be war this time for sure."

The men on the box looked at each other questioningly.

"I don't see no use tryin' to go on, Jake, do you?" asked the driver
soberly. "Even if we do git through, thar ain't no hosses to be had."

The other shook his head, rubbing his gun-stock.

"Most likely those same red devils are layin' for us now somewhar
between yere an' Low Water; whar the trail runs in between them two big
rocks, most probable," he concluded. "Not havin' no ha'r to lose, I 'm
fer goin' back."

With an oath of relief, the driver released his brake, and skilfully
swung the leaders around, the coach groaning as it took the sharp turn.
The man on the ground caught a swiftly passing glimpse of the young
woman's face within, and strode hurriedly forward as the coach started.

"Hold on there, pardner," he commanded sternly. "This poor bronc'
won't travel another mile. There 's plenty of room for me inside, and
I 'll turn the tired devil loose. Hold on, I say!"

The driver once again slapped on the brake, growling and reluctant, his
anxious eyes searching the trail in both directions. Hamlin quietly
uncinched his saddle, flinging it to the coach roof; the bridle
followed, and then, with a slap on the haunch of the released animal,
he strode to the stage door, thrust his Henry rifle within, and took
the vacant seat beside Gonzales. With a sudden crack of the driver's
whip the four horses leaped forward, and the coach careened on the