was for the best.

With the sinking behind of the lights of the station, the occupants of
the coach knew that the dangerous part of the journey had begun. The two
guards in the coach had already made obtrusive and warlike preparations,
to the ill-concealed disgust of Yuba Bill. "I'd hev been willin' to get
through this yar job without the burnin' of powder, but ef any of them
devils ez is waitin' for us would be content with a shot at them fancy
policemen inside, I'd pull up and give 'em a show!" Having relieved his
mind, Bill said no more, and the two men relapsed into silence. The moon
shone brightly and peacefully, a fact pointed out by Bill as unfavorably
deepening the shadows of the woods, and bringing the coach and the road
into greater relief.

An hour passed. What were Yuba Bill's thoughts are not a part of this
history; that they were turbulent and aggressive might be inferred from
the occasional growls and interjected oaths that broke from his lips.
But Jeff, strange anomaly, due perhaps to youth and moonlight, was
wrapped in a sensuous dream of Miss Mayfield, of the scent of her dark
hair as he had drawn her to his side, of the outlines of her sweet form,
that had for a moment lightly touched his own--of anything, I fear, but
the death he believed he was hastening to. But--

"Jeff," said Bill, in an unmistakable tone.

"Yes," said Jeff.

"THAT AR CLUMP O' BUCKEYE ON THE RIDGE! Ready there!" (Leaning over the
box, to the guards within.) A responsive rustle in the coach, which now
bounded forward as if instinct with life and intelligence.

"Jeff," said Bill, in an odd, altered voice, "take the lines a minit."
Jeff took them. Bill stooped towards the boot. A peaceful moment! A
peaceful outlook from the coach; the white moonlit road stretching to
the ridge, no noise but the steady gallop of the horses!

Then a yellow flash, breaking from the darkness of the buckeye; a crack
like the snap of a whip; Yuba Bill steadying himself for a moment, and
then dropping at Jeff's feet!

"They got me, Jeff! But--I DRAWED THEIR FIRE! Don't drop the lines!
Don't speak! For--they--think I'm YOU and you ME!"

The flash had illuminated Jeff as to the danger, as to Bill's sacrifice,
but above all, and overwhelming all, to a thrilling sense of his own
power and ability.

Yet he sat like a statue. Six masked figures had appeared from the very
ground, clinging to the bits of the horses. The coach stopped. Two wild
purposel