“I should call it rather a large incident,” said Mr. Sprague, recovering his breath.

“I suppose,” said Braddon, who seemed rather disposed to chaff his slender traveling companion, “if you like the Black Hills; you may buy one of them.”

“I may,” answered Mr. Sprague, letting his glance rest calmly on his big companion.  “Suppose we buy one together.”

Colonel Braddon laughed, but felt that his joke had not been successful.

The conversation languished after awhile.  It was such hard work riding in a lumbering coach, over the most detestable roads, that the passengers found it hard to be sociable.  But a surprise was in store.  The coach made a sudden stop.  Two horsemen appeared at the window, and a stern voice said:  “We’ll trouble you to get out, gentlemen.  We’ll take charge of what money and valuables you have about you.”

CHAPTER XXXIII

TWO UNEXPECTED CHAMPIONS

It may well be imagined that there was a commotion among the passengers when this stern summons was heard.  The highwaymen were but two in number, but each was armed with a revolver, ready for instant use.

One by one the passengers descended from the stage, and stood trembling and panic-stricken in the presence of the masked robbers.  There seems to be something in a mask which inspires added terror, though it makes the wearers neither stronger nor more effective.

Luke certainly felt startled and uncomfortable, for he felt that he must surrender the money he had with him, and this would be inconvenient, though the loss would not be his, but his employer’s.

But, singularly enough, the passenger who seemed most nervous and terrified was the stalwart Colonel Braddon, who had boasted most noisily of what he would do in case the stage were attacked.  He nervously felt in his pockets for his money, his face pale and ashen, and said, imploringly:  “Spare my life, gentlemen; I will give you all I have.”

“All right, old man,” said one of the stage robbers, as he took the proffered pocketbook.  “Haven’t you any more money?”

“No; on my honor, gentlemen.  It will leave me penniless.”

“Hand over your watch.”

With a groan, Colonel Braddon handed over a gold stem-winder, of Waltham make.

“Couldn’t you leave me the watch, gentlemen?” he said, imploringly.  “It was a present to me last Christmas.”

“Can’t spare it.  Make your friends give you another.”

Next came the turn of Mortimer Sprague, the young dude.

“Hand over your spondulics, young feller,” said the second gentleman of the road.

“Weally, I’m afraid I can’t, without a good deal of twouble.”

“Oh, curse the trouble; do as I bid, or I’ll break your silly head.”

“You see, gentlemen, I keep my money in my boots, don’t you know.”

“Take off your boots, then, and be quick about it.”