When they got down near the bottom of the hole, which, after all, was not so very deep, instead of striking against buckskin bags, their knives struck clothing.
“Waugh!” Nomad gurgled in his surprise. “He’s wrapped ther thing up in his coat, I reckon.”
Buffalo Bill began to heave out the sand in great handfuls; when it was discovered that the coat hid a body.
The old trapper flung himself out of the grave—for that is what it was—with a snort.
“I’m jiggered ef thet don’t give me ther creeps!” he cried. “Waugh! Cody, there’s a dead man in thar.”
The baron was also tremendously excited.
Buffalo Bill continued to excavate quietly, but hurriedly; and soon revealed a man’s arm.
“I’ll have your help here, Nomad,” he said.
“Br-r-r! I’m er Piegan, Buffler, ef thet don’t give me ther creeps.”
“I am in der same fixings,” said the baron, jumping about. “Ach! A deadt mans! Vot iss der meanness?”