cope with this "organized lawlessness" but it is to be feared that the
readers of "The Red Dog Clarion," however ready to lynch a horse thief,
were of the opinion that rich stage express companies were quite able to
take care of their own property.

It was with full cognizance of these facts and their uselessness to him
that the next morning Mr. Ned Brice turned from the road where the
coach had just halted on the previous night and approached the settler's
cabin. If a little less sanguine than he was in Yuba Bill's presence,
he was still doggedly inflexible in his design, whatever it might have
been, for he had not revealed it even to Yuba Bill. It was his own; it
was probably crude and youthful in its directness, but for that reason
it was probably more convincing than the vacillations of older counsel.

He paused a moment at the closed door, conscious, however, of some
hurried movement within which signified that his approach had been
observed. The door was opened, and disclosed only the old woman. The
same dogged expression was on her face as when he had last seen it,
with the addition of querulous expectancy. In reply to his polite
"Good-morning," she abruptly faced him with her hands still on the door.

"Ye kin stop right there! Ef yer want ter make any talk about this yar
robbery, ye might ez well skedaddle to oncet, for we ain't 'takin' any'
to-day!"

"I have no wish to talk about the robbery," said Brice quietly, "and as
far as I can prevent it, you will not be troubled by any questions. If
you doubt my word or the intentions of the company, perhaps you will
kindly read that."