at their post
beside the drivers; yet, despite all precautions, not a week passed
without a report that the stage out of this or that camp, had been
attacked and the passengers forced to surrender their money and
valuables. Under no circumstances, however, were any of Ramerrez's own
countrymen molested. If, by any chance, the road agent made a mistake
and stopped a party of native Californians or Mexicans, they were at
once permitted to proceed on their way with the bandit-leader's profuse
apologies.

But it was altogether different with Americans. The men of that race
were compelled to surrender their gold; although so far as he was
concerned, their women were exempt from robbery. As a matter of fact, he
had few chances to show his chivalry, since few women were living, at
that time, in the Sierras. Nevertheless, it happened in rare instances
that a stage was held up which contained one or two of them, and they
were never known to complain of his treatment. And so far, at least, he
had contrived to avoid any serious bloodshed. Two or three messengers,
it is true, had been slightly wounded; but that was the most that his
worst enemies could charge against him.

As for Ramerrez's own attitude towards the life he was leading, it must
be confessed that, the plunge once taken, his days and nights were too
full of excitement and adventure to leave him time to brood. Somewhat
to his own surprise, he had inherited his father's power of iron
domination. Young as he was, not one of his father's seasoned band of
cut-throats ever questioned his right or his ability to command. At
first, no doubt, they followed him through a rude spirit of loyalty;
but after a short time it was because they had found in him all the
qualities of a leader of men, one whose plans never miscarried. Fully
two-thirds of the present band were vassals, as it were, in his family,
while all were of Spanish or Mexican descent. In truth, Ramerrez himself
was the only one among them who had any gringo blood in his veins.
And hence not a tale of the outlaw's doings was complete without the
narrator insisting upon it that the leader of the band--the road agent
himself--closely resembled an American. One and all of his victims
agreed that he spoke with an American accent, while the few who had been
able to see his features on a certain occasion when the red bandanna,
which he wore about his face, had fallen, never failed to maintain that
he looked like an Ameri