At last it reached them and the driver rumbled a hoarse greeting. "How
goes it, pards," he said, "an' what's the good word?"
"That's just what we were going to ask you," said Bert with a friendly
smile. "We've been hearing a lot lately of the expected redskin uprising,
and we wanted to know if you had a line on the real situation, Buck. Is
there anything really doing, or is it all just talk?"
"I dunno," answered the driver, "some says yes an' some says no, but
if you want my honest opinion I'd say thet the Injuns ain't got nerve
enough to start trouble no more. Why, they're so all-fired meek an' lowly
thet----"
Zip! A bullet whizzed through the sultry air and whirled the stage
driver's slouch hat from his head. Zip! Zip! Zip! and the air was alive
with the whine and drone of bullets.
"Hold-ups, by the 'tarnal," yelled the driver, accompanying his words
with a whirl of oaths. "Down behind the coach, Sam!" addressing the
guard, who always rode beside him on the box with loaded rifle; "we'll
stand 'em off, or I'm a greaser."
The guard leaped down behind the coach at the same moment that Bert and
Dick and Tom made for the same shelter.
Pages:
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164