stioningly.

"Guess he'll be right along, boss," the little man returned in a low
voice.

Again the storekeeper glanced anxiously down the trail. Then he turned
away with a slight sigh.

"Well, boys," he said, with another attempt at jocularity, "if ther'
ain't nuthin' doin', guess this mail's sure closed."

Passing again to the back of the cart, he gazed affectionately upon
the gold-chest. Then he lifted his eyes just as Van voiced the
question in everybody's mind.

"You sure ain't sendin' pore old Danny with that stage?" he cried
incredulously. "You sure ain't sendin' him fer James to sift lead
through? You ain't lettin' him drive Bill's horses?"

"He sure ain't. Him drive my plugs? Him? Gee! Ther' ain't no one but
me drives them hosses--not if Congress passed it a law."

The harsh, familiar voice of Wild Bill grated contemptuously. He had
come up from his hut all unnoticed just in time to hear Van's
protesting inquiry. Now he stood with eyes only for his horses.

Daylight at last shone through the mist of doubt and puzzlement which
had kept the citizens of Suffering Creek in darkness so long. They
looked at this lean, harsh figure and understood. Here was the driver
of the stage, and, curiously, with this realization their doubts of
its welfare lessened. All along they had been blaming Bill for his
lack of interest in the affairs of the camp, and now--

They watched him with keen, narrowing eyes. What mad game was he
contemplating? They noted his dress. It was different to that which he
usually wore. His legs were encased in sheepskin chaps. He was wearing
a belt about his waist from which hung a heavy pair of guns. And under
his black, shiny, short coat he was wearing a simple buckskin shirt.

They watched him as he moved round his horses, examining the fit of
the bridles and the fastenings of the harness. He looked to the
buckles of the reins. He smoothed the satin coats of his children with
affectionate hand. Then in a moment they saw him spring into the
cart.

Taking the reins from the choreman, he settled himself into the
driving-seat, while the deposed charioteer clambered stiffly to the
ground.

Minky was at the wheel nearest to his friend. The horses, under the
master-hand, had suddenly become restive. Bill bent over, and the
storekeeper craned up towards him.

"Ther' was two fellers hit the trail this morning," the gambler said,
with a short laugh. "I see 'em when I was with Zip--'fore dayli