"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 a.s.sembled miners.

The crowd that gazed at Doctor d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sengers, 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 pa.s.sengers.

Arriving at the cabin Doctor d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, after swallowing a gla.s.s 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 d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sengers who had been killed?"

"They were."

"How do you mean?"

"They left W---- booked as pa.s.sengers, but reached Last Chance as dead-head road-agents."

"Now I begin to understand. It was your two pa.s.sengers 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: