me signal for
down-brakes before Westinghouse and his science put everything at the
touch of the engineer. Almost at the moment the swift rush of the train
became jarring and rough. Two daring men scampered, monkey-like, along
the top of the cars, twisting a brake on each, then darting to the
next. A furious gust of steam tore from the escape-valve and streamed
away overhead. Not a thing was in sight on the track, not a soul on the
platform, to account for the alarming signal. A switch-target clanked
as they tore over the points; a vagrant dog scurried away toward the
once thriving saloon, and not until they drove in, hissing, grinding,
and bumping, to the side of the dusty platform, did Ben's keen eyes
catch sight of two herdsmen's horses--cow ponies--tethered back of the
shanty beside the saloon, and up went the lid of his box at the
instant, in went his right hand, and then out it came full grasp on a
brown-barrelled six-shooter.

CHAPTER IX

BAD NEWS FROM THE MINES

"A hold-up," muttered Toomey, as, obedient to Big Ben's orders, "Duck,
you two!" he and Geordie crouched for the moment in the dark interior
of the cab. But who would hold up a freight bound to, not away from,
the mines? Twice, thrice, indeed, since the cavalry had been sent from
Fort Reynolds, the overland express had been flagged between Argenta
and Summit Siding, and masked men had boarded the train, despoiled the
passengers and Pullmans; and once old Shiner had come under suspicion
because certain plunder was found at his place.

"The robbers are discharged soldiers," swore the sheriff of Yampah;
"their haunt is at Shiner's." Yet not so much as a scrap of other
evidence was there found. Shiner threw open his doors to the officers,
bade them search high and low, declared upon honor as he would upon
oath that he himself had found the damaging evidence--two pocket-books
and some valueless papers--on the open prairie a mile from his place
the day after the third of the "hold-ups." There had long been bad
blood betwixt him and the sheriff, and this time the man of the law
gave the lie, and but for prompt work of bystanders--deputy Shiners and
sheriffs both--there would have been cause for a coroner's inquest on
the spot. Before that day it had been avowed hostility between them;
now it was war to the knife. Much of this was known to the men of the
railway, who sided according to their lights. Few of them knew Shiner;
many knew the sheriff. It