s left as soon as the letters were finished, and having seen
them depart Doctor Dick went over to the hotel to get his supper, which
Loo Foo had ordered for him, after which he returned, looked at his
patient, gave him a dose of medicine, and, throwing himself upon his
bed, was soon fast asleep, wholly oblivious it seemed of the dead man
and the sufferer within a few feet of him.

CHAPTER VIII.

A STRANGE BURIAL.

The courier on the trail of Landlord Larry found him and his
half-hundred miners trailing the mountains and valleys over in search of
some trace of the coming of the road-agents to the scene of the tragedy,
and their going therefrom.

But the search of the evening before, and up to the arrival of Wall at
noon, when they had gone into camp, had been wholly in vain.

Not a hoof-track could be found of the road-agents' horses, nor a place
where they had lain in wait until the stage came along.

Landlord Larry was not one to waste energy upon impossibilities, and
after reading Doctor Dick's letter he decided to return with his men to
Last Chance.

They set out soon after the midday rest and arrived in Last Chance just
as all was in readiness for the burial of Dave Dockery and Brassy, for a
double funeral was to be had.

The landlord dismissed his men and went at once to the quarters of
Doctor Dick, who greeted him warmly and asked:

"Any success?"

"Not a bit."

"Too bad."

"We could not find the photograph of a trail and to search longer was a
waste of time, so as the men wished to go to Dave's funeral, I just came
in."

"It was about all you could do under the circumstances, Larry."

"I see that they have got the corpse you furnished rigged out for burial
too."

"Brassy?"

"Yes."

"Why not, for he has a number of friends?"

"Don't fear no trouble, do yer?"

"No, I think not, for Brassy prescribed for himself and I administered
the medicine."

"Served him right for playing with edged tools."

"I will not say that, poor fellow, for life was dear to him; but he
should have been more careful."

"We will go together to the burial."

"By all means, and I'll give my friends a hint to be ready if Brassy's
pards go to showing an ugly mood, while you will go prepared, Doc?"

"I always am," was the laconic response.

"Now, how's yer sick man?"

"He will recover bodily, but never mentally I fear."

"I'm sorry," and Landlord Larry went to prepare for the burial.

In half an hou