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. CHAPTER XIV. THE WAY IT WAS DONE. The new driver drove the run to W--- for several round trips, and not once was he held up.