“Reminds me of what the Bible sez,” said Logroller; “’there’s a lion on the trail; I’ll be chawed up, sez the lazy galoot,’ ur words to that effect.”

“Come, come boys,” interposed the colonel; “don’t mix religion an’ bizness.  They don’t mix no more than—­Hello, thar’s the crack of Old Black’s whip!  Pick yer bushes—­quick!  All jump when I whistle!”

Each man secreted himself near the roadside.  The stage came swinging along handsomely; the inside passengers were laughing heartily about something, and Old Black was just giving a delicate touch to the flank of the off leader, when the colonel gave a shrill, quick whistle, and the five men sprang into the road.

The horses stopped as suddenly as if it was a matter of common occurrence, Old Black dropped his reins, crossed his legs, and stared into the sky, and the passengers all put out their heads with a rapidity equaled only by that with which they withdrew them as they saw the dominoes and revolvers of the road-agents.

“Seems to be something the matter, gentlemen,” said the colonel, blandly, as he opened the door.  “Won’t you please git out?  Don’t trouble yourselves to draw, cos my friend here’s got his weapon cocked, an’ his fingers is rather nervous.  Ain’t got a han’kercher, hev yer?” asked the colonel of the first passenger who descended from the stage.  “Hev?  Well, now, that’s lucky.  Jest put yer hands behind yer, please—­so—­that’s it.”  And the unfortunate man was securely bound in an instant.

The remaining passengers were treated with similar courtesy, and then the colonel and his friends examined the pockets of the captives.  Old Black remained unmolested, for who ever heard of a stage-driver having money?

“Boys,” said the colonel, calling his brother agents aside, and comparing receipts, “’tain’t much of a haul; but there’s only one woman, an’ she’s old enough to be a feller’s grandmother.  Better let her alone, eh?”

“Like enough she’ll pan out more’n all the rest of the stage put together,” growled Cranks, carefully testing the thickness of case of a gold watch.  “Jest like the low-lived deceitfulness of some folks, to hire an old woman to kerry ther money so it ’ud go safe.  Mebbe what she’s got hain’t nothin’ to some folks thet’s got hosses thet ken win ’em money at races, but—­”

The colonel abruptly ended the conversation, and approached the stage.  The colonel was very chivalrous, but Cranks’s sarcastic reference to Tipsie needed avenging, and as he could not consistently with business arrangements put an end to Cranks, the old lady would have to suffer.

“I beg your parding, ma’am,” said the colonel, raising his hat politely with one hand, while he reopened the coach-door with the other, “but we’re a-takin’ up a collection fur some very deservin’ object.  We wuz a-goin’ to make the gentlemen fork over the hull amount, but ez they hain’t got enough, we’ll hev to bother you.”