so comes by stage same as other gents.
"`It all goes smooth ontil I'm rattlin' along in Rawhide Canyon not half-a-dozen miles from where we-alls is now drinkin' all free an'
amiable, like life's nothin' but sunshine.
"'The first p'inter I has that I'm up ag'inst it, bang! goes a Winchester, an' throws my off leader dead ag'inst the trail.Thar's no goin' 'round the dead hoss, an' bar the nacheral rarin' an'
pitchin' of the other five on beholdin' of the ontimely end of their companion that a-way, the whole business comes to a dead stop.
"'"Hold up your hands!" says a voice up the rocks on one side.
"'My hands is already up, for I'm an old stage-driver, gents, an'
you-alls can gamble I knows my trade.I'm hired to drive.It ain't no part of my game to fight hold-ups an' stand off route-agents that a-way, an' get shot dead for it by their pards the next trip; so, as I says, the moment that Winchester goes off, I clamps my fingers back of my head an' sets thar.Of course I talks back at this hold-up a heap profane, for I don't aim to have the name of allowin' any gent to rustle my stage an' me not cuss him out."'But these yere Wells-Fargo sharps, they never holds up their hands.That's nacheral enough, for them gents is hired to fight, an' this partic'lar trip thar's full six thousand dollars to go to war over.
"With the first shot the Wells-Fargo gents--they was game as goats both of 'em--slides offen the coach an' takes to shootin'.The guns is makin' a high old rattle of it, an' I'm hopin' the hold-up won't get to over-shootin' an' drill me, when the first casooalty occurs.
One of the Wells-Fargo sports gets a bullet plumb through his frame, an' is dead an' out in the crack of a whip.
"'It looks like the hold-up sees him tumble, for it's then he cuts loose a whoop, jumps down onto the trail an' charges.He comes a-shootin', too, an' the way the lead an' fire fetches forth from that Winchester he's managin' shore reminds me of them Roman candles last July.
"'All this yere don't take ten seconds.An' it don't last ten seconds more.As my hold-up comes chargin' an' shootin' towards the stage, I overhears a scream inside, an' the next moment that young female passenger opens the door an' comes scamperin' out.
"'If she tries she couldn't have selected no worse epock.She hits the ground, an' the second she does--for I'm lookin' over at her at the time--she stops one of that hold-up's bullets an' goes down with a great cry.
"'It's on me, gents, at this p'int to take all resks an' go down an'
look-out the play for the girl.But I never gets a chance, an' it's as well I don't; for towards the last the shootin' of the remainin'
Wells-Fargo person is reckless an' inordinate.It's plumb reedundant; that shootin' is.But as I remarks, I never has no occasion to go to the girl; for as I feels the impulse I hears the hold-up shout:
"'"God! it's Mary! It's my sister!"
"'Thar's a letter on him we finds later, which shows this statement about my passenger bein' his sister is troo; an' that she's p'intin'
out when downed, now they's orphans--which the letter states their father's jest cashed in--to come an' keep house for him.As the hold-up makes this yere exclamation about the girl bein' his relative that a-way, his Winchester goes a-rattlin' onto the trail an' he gathers her in his arms.However, he don't last longer than a drink of whiskey now.He don't no more'n lift her up, before even he kisses her, the remainin' Wells-Fargo gent downs him, an' the riot's over complete.
"'Three killed an' none wounded is how results stacks up; an' after me an' the live Wells-Fargo gent cl'ars the dead leader outen the trail, we-alls lays out the remainders inside all peaceful, an'
comes a-curvin' on to Wolfville.It's then, as we puts 'em in the coach, I sees that my hold-up's that onfortunate felon, Slim Jim.
Which I was shorely astonished.I says to the Wells-Fargo gent, as we looks at Slim Jim:
"'"Pard, the drinks is due from me on this.If I has a week to guess in, I'd never said 'Slim Jim.'"
