"'I've a engagement in the Oriental S'loon,' he says, biddin' us
good-bye plenty cheerful, 'but I'll be back among you-all sports in
a week. I likes your ways a whole lot, an' I wants to learn 'em
some.'
"'Which I offers four to one,' says Jack Moore, lookin' after him as
he rides away, 'you'll be back yere sooner than that, an' you-all
won't know it none, at that.'
"It's the next day when the stage starts; Old Monte is crackin' his
whip in a hardened way, carin' nothin' for road agents as long as
they don't interfere with the licker traffic. Thar's only one
passenger.
"Shore enough, jest as it's closin' in some dark in Apache Canyon,
an' the stage is groanin' an' creakin' along on a up grade, thar's a
trio of hold-ups shows on the trail, an' the procession comes to a
halt. Old Monte sets the brake, wrops the reins about it, locks his
hands over his head, an' turns in to cuss. The hold-ups takes no
notice. They yanks down the Wells-Fargo chest, pulls off the letter
bag, accepts a watch an' a pocket-book from the gent inside, who's
scared an' shiverin' an' scroogin' back in the darkest corner, he's
that terror-bit, an' then they applies a few epithets to Old Monte
an' commands him to pull his freight.
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