were seen below and above.
“It is not nearly as bad as I would expect from the teeth of a
mountain lion,” said Stevens, whom his comrades called “Doc.”
“He must have been small,” said Winfield.
“No, he was large enough. I have him in the hacienda; but that is not
all I found, boys.”
“I see that your face is bruised and head cut,” Doc Stevens said.
“What was it, chief?”
“A ghost.”
Some of the men looked startled at this announcement, while others
laughed.
“Well, boys, I saw a human form, clad in white, and, as it did not
obey my order to hands up, I fired. But I could find nothing when I
looked for the dead body.”
The words of the chief created an impression, for all knew that he
was not in a joking humor.
“The truth is, pards,” Cody went on to say, “we are not wanted in
this valley, and I will tell you why. I had no idea that there was
such a settlement as this in this valley, and I wish to know if you
had ever heard of it?”
“I have been through here, before, ten years ago, and it surprised
me then, chief, but I have met no one else who knew that there was a
settlement here. Then its people were Mexicans, Indians, negroes, and
a few Americans.”
The one who spoke was Lone Star Sam, a handsome, dashing fellow,
reserved, courteous, whom his comrades regarded as a man with a past
that had left its impress upon him, for he never spoke of it.
“What did you find out about it, Sam?”
“Very little, sir.”
“What brought you here?”
“I was in search of one I was anxious to find, and, hearing of this
settlement from a Mexican officer, I came here to see if my man was
here.”
“Was he?”
“He was not.”
“Did you stay long at that time?”
“About a month, chief.”
Then Buffalo Bill told his story, and let the scouts understand what
discovery he had made, and what Señor Otega, the ranchero down the
valley, had made known to him, though he did not say where he had got
the information.
“Now, boys, we are here to find out where these secret outlaws are.
They are doubtless leagued for gold alone, but revenge may play a
part in their actions also. That they have a retreat is assured by
their keeping their captives as hostages. Where this retreat is we
must find out. Who they are we must know, and when we have set our
trap we must spring it in a way that will leave escape for none. A
dozen there may be, perhaps more, to work so well and successfully.
“The landlord--Riel is his name--I do not trust, so beware of him;
yes, and every one else, even the Padre Juan in Silver Lake, as he,
too, may be a wolf in the garb of a sheep, though I think not. Trust
no one, but keep your eyes and ears open, and be prepared at any time
to fight for your lives.
“I am, remember, an American ranchero, and you are my cattlemen. We
are here to stay, you can tell the inquisitive, and secretly we are
here to ferret out the mysteries of this valley.
“The curse that rests upon it is a mystery, the secret band of
robbers and kidnapers is another, my having met that Mexican officer
and maiden is a third, while the masked man and his four unmasked
followers is a fourth mystery. Then there is this deserted and
haunted hacienda, and let me warn you that it has begun its underhand
work already, for human hands led that mountain lion in where I found
him, and the white-robed form I fired at was no apparition, and you
are all too sensible to believe that such a thing could be.
“Now come up and see our quarters, and get the packs off the mules
and unload the wagon, for I wish to get lanterns, and, first of all,
make a thorough search of the old place. Where are the two wagon
drivers?”
“Back with the men I left with the herd, for nothing would induce
them to come any nearer to this hacienda, so one of the boys brought
the wagon on, and when it is unloaded, will drive it back and let
them skip, for they wish to be well on their way before night
overtakes them, and swear they would not have come a step had the
landlord told them where they were to take their load.”
Buffalo Bill laughed at the fears of the two Mexicans who had come
with the wagon, and Texas Jack went on to say:
“And, chief, those two fellows vowed that there was not a man in the
valley you could get to come to this hacienda, day or night.”
“All right. We don’t want any to come. But we are men, and here we
remain until I accomplish what I came for.”