"Aren't you going to plant the tree?"

"No," he replied carelessly, "it would n't grow there. The soil's too
hard."

The cowboys spread their beds every night under the cottonwoods beside
the lower acequia, and that night we heard them in earnest discussion
long after they had gone to bed. Mr. Williams was with them for a
short time and came back, saying that they were talking about ghosts,
and that Kid had declared emphatically that the old Apache chief walked
o' nights and that he had both seen and heard him.

"He gave a vivid description," Mr. Williams went on, "of waking up one
night and seeing the Indian's skeleton rise up out of the ground and
pounce on a soldier who stood near and kill him outright. He will have
Holy John so terrified that the poor fellow will want his time at once.
For John believes everything that is impossible, and he will see ghosts
all night long and be afraid of his own shadow in the daytime."

That night, just as morning broke, the whole household was awakened by
a loud, piercing yell, followed by another and another, and all rushed
from their beds in time to see Holy John leap over the fence and dart
down the road, still shrieking as if fiends were after him. And beside
his deserted bed under the cottonwoods lay some grisly thing, shining
in the gray light with streaks and patches of white. Kid looked after
the flying figure and said, in a tone of extremest satisfaction,

"He's sure buffaloed!"