am of six
horses swept into view. Round they swung, hitched to his well-known
spring-cart, and in a second had drawn up with a flourish in front of
the veranda.

A gasp of astonishment greeted this unexpected vision. Men stood
gaping at the beaming choreman sitting perched up on the driving-seat.
It was the first time in his life he had ever been allowed to handle
the gambler's equine children, and his joy and pride were written in
every furrow of his age-lined features.

The man sat waiting, while the thoroughbreds pawed the ground and
reached restively at their bits. But they were like babes to handle,
for their manners were perfect. They had been taught by a master-hand
whose lessons had been well learned. And the picture they made was one
that inspired admiration and envy in every eye and heart of those who
now beheld them.

But these were not the only emotions the sight provoked. Blank
astonishment and incredulous wonder stirred them, too. Bill's horses!
Bill's cart! Where--where was the gambler himself? Was this the stage?
Was Bill--?

The talk which had been so long suppressed now broke out afresh.
Everybody asked questions, but nobody answered any. They crowded
about the cart. They inspected the horses with eyes of admiration and
wonder. No man could have withstood the sight of the rope-like veins
standing out through their velvet skin. They fondled them, and talked
to them as men will talk to horses. And it was only when Minky
suddenly appeared in their midst, bearing in his arms an iron-clamped
case which he deposited in the body of the cart, that their attention
was diverted, and they remembered the purpose in hand.

The gold-chest deposited and made secure, the storekeeper turned to
the crowd about him.

"Well, boys," he said, with an amiable smile, "any more mail? Any you
fellers got things you need to send to your sisters--or somebody
else's sisters? You best get it ready sharp. We're startin' at eight
o'clock. After that you'll sure be too late. Y'see," he added
humorously, "we ain't figgered when the next stage goes." He pulled
out his nickel silver timepiece. "It's needin' five minutes to
schedule," he went on officially, glancing keenly down the trail.
Anyone sufficiently observant, and had they been quick enough, might
have detected a shade of anxiety in his glance. He moved round to the
side of the cart and spoke to the man in the driving-seat.

"It's nigh eight. He ain't here?" he said que