laces are events of great moment to the dwellers
there.

The young man in search of adventure was upon the box with Dave, and the
miner passenger was inside, where it was safer for him to ride, as he
was in a hopeless state of intoxication.

The horses dashed away in fine style, enthused by the cheer of the
crowd, and Dave looked happy and proud, while his companion on the box
appeared to enjoy the scene immensely.

The young stranger was well dressed, for he had donned what was suitable
for frontier roughing it, and wore in his belt a single revolver, as a
means of defense rather than for show or bravado.

He had a fine face, fearless and frank, and looked like a man of
refinement and education.

Dave Dockery was a good reader of human nature and took to his passenger
at once, being really greatly pleased with his companionship.

Three-fourths of the trail had been gone over without adventure, the
three stops at the relay-stations, for changes of horses and meals for
passengers, having been made on time, and Last Chance was only a dozen
miles away, when, as they neared a dreary-looking spot in a gorge, Dave
said:

"There is where poor Bud Benton passed in his chips, pard, and I tell
you I don't like the spot a bit."

Hardly had he uttered the words when a sharp report rang out and Dave
Dockery fell back upon the coach and lay motionless, while out of the
shadows spurred a horseman dressed in black and wearing a red mask.

With his revolver leveled at the stranger he said sharply:

"Your turn next, sir, for I am out for blood and gold."

Riding on the box with Dave Dockery, the young stranger had heard much
of the wild ways of the border, and had been told that it would be
madness to resist a "hold-up" of a coach, unless the chances were well
on the side of those attacked.

When, therefore, the sharp report of a revolver had been followed by the
toppling over of poor Dave, and a masked horseman rode out of the
shadows of the cliff, his revolver covering him, the young man did not
just know what to do.

He had with him a few hundred in money, his watch, chain, and a few
articles of value, with some papers of importance.

That the masked horseman was alone he could not believe, and yet he had,
against all traditions of the border, begun by firing upon Dave Dockery,
and not ordering him to halt first.

That he had fired to kill the bullet-wound in the breast, and the
motionless form of the driver as he l