Buffalo Bill's Spy Trailer; Or, The Stranger in Camp. Ingraham Prentiss

happened?" he asked as he put spurs to his horse and overtook a party of miners on the way to the hotel.

      The response he received caused him to spur forward and dash rapidly on to the head of the valley.

CHAPTER V.

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MASKED AND MERCILESS.

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      Dave Dockery had taken the place of driver on the Last Chance trail, after Bud Benton had been killed on the box by unknown parties.

      Dave Dockery was as shrewd as he was brave, and bore many scars of wounds received in the discharge of his duty, his nerve and endurance, it was said, saving his life where other men would surely have been killed.

      The coach out from Last Chance had gone on its dangerous run with a very large sum in gold-dust, but Dave had gotten safely through with it, and was congratulated by all who knew the chances he had taken of losing treasure and life.

      He had heard with regret, after reaching his eastern destination, that he was to be put to an equal strain going back, for a large sum of money in bank-bills was to be sent back to Last Chance in payment for several mines purchased there by outsiders.

      Dave was told that the box contained at least thirty thousand dollars, and so he hid it away as best he could in the coach.

      He also was carrying out as freight a dozen rifles of the last and most improved repeating pattern, and double as many revolvers, intended for the vigilantes of Last Chance, and who were personally unknown to any of the miners, though it was suspected that either Landlord Larry, the hotel-keeper, judge, storekeeper, and proprietor of the largest gambling-saloon in the place, or Doctor Dick, the gambler gold king, was the secret leader.

      Whoever the vigilante captain and his men might be, it was certain that they had a good influence over the most lawless spirits in the mines, the fact of their being unknown greatly aiding their good effect.

      Dave Dockery had hoped that he would have a stage-load of passengers upon the run to Last Chance, for he liked to have a crowd along, and then he felt that they were a safeguard as well, as in numbers there is strength.

      But, when the starting-time came, only two passengers appeared, one of them a miner going out to Last Chance to hunt for a fortune, and the other a young man who told Dave Dockery that he was only traveling from a love of adventure, and enjoyed the wild life he thus far had met with.

      He gave Dave a bunch of good cigars, showed him a silver flask of fine brandy, and was promptly invited to ride upon the box with him, an invitation that was as promptly accepted.

      Out of the little settlement rolled the coach, followed by a cheer from the crowd gathered to see it depart, for the going and coming of the coaches in border places are events of great moment to the dwellers there.

      The young man in search of adventure was upon the box with Dave, and the miner passenger was inside, where it was safer for him to ride, as he was in a hopeless state of intoxication.

      The horses dashed away in fine style, enthused by the cheer of the crowd, and Dave looked happy and proud, while his companion on the box appeared to enjoy the scene immensely.

      The young stranger was well dressed, for he had donned what was suitable for frontier roughing it, and wore in his belt a single revolver, as a means of defense rather than for show or bravado.

      He had a fine face, fearless and frank, and looked like a man of refinement and education.

      Dave Dockery was a good reader of human nature and took to his passenger at once, being really greatly pleased with his companionship.

      Three-fourths of the trail had been gone over without adventure, the three stops at the relay-stations, for changes of horses and meals for passengers, having been made on time, and Last Chance was only a dozen miles away, when, as they neared a dreary-looking spot in a gorge, Dave said:

      "There is where poor Bud Benton passed in his chips, pard, and I tell you I don't like the spot a bit."

      Hardly had he uttered the words when a sharp report rang out and Dave Dockery fell back upon the coach and lay motionless, while out of the shadows spurred a horseman dressed in black and wearing a red mask.

      With his revolver leveled at the stranger he said sharply:

      "Your turn next, sir, for I am out for blood and gold."

      Riding on the box with Dave Dockery, the young stranger had heard much of the wild ways of the border, and had been told that it would be madness to resist a "hold-up" of a coach, unless the chances were well on the side of those attacked.

      When, therefore, the sharp report of a revolver had been followed by the toppling over of poor Dave, and a masked horseman rode out of the shadows of the cliff, his revolver covering him, the young man did not just know what to do.

      He had with him a few hundred in money, his watch, chain, and a few articles of value, with some papers of importance.

      That the masked horseman was alone he could not believe, and yet he had, against all traditions of the border, begun by firing upon Dave Dockery, and not ordering him to halt first.

      That he had fired to kill the bullet-wound in the breast, and the motionless form of the driver as he lay back upon the top of the coach, were in evidence.

      Now he stood the chance himself of life and death, and he awaited the ordeal with white, but calm face.

      The horses had stopped in their tracks, and though no other persons were visible the stranger looked for others to appear. The thought flashed across him that he must lose all he had with him, but his life he could not believe was in danger, yet why the masked road-agent had killed Dockery without mercy he could not understand.

      "Do you mean to take my life, man?"

      "That depends whether it is worth more to kill you than to let you live," was the businesslike reply.

      But hardly had he spoken when from out of the coach window came a flash and report. The miner within, awakening to a sense of his danger, had taken a hand in the affair.

      The bullet barely missed the head of the masked horseman, who at once returned the fire, aiming first, however, at the young man on the box.

      With a groan the latter fell heavily to the ground, his revolver half-drawn from its holster, and the murderer, leaping from his saddle, took refuge among the horses while he called out:

      "I have killed your two comrades, and you share the same fate unless you surrender."

      "I cry quits, pard," came in frightened tones from the coach, and the man was evidently now sobered and greatly alarmed.

      "Then come out!"

      The miner quickly threw open the stage door, put his foot upon the step and then peered cautiously toward his foe.

      Instantly there came a shot, and, without a moan, he pitched forward head foremost and fell in a heap between the wheels.

      "Any more?" called out the road-agent sternly.

      No answer came, and, revolvers in hand, he stepped to one side and opened fire at the coach. He fired with both hands, and did not cease until he had emptied his weapons and riddled the coach.

      Then he unslung his rifle from his saddle-horn and cautiously approached, ready to fire at the first sign of danger to himself.

      But he had done his work well, and he had nothing to fear, so advancing to the coach, found that it was empty.

      Quickly he set about searching the vehicle for all of value that it might carry.