The scout still made no reply. It is doubtful if he heard his superior officer. He seemed devouring the features of the unconscious man.
Little of the face could be seen for the matted beard and hair. Yet the angles of the cheek-bones and jaw were easily traced; likewise, the penthouse brows and deeply sunken eyes. The nose was prominent—a handsome nose, with its point thin and flexible, and the nostrils well marked.
“No—no,” murmured the scout at last. “I never could have seen him before—never!”
“What’s the matter with you, Cody?”
Buffalo Bill looked up at him, and wet his lips before speaking.
“I—I thought I saw a ghost, Captain Keyes—a ghost! My God! and it’s no wonder, with my mind full of the horror I have seen already this evening. It—it was Danforth—he’s got into my mind, and I can’t forget him.”
“Dick Danforth—Lieutenant Danforth?”
“Aye—the poor boy himself.”
“What under the sun has Dick got to do with this madman?”
“Oh—nothing! nothing!” exclaimed Cody, leaping up. “But I have to report a very terrible thing, captain.”