Jim yelled at her--threw her down on the seat. She felt the body of

the guard sink against her knees. Then she seemed to feel, to hear

through an icy, sickening terror.

A scattering volley silenced the guns above. Then came the pound of

hoofs, the snort of frightened horses.

"Jesse Smith! Stop!" called Jim, piercingly.

"Hold on thar, Beady!" replied a hoarse voice. "Damn if it ain't Jim

Cleve!"

"Ho, Gul!" yelled another voice, and Joan recognized it as Blicky's.

Then Jim lifted her head, drew her up. He was white with fear.

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"Dear--are--you--hurt?"

"No. I'm only--scared," she replied.

Joan looked out to see bandits on foot, guns in hand, and others

mounted, all gathering near the coach. Jim opened the door, and,

stepping out, bade her follow. Joan had to climb over the dead

guard. The miner and the young man huddled down on their seat.

"If it ain't Jim an' Kells's girl--Dandy Dale!" ejaculated Smith.

"Fellers, this means somethin'. ... Say, youngster, hope you ain't

hurt--or the girl?"

"No. But that's not your fault," replied Cleve. "Why did you want to

plug the coach full of lead?"

"This beats me," said Smith. "Kells sent you out in the stage! But

when he gave us the job of holdin' it up he didn't tell us you'd be

in there. ... When an' where'd you leave him?"

"Sometime last night--in camp--near our cabin," replied Jim, quick

as a flash. Manifestly he saw his opportunity "He left Dandy Dale

with me. Told us to take the stage this morning. I expected him to

be in it or to meet us."

"Didn't you have no orders?"

"None, except to take care of the girl till he came. But he did tell

me he'd have more to say."

Smith gazed blankly from Cleve to Blicky, and then at Gulden, who

came slowly forward, his hair ruffed, his gun held low. Joan

followed the glance of his great gray eyes, and she saw the stage-

driver hanging dead over his seat, and the guards lying back of him.

The off-side horse of the leaders lay dead in his traces, with his

mate nosing at him.

"Who's in there?" boomed Gulden, and he thrust hand and gun in at

the stage door. "Come out!"

The young man stumbled out, hands above his head, pallid and

shaking, so weak he could scarcely stand.

Gulden prodded the bearded miner. "Come out here, you!"




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