Year: 1875

"There's the coach" said the opera-
tor, "and Bill Woodford's horn. There
must be something wrong; this il not
his run"


J Lights cleaned 1t the outer end Of
the platform. The clumsy old coach
rumbled up, the driver in . gray over
coat and woolly cap helped to get the
mail bag in the boot, shouting out
This way, if you please, gentlemen,
and not an inch o. time to spare"


"What's up, Woodford e said deep
bass voice, "and whers,a Sam to-niRhffa 2
-~He's gone and gaxe In ankIe b10.
ish twist; that's al. Come, look alive
there"


buttoned up my coat, felt that my
pistol was all right. I had taken il
from the black bag just before the ar
rival OF the coach. Iclambered in, took
. forward seat, and as somebody swung
lantern backward and forward, dis
cerned that save very old gentleman.
who seemed to be doing in the back,
that was the only passenger.
! The driver cracked his whip and with
terrific jolting we started at furious
rate of speed. We had, perhaps, ac-
cdmplished five or six miles in this way,
when the rickety old affair gave sud
den lurch before coming to full stop;
and the driver appeared at the window
dripping with rain.


"We'll have 70 tumble here for the
night, I reckon, gents, for the storm
last night has blown tree right square
across the road, and the leader has got
a rock in his foot and can't 60 ON any
way"


Pleasant prospect, truly! 'There's
old Job Silvers' cabin, yonder; we can
put up with him I guess until morn
in"


As the driver had already began to
unhitch, there was nothing to do but
beg the hospitality of Mrs. Silvers, and
the old gentleman and myself scrambled
out, the former growing savagely when
he found the road ankle-deep in a sticky
mire, and the rain pouring in torrents.


~ should like to throttle that villain,
and shoot that accursed leader on the
spot" said the old gentleman, making
off toward the miserable shanty, to the
right some thirty rods. After q sup
per of frizzled bacon, fried eggs and
excellent coffee, which was not so bad a
supper, eaten before . spanking fire of
birch logs, the host, a tall, grim old
man, with the face of one Of Napoleon
I. soldiers, albeit with q certain look of
simplicity impossible to soldier, con-
Quoted me up rude pair of stairs to o
sleeping apartment. The room sloped
low in the ceiling on two sides, being
just under the roof, and was furnished
with two narrow beds aud two chairs.


took off my coat and waistcoat and
flung myself into bed, putting my pis-
tol and watch under my head.


The grim old man excused his pover-
ty and took away the candle, his cow
hide shoes creaking on the stairs as he
descended. On second thought I took
my watch from under the pillow and
placed it between the mattresses on the
further side of the bed, next to the wall,
and soon fell asleep, lulled by the dron-
ing voices underneath and the rain that
fell on the shingled roof, sound / used
to love in my boyhood.


was awakened by the creaking of
the board floor under a stockinged foot
The room undoubtedly owned another
occupant than myself, whether legiti-
mately so remained to be discovered.
What money I had with me carried
in the right pocket of my trousers, the
safest place, BY all means. also car
ried a large and clumsy jack knife. such
as sailors cut tobacco with. I don't
know why I should have remembered
the knife, but did. The walking had
ceased, but I fancied I heard stiHed
breathing in the room; this might have
been only fancy. However, l gently
drew myself to the side next the wall,
between which and the bed there was
just room enough for q human body,
and slipped to the floor. think I
smiled at this impulse, but ut that mo-
mcnt the creaking recommended, fol-
lowed by q smothered oath. and knew
that some one was softly approaching
the bed. I had ceased to smile. Ibid
not admire the idea of struggle in the
dark. and unfortunately my tapers were
in my waistcoat, which I had thrown
on chair when retiring. Nevertheless,
had no notion Of being q quiescent
party to murder, and l began to work
my way to the foot of the bed, which
had succeeded in doing very quietly.
thought Of the knife again aud
opening it, stuck it in nv waistband, a
thing would not do again under the
circumstances. If I had only removed
the pistol


As the novelist would say, all this oc-
Cured in much less time than it takes
to write it. or read il either. and only a
few minutes had elapsed since my first
waking.


My next move was rather singular
had noticed light print spread on
the bed, gaudy piece Of calico like our
attic window curtains at home.
snatehed this from the bed and sprang
to the side whence the noise proceeded.
A man leaned over the bed; he turned
with growl Of rage. but being 1.-the as
cat enveloped his head with the
calico, my hands at his throat in an in
slant. He was . powerful wretch and