she had stuck it out so far, and she would try to stick it out
the little while longer yet required.

This ultimatum must have interrupted the serenity of Barber Sam's temper;
he broke his E string that evening, and half an hour later somebody sat
down on the guitar and cracked it irremediably.

And now again it was spring. Nothing can keep away the change in the
season. In the mountain country the change comes swiftly, unheralded.
One day it was bleak and cheerless; the next day brought with it the
grace of sunshine and warmth; as if by magic, verdure began to deck the
hillsides, and we heard again the cheerful murmur of waters in the gulch.
The hollyhocks about The Bower shot up once more and put forth their
honest, rugged leaves. In this divine springtime, who could think evil,
who do it?

Sir Charles Lackington, president of the Royal Victoria mine, was now due
at the camp. He represented the English syndicate that owned the large
property. Ill health compelled him to live at Colorado Springs. Once a
year he visited Red Hoss Mountain, and always in May. It was announced
that he would come to the camp by Tuesday's stage. That stage was robbed
by that mysterious outlaw and his gang. But Sir Charles happened not to
be among the passengers.

This robbery (the fourth altogether) took place at a point midway between
Lone Pine and the glen. The highwayman darted upon the leading horses as
they were descending the hill and so misdirected their course that the
coach was overturned in the brush at the roadside. In the fall Steve
Barclay's right arm was broken. With consummate coolness the highwayman
(now positively described as a thick-set man, with a beard) proceeded to
relieve his victims of their valuables, but not until he had called, as
was his wont, to his confederates in ambush to keep the passengers
covered with their rifles. The outlaw inquired which of his victims was
Sir Charles Lackington, and evinced rage when he learned that that
gentleman was not among the passengers by coach.

It happened that Jake Dodsley was one of the victims of the highwayman's
greed. He had been to Denver and was bringing home a pair of elaborate
gold earrings which he intended for--for Miss Woppit, of course. Poets
have deeper and stronger feelings than common folk. Jake Dodsley's
poetic nature rebelled when he found himself deprived of those lovely
baubles intended for the idol of his heart. So, no sooner had the ou