full of lead?"

"This beats me," said Smith. "Kells sent you out in the stage! But
when he gave us the job of holdin' it up he didn't tell us you'd be in
there.... When an' where'd you leave him?"

"Sometime last night--in camp--near our cabin," replied Jim, quick as
a flash. Manifestly he saw his opportunity "He left Dandy Dale with me.
Told us to take the stage this morning. I expected him to be in it or to
meet us."

"Didn't you have no orders?"

"None, except to take care of the girl till he came. But he did tell me
he'd have more to say."

Smith gazed blankly from Cleve to Blicky, and then at Gulden, who came
slowly forward, his hair ruffed, his gun held low. Joan followed the
glance of his great gray eyes, and she saw the stage-driver hanging dead
over his seat, and the guards lying back of him. The off-side horse of
the leaders lay dead in his traces, with his mate nosing at him.

"Who's in there?" boomed Gulden, and he thrust hand and gun in at the
stage door. "Come out!"

The young man stumbled out, hands above his head, pallid and shaking, so
weak he could scarcely stand.

Gulden prodded the bearded miner. "Come out here, you!"

The man appeared to be hunched forward in a heap.

"Guess he's plugged," said Smith. "But he ain't cashed. Hear him
breathe?... Heaves like a sick hoss."

Gulden reached with brawny arm and with one pull he dragged the miner
off the seat and out into the road, where he flopped with a groan.
There was blood on his neck and hands. Gulden bent over him, tore at his
clothes, tore harder at something, and then, with a swing, he held aloft
a broad, black belt, sagging heavy with gold.

"Hah!" he boomed. It was just an exclamation, horrible to hear, but it
did not express satisfaction or exultation. He handed the gold-belt to
the grinning Budd, and turned to the young man.

"Got any gold?"

"No. I--I wasn't a miner," replied the youth huskily.

Gulden felt for a gold-belt, then slapped at his pockets. "Turn round!"
ordered the giant.

"Aw, Gul let him go!" remonstrated Jesse Smith.

Blicky laid a restraining hand upon Gulden's broad shoulder.

"Turn round!" repeated Gulden, without the slightest sign of noticing
his colleagues.

But the youth understood and he turned a ghastly livid hue.

"For God's sake--don't murder me!" he gasped. "I had--nothing--no
gold--no gun!"

Gulden spun him round like a top and pushed him forward. They went half
a dozen paces, then the