“No; I am an American, and once passing through this valley, decided to find a home here. I called upon you, but you were away from home, and I have just arrived to settle here.”
“How can I serve you, señor?”
“I have some miles away my cattle and horses, and my destination is the old deserted hacienda down the valley on the lake. I would ask you if you can place me in communication with the owner?”
“I cannot, my son, for the one who fell heir to that truly accursed place is a stranger, and was never here. It is a blot upon the valley, and will be a home of ill omen should you dwell there, which Heaven forbid.”
“I thank you, padre, but my men and cattle are near, and to-morrow night I will take possession of the ill-omened place, as you call it, with the pledge to you to pay what is right for its use. As we are all men, we need but little household furniture, and that I can buy at your stores here in Silver Lake City.”
“But, my son, let me tell you that this whole valley is under a curse, and if you remain here, especially within that dreary hacienda with its record of death, you but become another upon whom suffering must fall.”
“I will take all chances, padre, and as the deserted hacienda is to be my home, let me say that I will be happy to entertain you there whenever you pass that way.”
“Thank you, señor, thank you, but only in case duty called me would I cross the threshold of that house, for it is haunted by the crudest of memories, if not worse. I wish you well, señor, but I have warned you—it was my duty.”
Returning to the landlord of the little adobe tavern, Buffalo Bill told him that he wished to make some purchases, and to get a wagon to take them to the deserted hacienda.