'"Almighty God, our Father," said George W.
Kent.
'"Forgive us our sins," said I.
'"Forgive us our sins," said they.
'"And receive our souls."
'"And receive our souls."
'"Amen!"
'"Amen!"
'I laid them beside Ramon Gallegos and covered
their faces.'
There was a quick commotion on the opposite
side of the camp-fire: one of our party had sprung
to his feet, pistol in hand.
'And you!' he shouted--'you dared to escape?
--you dare to be alive? You cowardly hound, I'll
send you to join them if I hang for it!'
But with the leap of a panther the captain was
upon him, grasping his wrist. 'Hold it in, Sam
Yountsey, hold it in!'
We were now all upon our feet--except the
stranger, who sat motionless and apparently inat-
tentive. Some one seized Yountsey's other arm.
'Captain,' I said, 'there is something wrong here.
This fellow is either a lunatic or merely a liar--just
a plain, everyday liar whom Yountsey has no call
to kill. If this man was of that party it had five
members, one of whom--probably himself--he
has not named.'
'Yes,' said the captain, releasing the insur-
gent, who sat down, 'there is something--unusual.
Years ago four dead bodies of white men, scalped
and shamefully mutilated, were found about the
mouth of that cave. They are buried there; I
have seen the graves--we shall all see them to-
morrow.'
The stranger rose, standing tall in the light of the
expiring fire, which in our breathless attention to
his story we had neglected to keep going.
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