The Coolidge examiner., 1932-11-11


it on stage line out of Denver About the
time of the excitement in Deadwood the Gree
ley coach went into service on a route to
Elkhorn.
In 1873 bandits held up the stage, riddled
1t with bullets and killed three passengers.
The driver, Jack Quinn, escaped with the
mail and his exploit is mountain country his
tory. The bullet holes are visible in the old
rounded body.
Nobody knows when the old stage made its
first overland trip from Leavenworth. At the
time of the Civil war 1t was In service be-
tween the river and Denver Previous to that
it went over the Santa Fe trail and was
stranger in Santa Fe. Many buffalo shot
from its hurricane deck for it served as the
original rubber neck" wagon in the South
west, when the tourists from the East went to
sample the thrills in the wide open spaces.
Mention of Horace Greeley in connection with
stage coach recalls the classic story of Hank
Monk, perhaps the most famous of all western
stage coach drivers. Monk was the driver of
the coach in which the famous editor once rode
from Carson City, New, over the Sierras to
Placerville, Calf, The story of that famous
trip is told by Wesley Stout as follows:
Uncle Horace was the most generous of
men with advice. Thousands of readers held
their breath until he gave them the signal
to exhale; and If governments bundered or
the rainfall was excessive, it was not for lack
of Uncle Horaces omniscient counsel Accus-
toned to cosmic affairs, Greeley in Monk
only one more Jehu smelling of horses
Leaning out the window and peering over
his steel spectacles, the editor informed the
driver that he expected to be in Placerville
on the dot, having promised to speak briefly
fhnrn hnfnr0 nm n
wishing to catch the connecting coach.
"Yes, irl" said Monk blandly, and started
with a lurch which upset all. The early miles
were upgrade and the pace moderate, but
once Monk topped the Sierras, he opened the
throttle. The normal gait down this alpine
corkscrew was as breath-taking as a shoot
the-chutes; what this must have been is bet
ter left to the imagination. Greeley made
three attempts to get his head out the win
dow again and was thrown for a loss each
time. On the fourth down, he succeeded and,
his wreath of white chin whiskers bristling
with anger, he shrieked a command to slow
down.
Keep your seat, Horace" Monk called
back. "I'll get you there on time"
He did. This is the story at any rate, still
told as gospel. An admiring populace pre-
sented Monk with a heavy gold watch upon
which was inscribed Keep your seat, Horace"
and thereafter Hank was the commodore of
the fleet For fifty years after, any far west
ern impatience was as likely as not to be
squelched with this quotation
Greeley had ample time to advise the public
of Placerville from the veranda of the Cary
house. The name of Monk did not appear in
this speech or in Greeleys book, but the latter
does refer to the ride: "Yet along this mere
shelf, with hardly a place to each mile where
two r-oOo = troalo SC
writing as of 1S59-"the mail stage was driven
at the rate of ten miles an hour-in one
instance eleven-or just as fast as four wild
horses could draw it. Our driver was, of
course skillful, but had he met a wagon sud-
denly on rounding one Of the sharp points
we were constantly passing, a fearful crash
unavoidable Had his horses seen fit to
run away-as they did once the unlocking
of a trace, but at place where he had room
to rein them in out of the road on the upper
side-I know that he could not have held