CHAPTER X.
DOCTOR DICK'S DRIVE
A pall seemed to have fallen over Last Chance, in the death of Dave Dockery, and its life began to flag in gloom. Seeing this, and fearing that the hold-up of the coach might injure the mines, Landlord Larry decided to get up a scheme to attract outsiders to the mines, and so the rumor went out of a large find of gold in one of the cañons near the town.
A couple of miners only were put there to work it, and the claim was known as the Doctor Dick Mine, as the gold king at once bought from the landlord a half-interest in it.
This news stirred the miners to increased exertions in their own mines, and also caused prospectors to go out on the search for new "finds."
The wounded passenger continued to steadily improve bodily, under the skill and kind care of Doctor Dick, but his mind was a wreck, and no one believed that he would ever regain his reason.
Doctor Dick hinted at an operation some day that might relieve the pressure upon the brain, yet spoke of it also as an experiment and a dangerous one, only to be tried as a last resort.
The man was as docile as a child, gave no trouble, and simply sat about whittling sticks into the shape of a revolver.
At last the week passed by, when the stage was to start again upon its run eastward.
A number of miners had volunteered as an escort, but Doctor Dick said he would drive on the run out and come back as a passenger; and he did not expect trouble, so would not accept an armed escort.
The night before the stage was to start, Harding, the courier to Fort Faraway, returned. He brought with him a letter from Buffalo Bill to Doctor Dick, and another for Landlord Larry, stating that the troops at the fort were pressed just then with extra duty, as the Indians were in an angry mood, and for them to do what they could for the protection of the coaches until Major Randall could investigate and patrol the trail.
Harding had little to say of his visit to the fort, more than to hint that the soldiers were too much occupied just then with their own affairs to care much for the killing of a stage-driver and couple of passengers.
As no Government funds had been taken by the outlaws, the miners would have to look to their own protection, for a while at least.
The courier also stated that there were stories at the fort of secret finds of gold in and about Last Chance, and he would give up his intention, expressed some time before, of selling out his mining interests, and instead, stick to hard work, in the hope of striking it rich in the end.
The next morning the coach was to start, and as it was to go out at an early hour many of the miners decided to remain up all night gambling in order to see it leave; for it would be the Sabbath day, when they could rest.
Doctor Dick had been too busy of late with his patient and other matters to devote much time to gambling, and so he also decided to make a night of it at the gambling-tables.
When the dawn came many regretted that he had done so, for never had he played more recklessly, and never before had he been such a large winner, for luck seemed to go his way from the start.
Play what game he might he was a winner, and going from table to table he "broke the combination," as one of the miners expressed it.
The dawn was at hand when he went to his cabin for a bath, and in half an hour he came back to the hotel for breakfast, looking little like a man who had passed the night over a gambling-table.
He was dressed in his best, was well armed, and coming out from a hearty breakfast lighted a cigar, and mounted to the stage-box at a single bound, an act that gained for him a cheer upon his agility.
"All ready, Landlord Larry," he called out as he gathered up the reins, and the answer was:
"No passengers, mails aboard, go!"
Doctor Dick gathered up the reins in a way that showed him a master of the art of driving.
He looked very dashing and handsome, as he sat on the box, his long hair falling upon his shoulders and his face showing no dread of what he might have to encounter upon his run.
With a wave of the hand at the word, "go," he gave his whip-lash a quick whirl, and made the crack resound like a pistol-shot.
The six horses bounded forward, and a wild yell of admiration of the volunteer driver's pluck went up from the crowd.
As the coach rolled down the valley the miners came out from their cabins and gave him a cheer, and it was a constant yell along the line until he had left the last camp behind him.
The six fine horses had been sent along at a rapid pace until the camps were left behind, the doctor showing his great skill as a driver in dashing over places, and around corners where others had found it safer to go slow; but when the last cabin disappeared the team was brought down to a jog, for the way was long before them.
The scene of the last tragedy was passed at a walk, the doctor glancing calmly at the spot where Dave Dockery had lost his life, along with his passengers.
The first relay was made, and the stock-tender there, who had heard the news of the hold-up from Landlord Larry's men when searching for the road-agents, expressed pleasure at seeing the coach come in safe and with Doctor Dick upon the box.
"Anything suspicious about, pard?" asked the doctor.
"No, sir, hain't seen a man around since poor Dave went by on the last run, which was his last run on earth."
"Yes, poor fellow, he is gone."
"You doesn't mean ter say that yer is going ter drive ther run, Doc?"
"Only on this trip, pard, for I have other work to do; but there was no one at Last Chance to take the coach out, so I volunteered."
"And you has the nerve ter run through, while yer handles ther ribbons as though yer was born on a stage-box. But yer'll find drivers scarce at t'other end, Doctor Dick, or I'm greatly mistook."
"I hope not;" and the fresh team being ready, the doctor pushed on once more.
The second relay-station was reached at noon, and here Doctor Dick had his dinner.
He had come over the worst part of the road, as far as danger from attack was concerned, but had fifty miles yet before him, where a halt was always made for the night, as there was a cañon there to go through which could only be driven in daylight, and the relay of horses taken in the morning had to pull on into the station at the end of the ran for the driver on the Last Chance end of the line.
But the doctor reached what was known as Cañon-end Station soon after dark, and after supper turned in in one of the cots in the cabin provided for passengers, and was soon fast asleep.
He was up at an early hour, had breakfast, lighted his cigar, and with a spanking fine team took the perilous run through the cañon at a trot, driving the twenty miles that ended his run in a little over three hours.
The stage rolling in at a brisk pace to the station at W – , was greeted with cheers, for the news had come from Fort Faraway the day before of Dave Dockery's death, the killing of one passenger, wounding of another, and the robbery of the coach.
The brave man who had dared drive through was greeted with cheers, but he had hardly dismounted from the box when he was informed that he would have to drive back, as there was no driver there who would take the risk at any price.
Other drivers had been sent for, men who were afraid of nothing, but no one had yet been found who would drive the run to Last Chance, which had been set down in the frontier vocabulary as the Sure-death Trail.
CHAPTER XI.
RUNNING THE GANTLET
Doctor Dick agreed to drive the coach back on condition that the driver who came to take charge should come on to Last Chance on horseback and be ready to come back with it.
He had shown that he did not fear the drive, but his business and professional duties demanded that he should be at Last Chance, and there he must remain.
He was secretly told by the agent that there was a valuable mail to go through in registered letters, and asked if he dared risk carrying them.
"By all means, sir, for I am driving to do my full duty," was the answer.
So the mail was made up, and at the last moment two passengers applied for seats.
They were strangers in W – , but said they were going to Last Chance to work in the mines, and they were accordingly given seats upon the box, as they preferred to ride outside.
Then the coach started on its return to Last Chance with Doctor Dick still holding the reins.
Having driven over the run once, and knowing what his relay teams could do, he started out to make the regular time on the run.
But there was alarm felt at Last Chance when half an hour had passed over schedule-time and the coach did not put in an appearance, and nothing was seen of it on the three miles of trail visible down the valley.
When an hour had passed the anxiety became great, for all conjectured that Doctor Dick had met the fate of Bud Benton and Dave Dockery.
Some said that the delay was because the doctor was new on the road, and this appeared to be a reasonable explanation, but Landlord Larry grew more and more anxious, and at last decided to go out with a party on a search for the delayed coach.
But, just as the men were told to get their horses, a shout arose down the valley that the coach was approaching, and soon after a cloud of dust was visible drifting along the stage-trail.
A shout arose, for it showed that at least some one was there, whatever had happened, to drive the coach in.
Then those who had said the delay was caused by the doctor being new to the trail began to crow, but only for a while, as Landlord Larry, who was gazing through a field-glass at the approaching stage, called out:
"There are only four horses – two are missing, for some reason."
It was now all conjecture as to the cause of delay. Again Landlord Larry had something to say, and it was to the effect that the coach was not dashing along with its accustomed speed in coming in at the end of the trail, that Doctor Dick was on the box, and alone, while he seemed to drive in a very careful manner, very different from his going away on his drive out.
Nearer and nearer came the coach up the valley, every eye upon it, and all wondering, guessing, and asserting their views of what had happened.
"The doctor is there, that is certain," said one.
"Two horses have been killed," another remarked.
"He may have lost them in the bad roads," was an answer.
"Perhaps they were shot down by road-agents."
"He has no passengers."
"See how he drives."
"He comes on as slow as a snail."
"See, he is driving with one hand."
"What does that mean?"
"His left hand is hanging by his side."
"He has surely been wounded."
And so the comments ran around, as all stood watching the coming coach, which half an hour after coming in sight rolled up to the hotel, came to a halt and was greeted with a wild chorus of cheers from the assembled miners.
The crowd that gazed at Doctor Dick saw that his handsome face was very pale, his eyes had a haggard look, and his teeth were firmly set. They knew that he had passed through some dread ordeal, and a silence fell upon all, awaiting for him to speak.
They saw that his left arm was carried in a sling, his handkerchief knotted around his neck, and that a red stain was upon his sleeve. Furthermore, they saw that the two wheel-horses were missing, the center pair having been put back in their place.
Upon opening the stage door to see if there were any passengers, Landlord Larry started back as the dead form of a man pitched out on his head.
The door being open it was seen that a second form was in the coach, all in a heap in one corner.
There were red stains upon the steps, and upon the leather cushions, and everything indicated that the stage had run a death-gantlet.
But, excepting for his pale, stern face, the doctor was as serene as a May morn, though his voice showed weakness when he spoke.
"I'll ask your aid, landlord, for I am weakened from loss of blood. Bind my arm up to stop the flow and I'll see how serious the wound is."
He said no more, but was at once aided from the box and over to his cabin, Landlord Larry leaving his clerk to look after the mails and the dead passengers.
Arriving at the cabin Doctor Dick had his coat-sleeve slit open and the bandage he had tied about his arm removed.
His silk shirt-sleeve was also cut, and then the wound was revealed in the fleshy part of the arm.
Taking a probe from his case Doctor Dick, after swallowing a glass of brandy, coolly probed the wound, found the ball, and, aided by Loo Foo, the Chinee, under his direction, soon extracted the bullet.
Then the wound was skilfully dressed, the arm rested in a sling, and Doctor Dick lolling back in his easy chair asked with the greatest coolness:
"Well, Landlord Larry, how goes all at Last Chance?"
The landlord was amazed at the calmness of the man, and said quickly:
"Oh, Last Chance is O. K.; but it is your run that we are dying to hear about, Doc."
"Well, it was a close call for me, Larry, I admit, for I found foes where I expected friends."
"You were held up?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"At what you have very appropriately named the Dead Line, Larry."
"The place where Bud and Dave were killed?"
"Yes."
"It was the masked road-agents?"
"Not this time."
"Ah! who then?"
"I did not form their acquaintance by name, but perhaps a search of the bodies may reveal."
"You killed them?"
"Two."
"Where are the bodies?"
"I brought them along in the coach."
"I thought they were passengers who had been killed?"
"They were."
"How do you mean?"
"They left W – booked as passengers, but reached Last Chance as dead-head road-agents."
"Now I begin to understand. It was your two passengers who attacked you?"
"Just so."
"It is a wonder that they did not kill you."
"They would easily have done so, had I not suspected them: but I grew suspicious, and without appearing to do so, watched their every look and move. When we drew near the Dead Line, they said they would lie down on top of the coach and rest, so they spread their blankets and did so.
"I thought this strange, as just before I had told them we were approaching the scene of the hold-ups. But I kept my eye upon them, and, as we neared the cliff, the sun shone brightly down and I distinctly saw the shadows of the two men as they arose and drew their revolvers.
"I drew mine as quick as a flash, turned, and caught this shot in the arm, while a second bullet whizzed by my head."
CHAPTER XII.
A MAN'S NERVE
The doctor paused in his story, as though recalling the thrilling scene which had so nearly cost him his life, and a sad look came into his eyes as though he felt that his mission seemed ever to kill.
So lost was he in thought, that Landlord Larry had to recall him to his story by saying:
"It was a very close call for you, Doc."
"A close call indeed, and, but for the shadows on the cliff, revealing the hostility of my two passengers, my death would have followed. But my discovery of their intention, and quickness in facing them, disconcerted them both, destroying their aim, close as they were to me."
"They did not fire again?"
"Oh, yes; several shots, two of which killed my wheelers; but I got in my work by firing two shots, also."
"Killing them?"
"Yes, for you will find my bullet-brands in their foreheads. The horses had started forward at the shots, and as the wheelers fell, the coach gave a lurch which sent the two men from the top to the ground just as I fired on them.
"I quieted my team, and first bound my arm up as tightly as I could to stop the flow of blood, and then, dismounting, picked up the two dead men, threw them into the coach, and drove on.
"Of course my wounded arm gave me more and more trouble, and I could drive only very slowly with one hand, and hence my delay in arrival. But I got in without being robbed, which I am very glad of, for there is a large registered mail on this run.
"Now I will have Loo Foo fetch me some supper and retire, for I am about played out, and you can search the two men and let me know the result in the morning. But one minute – how is my patient?"
"Bodily all right, but his mind, as you said would be the case, is gone."
"Poor fellow! Good night, Larry, and hurry Loo Foo over with my supper, please."
Landlord Larry bade Doctor Dick good night and departed, more than ever impressed with the idea that the gold king gambler was a very remarkable man.
Going to his hotel Landlord Larry found nearly every denizen of Last Chance awaiting him, and a suppressed excitement was apparent in all.
The two bodies had been taken into the hotel office, to await the coming of the landlord, and there they lay covered with a blanket. The moment Landlord Larry was seen, coming from the cabin of Doctor Dick, cries arose of:
"Speech! speech!
"Tell the news, landlord!" and so on.
Larry mounted to the piazza of the hotel and in a few words told the story of Doctor Dick's running the gantlet and the nerve he had shown in the ordeal he had passed through.
"Oh, he's got ther narve of Old Nick, as we all knows," cried a miner, and this intended compliment was acquiesced in by one and all.
Having learned the news the miners adjourned to the saloons and the toasts for the next few hours were to:
"Doctor Dick, a man o' narve from Wayback."
Until a late hour the miners drank and gambled, and then, toward dawn, quiet reigned in the camps, broken only now and then by a yell from some man who was too full of liquor to go to sleep.
The next morning, greatly to the delight of all, Doctor Dick appeared at breakfast and received an ovation. Loo Foo had dressed his wounded arm, and though sore, it was all right, Doctor Dick said, yet he was pale from loss of blood.
After breakfast he mounted his horse and took the rounds to see his patients, and everywhere he was greeted with a welcome that could not but flatter him.
But the two weeks before date for the return of the coach – for the runs were semimonthly – passed away and no driver appeared from W – to take the stage out. It began to look very much as though Doctor Dick would have to again take the reins.
The search of the dead bodies of the two road-agents had revealed nothing as to their identity, for, excepting their weapons, a little money, some odds and ends in their pockets, they had nothing of value about them, and they were buried at the expense of Doctor Dick, who would have it so, as he very laconically remarked:
"As I killed them, I should pay their expenses when they are unable to do so."
At last the day for the starting of the coach came round, and Doctor Dick, as no one else volunteered, expressed his willingness to take the reins, though he remarked:
"This will be the last run I shall make, so you must get a man here, Landlord Larry, to go, if I do not bring one back with me from W – ."
And once more Doctor Dick rolled away with a cheer from his admirers.
CHAPTER XIII.
A VOLUNTEER
Doctor Dick had an uneventful run to W – , and arrived without accident or delay on time at the end of his journey. He was well received, but the stage-agent told him that not a volunteer had put in an appearance for the place of driver. Double the price had been offered, but there were no takers, and the agent added:
"You must find some daredevil at Last Chance who is willing to risk his life upon the box, while rest assured, Doctor Dick, I have reported your noble service for the company in its need and it will be appreciated."
"I do not care for pay, or thanks, only I wish to be relieved of a duty I do not like, especially as it interferes with my own work," was the answer.
Just before the time came for the starting of the coach a horseman rode up and dismounted at the stage office. He was an odd-looking individual, tall, but with a hump on his back, awkward in gait, and dressed in buckskin leggings and hunting-shirt.
His hair was long, very long, bushy, and would have been white but for its soiled appearance, and he had it cropped, or banged in front like an Indian, or fashionable young miss, to keep it out of his eyes.
His face was clean-shaven, but the hue of leather, and he wore a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles.
His slouch-hat was worn in reality, for the rim fell down upon his shoulders, save in front where the flap was turned up and fastened with an army-button.
He was armed with a pair of old, but serviceable revolvers, an ugly-looking bowie-knife with a deer-horn handle, and a combined rifle and shotgun, double-barreled.
His horse was as queer as his master in appearance, being a large, raw-boned animal, with patches of hair upon him, a long tangled mane and tail, and he was unshod, though his hoofs looked as tough as iron.
The saddle was also a back number, and the stake-rope served for a bridle as well. A lariat hung at the saddle-horn, also a hatchet, and in a large rubber blanket was rolled his bedding, while a bag contained a coffee-pot, frying-pan, tin cup, plate, and some provisions.
He looked the crowd over as he drew rein, and asked quietly:
"Who's boss o' this layout?"
"I am," and the stage-agent stepped forward.
"I hears thet yer wants a man ter drive yer old hearse on ther trail ter Last Chance and back."
"I do."
"I'm yer huckleberry."
"You?"
"Yas, me."
"Are you a driver?"
"Ef I wasn't I'd not be sich a durned fool as ter trust myself on a two-story hearse, pard."
"Who sent you here?"
"Nobody, for I hain't one ter be sent."
"Where did you come from?"
"Ther up-country, whar I has been trappin', huntin', prospectin', and killin' a Injin or two – see!"
"And now you wish to turn stage-driver?"
"If it pays what they told me at Fort Faraway I does."
"The pay is good; but have you no references?"
"Yas."
"Where are they?"
"Here."
The old man put his hands upon his revolvers and drew them with a lightninglike motion that surprised the lookers-on.
"They are pretty good references on a pinch, and you may have cause to use them if you drive this trail."
"I has used them before, and I guess I kin do it ag'in," was the quiet response.
"When could you begin?"
"Now."
"What is your name?"
"Old Huckleberry, but the boys calls me old Huck for short; but durn ther name, call me what yer wants ter, and I'll be thar."
"Well, Pard Huckleberry, I rather like your style, and have a mind to give you a trial."
"Ef yer kin do better, don't do it; but if yer can't, count on me, for as I said afore, I'm yer huckleberry, and ready for the game."
Doctor Dick had been closely looking at the old volunteer and said something in a whisper to the stage-agent, who at once said:
"I'll take you, and the time for starting is almost up."
"I'm ready, only take care of my horse at my expense," and the volunteer dismounted ready for work.
When old Huckleberry mounted the stage-box, Doctor Dick yielded to him the reins, which he seized in a somewhat awkward manner, yet with the air of one who knew just what to do; took the whip, gave it a resounding crack, and started off at a brisk pace.
There were four passengers inside, all miners going to Last Chance, lured there by the rumor of richer mines having been found, for the stories were circulating more and more that there were rich finds being discovered there every day.
"That man knows how to handle the reins as well as the best of them, old though he may be, and a trifle awkward," said the stage-agent, as he saw the volunteer driver sending his team along, at a slapping pace, in spite of the fact that the trail was none of the best along there.
The coach soon disappeared from the sight of those at W – , made the night halt on time, and as soon as he had had his supper the new driver wrapped himself in his blankets and threw himself down outdoors, declining the invitation of the stock-tender to sleep in the cabin.
He was on his box on time the next morning, and with Doctor Dick by his side, went off on his run.
He was a man disposed to silence, for he did not speak often, unless Doctor Dick addressed him. But he would ask now and then about the trails, and showed some interest in the gambler-king's stories of the different road-agents' attacks upon the way to Last Chance.
He greeted the stock-tenders at the relay-stations pleasantly, said he hoped to be with them for some time, and kept the team at the pace set for schedule-time.
Passing the scenes of the several tragedies, he drew rein for a few minutes and attentively regarded the surroundings, but drove on again without a word of comment.
Doctor Dick had become more and more interested in the strange driver, had told him all he could about the trail, the time to make going and coming, and was anxious to have him make no mistakes, he said.
He tried to draw him out time and again, but in vain. All he could learn from him was that he had lived for many years upon the frontier and preferred to do so for reasons best known to himself.
He said he was trapper, Indian-fighter, hunter, and prospector, that was all, and he tried to do his duty in every work he undertook. More he would not say of himself, and the doctor gave up trying to "pump" him.
When the coach came in sight of Last Chance, old Huckleberry showed no satisfaction at having made the run in safety, or excitement at driving in for the first time.
He quickened the pace of his team, handled his reins with a skill that won the admiration, as he had all along, of Doctor Dick, and at last came to a halt before the hotel with a whoop and the words:
"Here we be, boss!"
Doctor Dick introduced old Huckleberry from the box, as soon as the cheer that greeted their arrival had died away.
"Pards, I is glad ter know yer, and I greets yer," and with this old Huckleberry dismounted from the box and asked at once for the "feed-room."
He ate his supper with a relish, smoked his pipe, and, declining a bed in the hotel, saying it would smother him to sleep in between walls, took an ax and hatchet, with a few nails, and, going up on the hillside where there was a thicket, soon built for himself a wickiup that would keep him sheltered even in a storm.
He carried his few traps there, and then stuck up a notice which read: "Old Huckleberry's Claim."
Having completed his quarters, he strolled about among the saloons and gambling-dens, watched the playing, but neither drank nor gambled, and at last, tiring of looking on, went to his roost and turned in for the night, an object of curiosity to all, yet also of admiration, for a man who would volunteer to drive the coach over that trail was one to command respect in Last Chance.