ung man came forward.

"Thank you, Wall, go with me to my cabin and I'll give you the note.
Now, I wish a man to go as courier to Fort Faraway, and remember it is a
dangerous and long ride."

"I hain't afeered of the danger, or the ride, Doc, so I'm yer man," said
a burly fellow coming forward, and his words were greeted with a cheer.

Doctor Dick glanced at him and then said very calmly:

"Thank you, Brassy, but I do not care to accept your services."

"And just why?"

"In the first place, I desire to send a letter to Buffalo Bill, and you
have expressed openly your hatred for him, and to some day even up on
him for not allowing you to have your way in certain matters."

"I doesn't allow my hates to interfere with duty."

"I do not care to accept your services, Brassy."

"Now, I asks a reason why?"

"I have given you one."

"I wants another."

"Is this a demand?"

"It be."

"You shall have it."

"Then don't beat round the bush, but have the narve to come out with it
like a man."

All looked at Brassy with amazement. He had been drinking and was
reckless.

The doctor smiled, but answered complacently:

"I always answer a demand, Brassy, so will tell you frankly, that I
would not trust you with any message whatever."

The words fell pat from the lips of the doctor, and there was no
misunderstanding them, and Brassy did not, for with a yell he shouted:

"Yer shall eat them insultin' words, Doctor Dick!" and quick as action
could be, he had drawn his revolver and fired.

The crowd had fallen back from about each man at Brassy's cry, and yet
one man caught the bullet intended for the doctor in his shoulder.

It was not a second after the shot of Brassy's before the doctor's
weapon rang out.

He had not expected Brassy to open fire so quickly, so was not prepared
for defense; but he was just so little behind him in time, that before
the man could pull trigger a second time, he fired, and his bullet went
straight where aimed, between the eyes of the one he intended to kill,
when he dropped his hand upon his revolver.

Brassy's pistol fired a second shot as he fell, but it was from the
death clutch upon the trigger, and the bullet went over the heads of the
crowd, while instantly was heard the doctor's quiet tones:

"Come, men, who volunteers as courier to Faraway?"

A young man stepped promptly forward and answered:

"I was a soldier at Faraway, sir, and know the trail. I will go."

"You a