The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-07-08

steep hill, slid with lurches down into
a narrow valley, down the middle of
which small stream ran, crossed by
wooden bridge. A few trees made
shade at the entrance to the bridge,
and in the declining day somewhat
darkened the little valley.
AS the driver, walking his horses,
entered the shadow of the trees, q
hoarse voice was heard shouting:
Haiti Throw up your bands" and
the horses were instantly brought to
standstill. Peering anxiously from the
windows, the passengers saw figure
so disguised with gunny-sacks as to
be unacceptable, holding double
barreled shotgun upon the driver.
The experience was not unfamiliar
to most of the passengers, and it had
become part of the unwritten code in
these regions to offer no resistance to
road-agents." In the first place the
robbers always had " the drop" on the
driver and passengers. In the second
place, it was understood that the rob-
bers "meant business" and shot "to
kill with unfailing promptitude if
their orders were not instantly obeyed.
So when there was no special express
messenger with the stage, the command,
"Throw down that box "-referring to
Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express box-was
responded to as matter of course; and
when the passengers were ordered to
step out and stand in line with their
hands up, no one thought of remon-
strating, as rule.
Besides, even when only one road
agent" was visible, it was impossible
to tell how many more might be hidden
in the brush with guns leveled at the
stage, and so in the present instance
the operation of stage-robbery pro-
ceeded smoothly. When all the male
passengers had alighted, however,
Mollie Black waited a moment, and as
the robber seemed to think he had
everybody before him, she concluded
to stay where she was. Her desire to
escape plumber was naturally great, for
she had with her the largest part of her
little capital. Now, to protect herself
in her wanderings, she had always
carried pistol, which weapon she had
learned to use with sufficient deXterity
during her experience as a scout. 1t
now occurred to her that, her presence
being evidently unknown to the high
wayman, an opportunity offered to turn
the tables on him. If he was really
alone and she could bring him down,
the stage would be saved, and it did
not occur to her that the experiment
was particularly dangerous. The road
agent was busily occupied in taking up
involuntary contributions from the
somber-faced row of disguised passen-
gers, when puff of white smoke
floated from one of the stage windows,
an echoing crash was heard, and the
robber clapped one hand to his back,
half turned, staggered and fell at full
length. Instantly the scene changed.
The motionless line of victims broke
up. The dropped gun of the PROSTATE
robber was seized and pointed at his
own head, and preparations were being
made TO bind him and place him in the
stage for conveyance to the nearest
jail, when the heroine of the adventure
stepped out of the stage and approached
the group clustered around the wounded
| man.
"Where did | hit him?" was her
first question. Then her womanly in
stincts came to the surface, and, as her
eye caught the redeemed grass. she
shivered, turned pale, and knelt beside
the conquered highwayman, who lay
breathing painfully. His face was still
covered with his rude mask of sacking.
"Take off that thing and give him
airp' she cried. Strangely enough,
nobody had thought of this before.
They removed the mask, disclosing a
face that had been handsome, but was
now worn and distorted by dissipation
and pain. Mollie glanced at it, first
indifferently, then with an air of
startled surprise and dawning horror.
AS she gazed, all the color died from
her cheeks. The man lay, meanwhile,
with closed eyes, his breathing coming
more heavily every moment. Sud-
| denly voice, so full of agony that all
who heard it shuddered, was heard, in
a strained whisper: "John Black"
And the dying man opened his eyes.
" Mollie, is that your" he murmured,
family, and without showing much sur
prise or emotion, for at the verge of the
| great transition one is past all that, and
then, too, the dying have visions which
confuse their notions of the real and
the ideal. AT that supreme moment,
| II may nave W lin lIldl
Mollie, of whom, through all his weak
ness and moral decay, he had always
thought lovingly, should be at his side.
He did not know who had shot him.
But Molle could not keep the secret
"Oh, john she sobbed, " it was I
who did it!
Whether John Black was capable of
grasping her meaning, it is, perhaps,
impossible to say, but he nodded feebly,
as though he understood, and as though
being shot by his wife was just as nat
ural as the rest, and whispering: 4" Kiss
me, Molliel" he managed to raise one
arm and drop it over her shoulder.
She stopped and kissed him, moaning
the while. AS she drew her lingering
lips away, that ashen pallor known so
well to all who have watched by the
bedsides of the dying stole over his
face, and his hand slid heavily from
her neck. The passengers, who stood
around, deeply moved, raised Molie to
her feet, as one of them drew a covering
over the white, placid face. AS she
looked up, the gathering night dropped
its dark folds over the little valley and