hough with a sudden nervous bracing within. "Yes."

"And you expected me here? You will give me a free hand?"

"Yes," cried Smith ringingly. "Damn 'em, yes. Go to it, Buck!"

Thornton turned stern eyes upon Blackie.

"I can shoot twelve holes through you before you get your hand out of
your pocket," he said crisply. "You damned stool-pigeon! Now, suppose
you pull your hand out ... _empty_! ... and stick it up high above your
head. Think it over, Blackie, before you take any fool chances."

His left hand held Comet's reins gathered up close as he spoke; his
right rested lightly on the horn of his saddle. Blackie plainly
hesitated; a tinge of red warmed his swarthy cheek; his eyes glittered
evilly.... Then suddenly he whipped out his hand, a revolver in it....

But Thornton, for all of the handicap, fired first. His own right hand
went its swift, sure way to the gun swinging loose in its holster under
his left arm pit; he jabbed it forward even as he swung himself to one
side in the saddle, and fired. The revolver slipped from Blackie's hand
and clattered down to the bed of the wagon while Blackie, crying out
chokingly, his face going white with fear, clutched at his shoulder and
gave up the fight.

With scant time allowed in their plans to waste on such as Blackie he
was made to lie down in the bottom of the wagon, his wrists bound, his
wound very rudely bandaged, his body screened from any chance view by
the boxes and mail bags and a handkerchief jammed into his mouth. Within
ten minutes Hap Smith was clattering on, his and the guard's mouths and
eyes grim and hard, and Thornton had again dropped behind, just out of
sight around the first bend in the road.

"And now, my boy," muttered Hap Smith to his friend the guard, "keep
both eyes peeled and your trigger-finger free. Hell's goin' to pop in
considerable less'n no time."

Nor was the stage driver unduly pessimistic. Half an hour after Blackie
had gone down among boxes and bags the lumbering vehicle thundered into
one of the many deep gorges through which the narrow road wound. Here
was a sharp turn and a bit of steep grade to take on the run if the
stage were to keep to schedule time. But suddenly and with a curse from
Smith and a sharp exclamation from the guard, Hap slammed on his brake.
A newly fallen pine tree, three feet thick, lay across the road.

The guard's rifle was ready in his hands; in a flash Hap Smith had
dropped his reins so that they were he