d
smilingly:--
"I am Henry Dimwood, alias Snapshot Harry, and this is my house."
"I came to speak with you about the robbery of greenbacks from the coach
last night," began Brice hurriedly, with a sudden access of hope at his
reception. "I mean, of course,"--he stopped and hesitated,--"the actual
robbery before YOU stopped us."
"What!" said Harry, springing to his feet, "do you mean to say YOU knew
it?"
Brice's heart sank, but he remained steadfast and truthful. "Yes," he
said, "I knew it when I handed down the box. I saw that the lock had
been forced, but I snapped it together again. It was my fault. Perhaps I
should have warned you, but I am solely to blame."
"Did Yuba Bill know of it?" asked the highwayman, with singular
excitement.
"Not at the time, I give you my word!" replied Brice quickly, thinking
only of loyalty to his old comrade. "I never told him till we reached
the station."
"And he knew it then?" repeated Harry eagerly.
"Yes."
"Did he say anything? Did he do anything? Did he look astonished?"
Brice remembered Bill's uncontrollable merriment, but replied vaguely
and diplomatically, "He was certainly astonished."
A laugh gathered in Snapshot Harry's eyes which at last overspread his
whole face, and finally shook his frame as he sat helplessly down again.
Then, wiping his eyes, he said in a shaky voice:--
"It would have been sure death to have trusted myself near that station,
but I think I'd have risked it just to have seen Bill's face when you
told him! Just think of it! Bill, who was a match for anybody! Bill,
who was never caught napping! Bill, who only wanted supreme control
of things to wipe me off the face of the earth! Bill, who knew how
everything was done, and could stop it if he chose, and then to have
been ROBBED TWICE IN ONE EVENING BY MY GANG! Yes, sir! Yuba Bill and
his rotten old coach were GONE THROUGH TWICE INSIDE HALF AN HOUR by the
gang!"
"Then you knew of it too?" said Brice, in uneasy astonishment.
"Afterwards, my young friend--like Yuba Bill--afterwards." He stopped;
his whole expression changed. "It was done by two sneaking hounds," he
said sharply; "one whom I suspected before, and one, a new hand, a pal
of his. They were detached to watch the coach and be satisfied that the
greenbacks were aboard, for it isn't my style to 'hold up' except
for something special. They were to take seats on the coach as far as
Ringwood Station, three miles below where we
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