A DEAD GHOST.
Out of the hacienda came Texas Jack and the others, while, springing
before the entrance, Buffalo Bill called out soothingly to the
cattle, the other scouts doing the same as they came out.
There was a moment of suspense, but then the herd calmed down, as all
the scouts, thoroughly trained cattlemen, began to sing to them.
Then Texas Jack went to the aid of Buffalo Bill, calling out as he
advanced:
“Winfield stands guard with several men in the hacienda, and I came
to see who fired that shot, chief.”
“I did. There is a dead ghost lying yonder, and I hope it will end
this fool dread of spooks,” was Buffalo Bill’s reply.
Seeing that the cattle were being quieted by the scouts, Texas Jack
walked toward the white object lying thirty feet away, at the foot of
the high wall.
“Well, Jack, it’s a flesh ghost, isn’t it?” called out Buffalo Bill,
as he saw his pard bend over it.
“It is, sir, and I’ll call several of the men to guard the gate while
we carry it up to the hacienda to have a look at it.”
“Do so.”
Several men at once came at the call, among them Pinto Paul.
“There’s the ghost, Pinto Paul; at least, he is more ghost now than
he was a short while ago,” said Texas Jack.
“What is it?” he asked, in an awed way.
“A dead man, now, who was playing ghost a while since. He did not
know that I was on duty at the gate there, for he heard Broncho
Rawlings singing, and supposed he was alone on watch.
“As the ghost was trying to take down the barrier, to let the cattle
out, I held him up, but, as he did not heed, I fired on him. I did
not fire to kill, but to wing him, but just as I pulled trigger he
fell into a hole I remember is there, and caught the bullet in a
vital spot. But it shows that spirits can be killed, Pinto.”
The scout made no reply, for he was beginning to see that if the
hacienda was haunted it must be by flesh and blood of ghostly forms.
“I’ll give you a hand, Jack,” said Buffalo Bill.
But the Texan dragged the white form out of the gully into which he
had fallen, and shouldered it without an effort.
As he moved off toward the hacienda Buffalo Bill joined him, calling
out to the scouts to keep the cattle quiet, while he went to
investigate the ghost in the glare of the light.
Arriving at the hacienda, Texas Jack deposited his load before the
fire, and lighted a couple of lanterns, while Buffalo Bill walked to
the corridor where Winfield was on guard.
“Well, Winfield, how goes it?”
“All quiet, now, sir; but that shrieking was a bloodcurdler, even to
me, and I feared it would stampede some of the boys along with the
cattle.”
“No, we headed them off. But keep your ears open for the slightest
sounds, now, though I do not believe we will have any more
disturbances. The ghost is laid, I think.”
So saying, Buffalo Bill returned to the large room.
The fire had been brightened up, and, with the light of several
lanterns, the room was very light.
Texas Jack had laid the form upon the floor before the fire, and,
with a couple of the men who had come in, was standing looking at it.
It was clad in a white garment, made to resemble a shroud, and the
head was also wrapped around, though two holes had been made for the
eyes to peer through. On each side, near the belt, there were two
slits, through which the arms could be thrust.
The white covering was taken from the form by Buffalo Bill and Texas
Jack, and a dark, foreign face was exposed.
“It is a Mexican,” said Texas Jack.
“Yes, and he came to kill, if need be.”
Buffalo Bill pointed to the belt of arms the man wore. He was attired
half in Mexican, half in frontier garb, and his face was an evil
one. Also, about his waist was a buckskin belt that contained several
hundred dollars in gold.
“Well, Jack, we need not report the killing of this man, at least
just yet. We will wait and see if we hear of it, and, if so, the man
who makes it known we will spot. I trust, now, the boys will not fear
ghosts any more.”
“I hope not, chief.”
“Send each one of them here to have a look for himself, and they will
know that I was right when I said an effort would be made to scare us
away from here.
“As we did not scare, they will try some other plan to get rid of us;
but, one thing is certain, that these men have some way of entering
and leaving the hacienda we do not know of, but must find out.
“You see there is not a sound now, for they know that one of their
spirits has come to grief.”
Texas Jack went out after the men, and they all took a look at the
“ghost,” made their comments, saw where the bullet of the chief had
struck him in the head, and then the body was put in a vacant room, a
guard placed in the grounds, at the gate, and the rest of the scouts
returned to their blankets, Pinto Paul remarking:
“Well, I take no more stock in ghosts, though I don’t just love this
old owl’s nest.”
The night passed away without much sleep for a few of the scouts.
There was not another sound heard in the hacienda, and the horses
and cattle quieted down. This proved to the men that they had been
frightened by the white-robed form going about among them.
The body of the dead Mexican was buried in the walled inclosure,
while Winfield prepared breakfast and put things to rights.
After the meal was over, he and six of the scouts took the cattle to
graze, while Texas Jack and the others started upon a thorough search
of the old mission ranch. They were anxious to find out just where
their disturbers of the night before had hidden, or, if concealed in
the place, how they had got into it, and made their exit.
Having posted men here and there on the watch, one in the tower,
one upstairs, one in the grounds, and seen the others start in the
search, Buffalo Bill put on his best rig and rode away, his men
wondering where, and why he had dressed up. He rode his best horse,
carried a rifle slung to his saddle, and seemed prepared to meet
friend or foe.
That he carried no provisions along, after saying that he would not
return until night, was also a surprise to the scouts, who knew that
their chief was not one to miss a meal except on compulsion.
Down the valley rode the scout, and, following the lake shore its
length, he turned, after going half a score miles, in a trail leading
to the left toward the mountain range on the eastward.
Up among the foothills he saw a fine hacienda which he knew was the
place where he had spent the night in passing through the valley a
month before.
Toward this he wended his way, for he wished to talk with Señor Otega.
The señor it was who had told him of the secret band of robbers in
the valley, of the curse that rested upon the people, and this had
influenced him in coming there to solve the mystery, to hunt down the
outlaws.