When Andy set out on his journey he intended to go to Tacoma by way of San Francisco, but found, as he proceeded, that he could go by the Northern Pacific as far as it was built, and proceed the rest of the way by stage and over Puget Sound. This seemed to him to afford greater variety, and he adopted the plan. Some hundreds of miles east of his destination he took the stage. It was rather a toilsome mode of traveling, but he obtained a good idea of the country through which he was passing. At that time stage robberies were frequent, nor have they wholly ceased now. Among the stage robbers who were most dreaded was a certain Dick Hawley, who had acquired a great reputation for daring, and was known to have been engaged in nearly twenty stage robberies. As they approached that part of the route in which he operated, there was a great anxiety manifested by the passengers, and especially by a thin, cadaverous-looking man from Ohio. "Do you think we shall meet Dick Hawley to-day, driver?" he asked. "I can't say, sir. I hope not." "How often have you met him?" "Three times." "Did he rob the stage every time?" "Yes." "Were there many passengers on board?" asked Andy. "Nearly ten every time." "And they allowed one man to rob them?" "Wait till you meet him," said the driver, shrugging his shoulders. "If he stops the stage I shall die of fright," said the cadaverous-looking man. "I know I shall." "Have you a good deal of money with you?" asked a fellow passenger. "I have ninety-seven dollars and a half," answered the other, soberly. "Better lose that than die! If you give it up, there won't be any danger of bodily injury." The cadaverous-looking man groaned, but did not reply. Gradually they ascended, for they were among the mountains, till they reached a narrow ledge or shelf scarcely wider than the stage. On one side there was a sheer descent of hundreds of feet, and great caution was requisite. Just at the highest point a horseman appeared around a curve and stationed himself directly in front of the stage, with a revolver pointed at the driver. "Stop and give up your money, or I fire!" he exclaimed. It was the dreaded highwayman, Dick Hawley. CHAPTER XXXIII. A SUDDEN TRAGEDY. The driver pulled up short. The passengers realized that something had happened, and the nervous man put his head out of the window. Instantly a change came over his face. "We are all dead men!" he groaned. "It is the highwayman!" Andy felt startled in spite of his pluck, and so did the other passengers. "I would jump out and confront the scoundrel," said a determined-looking man, "but there is no room. We are on the verge of a precipice." "What will happen?" exclaimed the cadaverous-looking man in an agony of terror. "I suppose we shall be robbed. That will be better than tumbling over the precipice." "Oh, why did I ever leave home?"