an awed tone.

"Wall, they'll find our Joe one too many for 'em ef they git arter him,
for there ain't a better fighter nor a truer shot in the hull country,"
returned Parkenson, so ready to exalt Marshall's qualities that it
required only a slight stretch of imagination to proclaim him a
pugilist. "Wasn't I along with him oncet when the Injuns attacked him--"

"Yes," interrupted the Captain, "but Hinjuns is different from road
hagents; yer hain't got no chance with a lot of fellers as jump hout
from be'ind a tree with a rifle levelled at yer 'ead."

"But I tell you, I seen Joe," persisted the landlord, raising his voice
with a determination to be heard, "when the derned redskins cum along
whooping and yelling like a lot o' devils let loose. Joe never stopped
to ask how he could sarve 'em, but he jest blazed away at 'em, keeping
the mustangs straight along 'thout so much as lettin' a cuss or a sound
out of his mouth."

This was one of Marshall's peculiarities. He was ostentatious in his
silence, seldom uttering a syllable while driving, unless it was to give
vent to some scarcely audible command to his horses.

The words had hardly passed Parkenson's lips when the sound of wheels
and the clatter of horses' hoofs were heard. Everybody hastened to the
door; even the women were on the alert, and they had to crane their
necks to get a view over the heads of the men of the belated stage. Joe
Marshall's seat on the box was filled by Tucker, a well known miner.

"Lend a hand, here, boys," he cried; "Marshall's knocked up, inside
there." Quickly securing the reins he jumped to the ground, just as the
stage door was thrown open. Another miner of the neighborhood sat in a
corner, tenderly supporting the unconscious form of poor Joe, and under
his direction a dozen willing hands were enlisted to convey the wounded
young man to his room.

"You're a doctor, ain't yer?" asked Mary Jane of Carter, wringing her
hands in distress, while tears streamed down her cheeks. "Then why don't
yer take a holt and do somethin' for Joe?"

Carter's agitation was so great, however, that he was unable to offer
suggestions, and, for the moment, forgetting the requirements of his
profession, he simply moved along with the crowd.

Joe's clothing was torn and stained with blood; so were the lifeless
hands which lay where they had been placed across his breast; while his
long, brown hair fell back in a heavy, damp mass from his broad, pallid
bro