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.”