s. The driver was not quite
at his ease; nor was the shotgun messenger. For somehow word had got out
a day or two in advance of the gold shipment that it was to be sent on
that date. The passengers, too, had faint doubts about the wisdom of
going to Tascosa on that particular trip.

The first twenty miles of the journey were safely covered. The stage
drew near to the place where now is located the famous Goodnight cattalo
ranch.

From the farther side of a cut in the road came a sharp order to the
driver. Two men had ridden out from the brush and were moving beside the
stage. Each of them carried a rifle.

The driver leaned backward on the reins with a loud "Whoa!" It was an
article of faith with him never to argue with a road-agent.

Ridley swung round to fire. From the opposite side of the road a shot
rang out. Two more horsemen had appeared. The reins slid from the hands
of the driver, and he himself from the seat. His body struck the wheel
on the way to the ground. The bullet intended for the armed guard had
passed through his head.

In the packed moments that followed, a dozen shots were fired, most of
them by the outlaws, two by the man on the box. A bullet struck Arthur
in the elbow, and the shock of it for a time paralyzed his arm. The
rifle clattered against the singletree in its fall. But the shortest of
the outlaws was sagging in his saddle and clutching at the pommel to
support himself.

From an unexpected quarter there came a diversion. With one rapid
gesture the man in the clergyman's garb had brushed aside his yellow
goggles; with another he had stripped the outer cover of charts from his
roll and revealed a sawed-off shotgun. As he stepped down to the road,
he fired from his hip. The whole force of the load of buckshot took the
nearest outlaw in the vitals and lifted him from his horse. Before he
struck the ground he was dead.

In the flash of an eye the tide of battle had turned. The surprise of
seeing the clergyman galvanized into action tipped the scale. One moment
the treasure lay unguarded within reach of the outlaws; the next saw
their leader struck down as by a bolt from heaven.

The lank bandit ripped out a sudden oath of alarm from behind the
handkerchief he wore as a mask and turned his horse in its tracks. He
dug home his spurs and galloped for the brow of the hill. The other
unwounded robber backed away more deliberately, covering the retreat of
his injured companion. Presently they