THE SEARCH OF THE RUIN.
The corridor of the hacienda was first entered through the wing the
chief of scouts had selected for occupation, and it was seen that
all, save the door through which he had made his entrance and exit,
was securely fastened.
Whoever it had been the chief had fired at, could only have entered
by that single door, as far as could be seen.
The rear window was opened then, and showed that it had been closed
for a long time. So did the wide front doors, which filled almost the
other end of the corridor. But the other doors, save that one through
which Buffalo Bill had entered, showed plainly that they had not been
opened for a long while.
That door the chief himself had opened from within the wing, and
yet the lion had been found in the corridor, as also had the white
apparition, whatever it was.
“Well, if a mountain lion could get in here, a ghost ought to. The
lion was certainly not a specter brute, as I have proof,” said the
chief, with a grim smile. “We will now look over the rest of the
building.”
And they did so, going into each wing, the chapel, and the basement
in the solid rock beneath it, the second story, and up to the tower.
This done, and finding nothing more than that it had been the haunt
of owls and bats, the party blew out their lanterns and returned to
the wing where their comrades had been hard at work.
With water from the stream, and brooms, they had cleaned up the rooms
well, a fire had been built in the large open chimney, the tables got
out, chairs set around, the cooking utensils put in the fireplace,
the bedding placed in the sleeping rooms, and in little more than
three hours the hacienda, in that wing at least, presented a very
comfortable appearance.
Then the wagon was returned to the two waiting Mexicans, and the
broken-down plaza entrance was repaired, as it was decided best, for
a few nights at least, to drive the horses and cattle into the walled
grounds about the hacienda, so that they would begin to understand
that it was home.
Just before sunset the stock was driven up, and the gateway having
been finished, so as to make it strong again, it was closed for the
night, and the scouts went to get supper.
Two guards were appointed for the night, one in the hacienda, one at
the entrance to the grounds, and Buffalo Bill selected men whom he
knew were not of a superstitious turn of mind, remarking to Texas
Jack:
“If we put on a man who was looking for ghosts, this is the very
place to find them, and he would be alarming us constantly with
challenges of apparitions, so I just put on men who have no fear of
the dead.”
“You are right, for though there is not a man in the band who would
not fight big odds if he knew he was facing men, several of the
boys would skip at the sight of anything in this ruin they did not
understand. I am sorry that you told them the ghost story.”
“No, it was best, for if this hacienda is the haunt of outlaws as I
believe it has been, it will be by springing the supernatural upon
us, that they will endeavor to frighten us away.”
“Yes, that is so, and from that standpoint it was best; but the
cleverness of that apparition act shows that they have some means of
getting in and out that we are not on to yet, chief.”
“Well, it won’t be long before we are, if the men are not stampeded
by a supposed ghost,” was Buffalo Bill’s answer.
In the band of brave men congregated in the hacienda that night,
about half of them had a superstitious dread of the old deserted
mission ranch.
Buffalo Bill saw just how these men felt, and he read the faces of
those who had no dread. So he said, as all were seated in the ranch
waiting to retire:
“Remember, pards, I believe that efforts will be made to drive us out
of here to-night. Not by direct force, for, with our numbers, they
will not attempt any attack.
“But this hacienda is very old. Strange deeds have been done here,
crimes committed, and most mysterious happenings have occurred.
“Now, there is no such thing, as all of you know, as spooks and
ghosts, for the dead never come back to earth in spirit form. But,
relying upon the fears of many that believe in spooks, wicked men
play the ghost act to frighten all away from this place for a purpose
of their own.
“My idea is that this place has been the abode of outlaws, and
our coming here thwarts their game to keep hidden. As they dare
not attack us openly, they will play the specter game and try and
stampede us.
“But that will not go with you, and as an extra precaution to-night
I will keep four men on duty instead of two. Two of you can be
together: a couple in the hacienda, the others about the grounds.
“But, remember, neither of the guards must move into the domains of
the others, for my orders are to shoot everything on two legs you see
prowling about, be it ghost or man.
“Now, Jack, you go on duty with three men until midnight, and I will
relieve you then with three more.”
This plain talk quieted the foolish dread of those who had been
feeling anxious as to what might happen, and Texas Jack went on duty
with three men whom he called to follow him, being careful to select
two of the three whom he knew had an uncanny fear of the place.
One of them he left on guard at the hacienda with a comrade who had
no fear of ghosts, and the other he took out in the grounds with him,
though showing no sign that he suspected either.
The horses were huddled together in one corner of the walled-in
plaza, and the cattle were in another, all quiet and apparently
wondering why they were penned up.
As the guards left the hacienda the others turned in for the night,
and were soon fast asleep, Buffalo Bill setting the good example by
dropping off instantly into a deep slumber.
Soon after the guards had gone on duty, the horses began to grow
uneasy, just why Texas Jack could not understand. As they still
continued their restlessness, he told the man who was with him to
stand guard at the gateway while he went among the restive animals.
But the man preferred to go with him, and he said no more.
The two quieted the horses, to find that the cattle also were getting
restive, and, cowboy fashion, Texas Jack began to sing to them, for,
as he muttered to himself:
“If they stampeded they may break out, and about half the nags will
go with them.”
The cattle also became quieted under the weird chanting of the Texan,
and then the horses once more became restive.
“Say, Pinto Paul, you stay about the horses while I soothe the
split-hoofs with the melody of my voice, which can lull them to
rest,” said the Texan, in a light vein.
“Jack, give me an order to tackle the mate of that mountain lion the
chief killed, or to brace up against a couple of outlaws, and I’ll do
it, but don’t expect me to play a lone hand, for I don’t intend to do
it.”
“You are surely not scared, Paul?”
“I tell you that this is no place for living men when the dead are
prowling about.”
Texas Jack saw that Pinto Paul was in deadly earnest, and he said no
more, merely remarking:
“Well, Paul, if you think I am a foil to the ghosts we’ll stay
together, and we’ll keep by the gate, so as to head the cattle if
they make a break for it, and I’ll keep up my song.”