Buffalo Bill gave a fixed look, and then cried excitedly:
"By the gods of war, you are Wallace Weston or his ghost."
"I am a very healthy ghost, sir; but I am Wallace Weston, and I leave it to Surgeon Powell to tell my story to you."
The scout seized the gold-hunter's hand and wrung it hard, while he said:
"Thank God you are not dead, Weston, for only this night have I heard the truth of your story from the lips of the dying outlaw, Alvin Wolf."
"Ha! once my friend, then my foe, for he sided with the Mayhews against me."
"He did, and I have his diary, which tells the whole story; but now let me tell mine, and then we can compare notes and decide what is best to be done."
They first had supper, after staking out their horses, and afterward buried the body of the outlaw, Alvin Wolf.
Then, until after midnight, they sat talking together, the surgeon, the scout, and the gold-hunter, about all that had happened, after which they retired to their blankets.
It was just dawn the next morning when Wallace Weston rode away from the old camp to make all speed to Last Chance. His mission there was to take a letter to Driver Harding, which was as follows: