The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1901-12-06

gentlemen" he continued. 81
shouldn't have fancied going over the
mountain with a. coach load o. dust,
and only two armed men-and one of
'em a civilian-to guard il"
"Who said there were only two
armed men," interrupted gruff
voice, and the sergeant stood in the
doorway. For moment, Mr.. Landon
that was his name-looked startled,
but the next instant turned laughir g.
ly to the sergeant.
''Why, you said so yourself, SER
geant. Didn't you say that you and
the accountant (Mr. Jones) would be-
ready in half an hours time. You
didn't say nothing about no Others. y
Sergeant Fulton growled something
under his breath as he dropped his
huge frame into chair and called
for drink.
"What's happened to that fellow
Moonbeam, sergeant?" asked Charlie
Wilson, after a pause. "He seems to
have left his district"
"Can't say, SIR" replied Fulton.
'sHe's tough nut to crack, and devil
knows what he's up to now. I'd give
ten years of my life to get that scoun-
drel."
eyes," laughed Charlie, 'he's given
you chaps a rough time for the last
year or two. 1 can't help admiring
the pluck of the fellow though he
is such a bad lot"
"a bad lot" growled the sergeant.
''He's murderin' william, that's what
he is. He shot my mate, Dick Quin-
ton, without giving the poor chap a
dogs chance of run for his money"
81 don't know anything about it,
and Pm talking lot of rot, sup
pose," said Landon, joining in, "but it
seems to mean outsider-to have
been his life or your friends. Troop
er Quinton wouldn't have given him
much law, I expect, if he could have
drawn a bead on him."
"You think not" said the sergeant,
sharply. "Well, 1 think, as I've said,
murderin' BLACKBOARD, and if L could
get chance at him I'd plug him as
L would bandicoot."
"Well, well, sergeant" laughed the
other, mo offense, and, as l say, l
haven't heard much about the chap.
What's he like? Have you ever seen
him?"
"Only once" said the sergeant,
slowly, "but I think I'd know him
again"
"Well," laughed the other, 81 can
only hope for Moonbeam's sake, that
you won't happen to meet him.
| At that moment a tall young man,
clad in heavy ulster, entered the
room. He carried a black bag in his
hand. "Good evening, gentlemen.
Mr.. Fane-Mr. LandOn-may 1 intro
| duce myself? I'm the bank account
ant. We're to be fellow-travelers,
and I'm much obliged to you for your
courtesy in coming on tonight. The
coach is ready. Shall we start?''
Five minutes later 1 had wrung
dear old Charles hand for the last
time for many day and taken my
seat in the coach. 1t was a light
spring coach, with a covering over it
| and two parallel seats. In the front
| one sat the driver, and by his side
| Sergt. Fulton, with a loaded rifle be-
| tween his knees. In the back seat sat
Landon, Jones, and myself; Jones,
| with his bag of gold on his knees, be-
| ing in the center.
1t was beautiful star-lit night,
| and the air was deliciously cool after
the broiling heat of the day. We were
all in the best of spirits, despite our
continuous journey, Landon especial
ly being in particularly facetious
| frame of mind. AS fellow-traveler,
| it would have been difficult to sur
pass him, so well stocked was he with
lively "reminiscences and amusing anec-
| dote. What he was by trade or pro-
fession he did not say, though l fancy
that we all tacitly took him to be a
commercial traveller. Certainly he
knew the road well, and even at that
hour of the night pointed out the va
| rious landmarks of interest as we
passed-landmarks rendered historical
| by association with bushranging and
gold mining incident.
| HdU > UllC IOCh UCIIlhu "ilCii ChS
Clarks hid to bail up the COACH" he
exclaimed suddenly, as great bould-
er doomed out, white and ghostlike in
| the flash of the coach lamps on our
right.
I peered with interest at the spot
| pointed out by Landon. The story OF
that particular Clarke exploit of some
| years before was known to everyone.
"They were darned well sold that
time," growled Sergt. Fulton as he
| glanced over his shoulder at the his
| torical rock.
Eyes, by gum," said Landon, ''and
serve 'em right, too-it was the worst
managed bit of business I've heard
of for many day-leastways," he
added hurriedly, "that's what a pal of
mine said when he read of it, but
Lord a. mercy, fancy man havin' the
grit to be bushranger, with death
starin' him in the face every hour of
the day. It's awful to think of"
cts darned sight more awful" re-
piled the sergeant, ''for an innocent
man comm quietly along the road to
have a hole put through him by a