and saloon and mounted.

One passenger on my coach was acquainted with every man of them. They
were, however, true to my suspicions, a band of the notorious Quantrell
gang, the very ones who had made the raid on Lawrence and killed so many
people after robbing them. My passenger walked up to the gang and said,
"Come on, boys, let's all have a drink before you go." They all returned
with my passenger and drank, but I told the driver I did not want to
leave the coach and for him to grease it and I would fool around about
that so as to dispel suspicion that I was guarding my coach. Before we
were through with the coach the men came back and in my presence asked
the passenger if he believed the coach was worth robbing. "No," he said,
"I have not seen a sign of money." I told the boys that it wasn't worth
robbing, that there was not more than $10 in the safe and that it was
mine. I told him I didn't have much of a haul in the safe, but I said,
"Here's the key, you can go through it if you want to and satisfy
yourself." I laughed and talked with the balance of the boys as if
nothing unusual was taking place. One of the gang took the little old
iron safe, which was about eighteen inches square and weighing about 150
to 200 pounds, and put it on the seat of the coach and unlocked it. I
had it literally stuffed full of way bills, letters and such other
plunder, together with a little wallet of mine containing $10. The
robber took out the ten dollars and held it up, saying, "Is this what
you referred to, conductor?" I told him that it was. "Well," says he, "I
will not take that, it is not tempting enough." I thanked the
accommodating robber in my nicest way for having left me money to buy a
few dinners with after I got to Kansas City, and they left us. I was
fairly bursting with satisfaction. No one on the stage knew that I had
saved the $52,000 of Lucien Maxwell's. However, boy like, just before we
rolled into Kansas City I told the passengers about the money.