The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-10-11
ON THE DRIVERS SEAT.
Story Of a Terrible Ride in an Old
Stage Coach.

a party OF gentlemen, composed OF
half a dozen prominent citizens, were
assembled recently in the smoking room
of the Art club when the conversation
drifted to modern travelling conyen-
fences, and one of the number observed
that. while we had gained most marvel
lously in point of rapidity and luxury,
we had lost the poetry of travel as ex-
emplifed by the old fashioned coach,
with its belled and caparisoned horses,
its flourish Of tasseled whip and the
merry winding horn. The speaker was
stopped by another Of the party. whose
face had signifed his uneasiness at the
description.
Don't, my dear sirl'' said this gentle
man, who is q power in the financial cir.
cles of Philadelphia. ssYour reminis-
cence is very pretty, but your mention
of the antebellum stage coach revived o
memory which is even yet a horror to
me, though it is over thirty-five years
old. had an experience in one of your
landed vehicles once that afterward made
me walk nearly hundred miles to keer
from entering another, and to this day
whenever / am unwell or troubled In
any way, / am sure to dream of the oc,
currence, and my wife, hearing me
groaning, will awaken me with the cold
perspiration flowing from my body, and
say, Dreaming again Of your stage coach
fright, aren't you? And yet fiatteI
myself that I am not more cowardly than
most men"
The company insisted on the story, il
was given, as follows:
AS most of you know, my fathers
death followed close ON the heels OF his
failure in business, leaving me, his son
and only surviving member Of his fam
lily, without penny. l left college, but
wholly untitled for any work | found
myself on the verge of starvation, so
left Philadelphia and started west, turn
ing up finally in Virginia City. was
pretty desperate by this time, and glad
enough to accept an offer made me te
drive the stage to Sacramento 1t was
not long drive nor an unpleasant one,
though in paris rather dangerous, or at
least requiring careful driving and steady
horses.
II had made several trips very success
fully, when one morning | left Vir
ginia City with a single passenger. This
was a man Of slight, delicate build,
rather understood, too, dressed in heavy
clothes. which struck me at once as pecu
liar, for the day was lovely Jnne one.
Another thing impressed me disagree.
ably in my passenger-his eyes were a
bright, unnatural blue, with something
in their furtive glance that spoke i'll for
his conscience or his wits, though did
not think Of the latter then.
sit was very unusual thing for the
stage to carry so light load, and
found myself lingering q few minutes
behind time to see if more were moi
coming, for had a vague dislike, which
must have been q presentment, against
setting off alone with my queer passen-
ger. There WAS nothing for it, though,
bus to go, SO started. hoping TO pick up
others on the road. did not, however,
and gradually lost my depression
though it was a lonely ride without any
one to speak to, for, unlike most people
who patronized the line, the man
showed no disposition to talk or to aues-
ton the driver, so after one or two at.
tempts to draw him ont let my gentle.
man alone.
after awhile, however, he began tc
complain aloud, though to himself, at my
management of the horses, but | took nc
notice of his growing. We had by that
time reached the mountains and entered
on narrow strip Of road along the brow
of q canyon, at the bottom OF which
CLEANED a tiny thread OF silver, which
knew to DO the river. 1t was sheer
descent of 700 feet, and usually checked
the horses at that part Of the journey. ]
had done this. when my passenger stuck
his head out Of the window and demand
ed if iaeant to keep up that funeral
pace, but did not give nae time to an
swer, and thrust out his hand with re-
volver clasped in it.
{" Get off that seatv he yelled Twill
drive myself
II saw he would not hesitate to shoot
me, so climbed down with alacrity when
he advanced toward me. and, threaten
ing me still with the pistol, made me
get into the stage.