nd instinctively he reached for his pistol-pocket.

"Throw up your hands!" commanded the outlaw. He had the drop on them.
Recalling poor Jake Dodsley's fate Barber Sam discreetly did as he was
bidden. As for Bill Merridew, he was shaking like a wine-jelly. The
horses had come to a stand, and the passengers in the coach were
wondering why a stop had been made so soon. Wholly unaware of what had
happened, Mary Lackington thrust her head from the door window of the
coach and looked forward up the road, in the direction of the threatening
outlaw. She comprehended the situation at once and with a scream fell
back into her father's arms.

Presumably, the unexpected discovery of a woman among the number of his
intended victims disconcerted the ruffian. At any rate, he stepped back
a pace or two and for a moment lowered his weapons. That moment was
fatal to him. Quick as lightning Barber Sam whipped out his unerring
revolver and fired. The outlaw fell like a lump of dough in the road.
At that instant Bill Merridew recovered his wits; gathering up the lines
and laying on the whip mercilessly he urged his horses into a gallop.
Over the body of the outlaw crunched the hoofs of the frightened brutes
and rumbled the wheels of the heavy stage.

"We 've got him this time!" yelled Barber Sam, wildly. "Stop your
horses, Bill--you 're all right, Bill, and I 'm sorry I ever did you
dirt--stop your horses, and let 's finish the sneakin' critter!"

There was the greatest excitement. The passengers fairly fell out of the
coach, and it seemed as if they had an arsenal with them. Mary
Lackington was as self-possessed as any of the rest.

"Are you sure he is dead?" she asked. "Don't let us go nearer till we
know that he is dead; he will surely kill us!"

The gamest man in the world would n't have stood the ghost of a show in
the face of those murderous weapons now brought to bear on the fallen and
crushed wretch.

"If he ain't dead already he 's so near it that there ain't no fun in
it," said Bill Merridew.

In spite of this assurance, however, the party advanced cautiously toward
the man. Convinced finally that there was no longer cause for alarm,
Barber Sam strode boldly up to the body, bent over it, tore off the hat
and pulled aside the muslin half-mask. One swift glance at the outlaw's
face, and Barber Sam recoiled.

"Great God!" he cried, "Miss Woppit!"

It was, indeed, Miss Woppit--the fair-haired, shy-eyed boy w