ome--now unlimber."

He saw only those black, indistinct figures, leaping out of the smoke,
converging on the coach, their naked arms uplifted, their voices
mingling in savage yells. Like lightning he worked his rifle, heart
throbbing to the excitement, oblivious to all else; almost without
realization he heard the deeper bellow of Moylan's Winchester, the
sharp bark of a revolver at his very ear. Gonzales was all right,
then! Good! He never thought of the girl, never saw her grip the
pistol from the Mexican's dead hand, and crawl white-faced, over his
body, to that front seat. All he really knew was that those devils
were coming, leaping, crowding through the smoke wreathes; he saw them
stumble, and rise again; he saw one leap into the air, and then crash
face down; he saw them break, circling to right and left, crouching as
they ran. Two reached the stage--only two! One pitched forward, a
revolver bullet between his eyes, his head wedged in the spokes of the
wheel; the other Hamlin struck with emptied rifle-barrel as his red
hand gripped the door, sending him sprawling back into the dirt. It
was all the work of a minute, an awful minute, intense,
breathless--then silence, the smoke drifting away, the dark night
hiding the skulking runners.

CHAPTER VI

THE CONDITION IN THE COACH

Mechanically--scarcely conscious of the action--the Sergeant slipped
fresh cartridges into the hot rifle chamber, swept the tumbled hair out
of his eyes with his shirt sleeve, and stared into the night. He could
hardly comprehend yet that the affair was ended, the second attack
repulsed. It was like a delirium of fever; he almost expected to see
those motionless bodies outstretched on the grass spring up, yelling
defiance. Then he gripped himself firmly, realizing the truth--it was
over with for the present; away off there in the haze obscuring the
river bank those indistinct black smudges were fleeing savages, their
voices wailing through the night. Just in front, formless, huddled
where they had fallen, were the bodies of dead and dying, smitten
ponies and half-naked men. He drew a deep breath through clinched
teeth, endeavoring to distinguish his comrades.

The interior of the coach was black, and soundless, except for some
one's swift, excited breathing. As he extended his cramped leg to the
floor he touched a motionless body. Not until then had he realized the
possibility of death also within. He felt downward