en't seen anything of the
kind."

"Ever had any adventure with them yourself?" asked Manning in a coaxing
tone, as he fancied he could see that the old fellow had a story which
he could be induced to relate.

"Yes," he answered, puffing quietly away at a cigar which Manning had
given him. "About a year ago I had a little experience up near
Thompson's place, which we will reach about ten o'clock, if we have no
bad luck."

"Let us hear it, won't you?" asked one of the other passengers, now
becoming interested.

"Well," answered the driver, evidently pleased at finding himself an
object of interest, "wait until we round this spur here, and then we'll
have a tolerable straight road ahead. I don't suppose, though, that
you'll find it very interesting."

In a few moments they passed around the spur of the mountain, and the
whole landscape was lighted up with a blaze of moonlight that flooded
the scene with a radiance beautiful to behold. No living habitation was
within sight, and the rumble of the coach was the only sound that broke
the stillness that brooded over the scene.

The driver settled himself back in his seat, and after a few preparatory
coughs, and a swallow of brandy, to clear his throat, began his
narration.

CHAPTER XX.

The Stage Driver's Story.

"Well," said the driver, as he set his long-lashed whip into its socket,
and gathered up his reins in his left hand, in order to afford him an
opportunity to declaim more freely with his right, "you must know that
I've been drivin' on this line more than two years, and consequently I
know every inch of the route like a book. I must own, though, that I
didn't know quite as much at the time I speak of. The driver whose place
I took when I came on to the road, had been pretty badly used up in a
scrimmage with the bandits about a week before, and I didn't like the
prospects, you may be sure; but as I was out of a job, I took this, and
I made up my mind when I I commenced, never to put my head in the way
of a robber's bullet, if I could help it."

"That's the case with most of you, isn't it?" said Manning,
good-naturedly.

"What makes you think so?" inquired the driver, quizzically.

"Why, the ease and success with which stage coaches have usually been
robbed," was the reply.

"Well, I'll tell you," he answered, good-humoredly, and not the least
disturbed by Manning's quiet reflection on the bravery of stage drivers
in general. "When a fellow has