nd that man's
dummkopf--all in and out the town. Perhaps in this letter Lena will
say that she is yet feeling better. So, her mamma will be glad. /Auf
wiedersehen/, Herr Ballinger--your feets will take cold out in the
night air."

"So long, Fritzy," said old man Ballinger. "You got a nice cool night
for your drive."

Up the road went the little black mules at their steady trot, while
Fritz thundered at them occasional words of endearment and cheer.

These fancies occupied the mind of the mail-carrier until he reached
the big post oak forest, eight miles from Ballinger's. Here his
ruminations were scattered by the sudden flash and report of pistols
and a whooping as if from a whole tribe of Indians. A band of
galloping centaurs closed in around the mail wagon. One of them leaned
over the front wheel, covered the driver with his revolver, and
ordered him to stop. Others caught at the bridles of Donder and
Blitzen.

"Donnerwetter!" shouted Fritz, with all his tremendous voice--"wass
ist? Release your hands from dose mules. Ve vas der United States
mail!"

"Hurry up, Dutch!" drawled a melancholy voice. "Don't you know when
you're in a stick-up? Reverse your mules and climb out of the cart."

It is due to the breadth of Hondo Bill's demerit and the largeness of
his achievements to state that the holding up of the Fredericksburg
mail was not perpetrated by way of an exploit. As the lion while in
the pursuit of prey commensurate to his prowess might set a frivolous
foot upon a casual rabbit in his path, so Hondo Bill and his gang had
swooped sportively upon the pacific transport of Meinherr Fritz.

The real work of their sinister night ride was over. Fritz and his
mail bag and his mules came as gentle relaxation, grateful after the
arduous duties of their profession. Twenty miles to the southeast
stood a train with a killed engine, hysterical passengers and a looted
express and mail car. That represented the serious occupation of Hondo
Bill and his gang. With a fairly rich prize of currency and silver the
robbers were making a wide detour to the west through the less
populous country, intending to seek safety in Mexico by means of some
fordable spot on the Rio Grande. The booty from the train had melted
the desperate bushrangers to jovial and happy skylarkers.

Trembling with outraged dignity and no little personal apprehension,
Fritz climbed out to the road after replacing his suddenly removed
spectacles. The band