"Old Huckleberry's Claim."

Having completed his quarters, he strolled about among the saloons and
gambling-dens, watched the playing, but neither drank nor gambled, and
at last, tiring of looking on, went to his roost and turned in for the
night, an object of curiosity to all, yet also of admiration, for a man
who would volunteer to drive the coach over that trail was one to
command respect in Last Chance.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE WAY IT WAS DONE.

The new driver drove the run to W--- for several round trips, and not
once was he held up.

He made the regular time, drove without any accident whatever, attended
to his business, associated with no one, or, that is, to be on intimate
terms with any one, not even Doctor Dick, and still slept in his little
shelter on the hill.

He had fitted this up more comfortably, and said that he felt perfectly
at home there, while on his return from W---- he had led his horse back
behind the coach, wishing to have him at Last Chance, where his stay was
always two weeks, for there was only a day's stop at the other end of
the run.

He was wont to go on long hunts, mounted upon Rawbones, as he called his
horse, and he kept Landlord Larry well supplied with game.

One day as old Huckleberry was returning to Last Chance, and neared the
Dead Line, the scene of the other hold-up, he suddenly threw his rifle
to his shoulder and sent a shower of buckshot into a thicket ahead.

A rifle-bullet from the other barrel was sent to the other side, and the
whip was brought down upon his team in a way that put them into a run.

Seeing them well started he threw the reins over the brake and with a
revolver in each hand opened a fusillade on both sides of the trail,
while he called out to his passengers:

"Blaze away into the bushes, durn yer, for thar is game thar ter kill!"

All this had not taken over half a dozen seconds, and that there was
"game" in the thickets, and dangerous game at that, was proven by
hearing several loud cries of pain, and stern orders given, while men
were seen hunting shelter from the unexpected fusillade opened upon
them.

There were eight passengers in the coach, and, urged by the old driver,
several of them obeyed and opened fire from the windows.

The result was that where road-agents had been lying in wait for the
coach, and were just about to show themselves and command a halt, they
were taken completely by surprise and forced to seek shelter from the