Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1898-02-19
che STORY Tfller.
HIS LAST RUN.
THE STAGE DRIVERS STORY

route from Gallatin to Helena, in Mon
tana, driving 4-horse coach in sum
mer, and "jerky" in winter, 70 mile:
day, through the widest region ano
over one of the most dangerous route:
in the United States. The country
through which his trail ran-for it wa:
little else than trail-was totally un
inhabited but for the three stage sta.
tions where horses were changed, and
which were dugouts, or log huts, q
miles apart. The Indians, though
generally friendly, were liable to be-
come enemies at a moments warning
road agents and outlaws were thicker
upon the Gallatin route than any other
north of the Union Pacific railroad
and the route itself ran through gull
lies and canons, and along the verge
of dizzy precipices, as though origi'
nally laid out by mountain sheep.
Notwithstanding all this, Jake was
successful driver, made better time.
lost fewer mails and express safes, and
ran his coach at smaller expense to
the company, than any other man in
their employ. But when misfortune
did overtake him, it was no light hand
that the genius of evil laid upon him,
which the following adventure proves
One muggy morning in early May
as Jake hauled up in front of the stage
Office, and prepared to receive mails,
express and messenger, and passen,
gers, if any there should be, for Hele'
ma, the Wells-Fargo agent called to
him from within. Throwing the reins
over the footbrake, Pool descended
from his perch, and entered the Office
The agent shut the door behind him
then drawing near, he said, in hall
whisper
"There's $4,000 in currency in the
safe to take over today"
Gall right |" responded Jake. "1've
carried more before now, and carried
it safely"
"But," said the agent, drawing still
nearer, "Dick's sick, and there's nc
messenger"
"Ah I" said the driver, meditative'
ly; then, touching the revolver which
hung at his belt, "I'll be messenger
and coachman both, then"
But" still continued the other,
"there's one thing more," and he lean
ed forward so that his lips touched his
companions ear. "Copper Tom and
his pal, Old Jim, are on the road. A
man from Cross Trees was robbed by
them last night"
Pool whistled long and low, and his
hand fell from his pistol-butt. "Cop'
per Tom" was the worst road-agent in
Montana-a desperate with both cour'
age and brains.
"Don't send the rags"
'"I must" said the expressman, anx'
iously. "The order is peremptory
the money must 60 today, messenger
or no messenger. Now will you take
it, and carry it through ?"
Jake laughed.
"I'n take it; that's part of my bus
mess. Throw the safe under the seat,
and give me your pistol may want
two." And he took the others re.
volver from the desk where it lay, and
thrust it into his boot-top. "As to
carrying it through that's another
matter, with those fellows to stop it.
But I'll promise you this-if 60
through, the safe shall ~
The agent grasped his hand and
shook it warmly. The door was
thrown open, the driver mounted his
seat, the iron box was slowed beneath
his feet, the single passenger ian old
woman, to be left at the first station)
got in, the whip cracked, the horses
plunged, the coach lurched heavily
forward, and amid a shower of mud
disappeared down the steep mountain
road.
Although it was May, the morning
was cold, and it was not until the sun
had climbed we'll up the eastern sky
that the chill thawed out Of the air,
and by that hour Pool was more than
20 miles upon his journey, with fresh
horses in the traces, and an empty
coach behind him. He began to
brighten with the sun.
"After 1 get through the Devils
Pass" said he to himself, "Copper
Tom or any other man may whistle
for me, for from that to Dickson's is
as handsome a road as ever horse
struck foot upon and whoever tries
to stop me there, unless he shoots first,
will 90 under the leaders, feet. in
tend to make that little seven miles in
Just % minutes without brakes"
And he gathered his reins with a
frmer hand, as if already whirling at
that mad pace down the mountain
side.
"Let's see," he continued ;if nothing
goes wrong, and the roads all right, l
ought to make my last change by five
o'clock, and reach the Pass before six.
1t will then be broad daylight, so l
can rattle right along and then, after
the spin down the 'causeway, iii
strike Dckson's before seven, certain.
Beyond that the road is too open and
too much travelled into Helena to be
dangerous. By Jove!" he concluded
his heart warming as he struck his
heels against the safe beneath the seat
ct don't COO whore the apentS can StOp