"Would have been more so, if the boys had got hold of you--Saint Anne!
but that fellow on the box is driving some."

The thud of the horses' feet under the lash, coupled with the reckless
lurching of the coach, ended all further attempt at conversation, and
the four passengers held on grimly, and stared out of the windows, as
if expecting every instant that some accident would hurl them headlong.
The frightened driver was apparently sparing neither whip nor tongue,
the galloping teams jerking the stage after them in a mad race up the
trail. Hamlin thrust his head out of the nearest window, but a sudden
lurch hurled him back, the coach taking a sharp curve on two wheels,
and coming down level once again with a bump which brought the whole
four together. The little Mexican started to scream out a Spanish
oath, but Hamlin gripped his throat before it was half uttered, while
Moylan pressed the girl back into her seat, bracing himself to hold her
firm.

"What the devil--" he began angrily, and then the careening coach
stopped as suddenly as though it had struck the bank, again tearing
loose their handhold on the seats and flinging them headlong. They
heard the creaking clamp of the brakes, the dancing of frightened
horses, a perfect volley of oaths, the crunch of feet as men leaped
from the top to the ground; then, all at once, the stage lurched
forward, swerving sharply to the left, and struck out across the flat
directly toward the bluff.

Hamlin struggled to the nearest window, and, grasping the sill to hold
himself upright, leaned out. He caught a momentary glimpse of two men
riding swiftly up the trail; the box above was empty, the wheelers