“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.”