The next moment he landed in a heap on the steep side-hill and rolled into a clump of brush, so badly jarred that he was unable to move. It was possibly a minute before he could realize what had happened to him. He sat up and looked around at a landscape that would not hold still. His eyes gradually regained their focus on objects and he got painfully to his feet. He was bruised all over and his face was bleeding from several cuts. He looked back at the grade, but was unable to see anything on account of the extreme angle. He remembered the flash he had had of the masked man. His holster was empty, but about half-way up to the grade he found his gun, wedged in the rocks. It was a stiff climb back to the grade, where he found Soapy trying to untangle his team. Soapy gawped at him and swore wonderingly. “By ——, I thought you was killed,” he told Brick. “I was,” panted Brick. “What in —— was it, Soapy? Was it a hold-up?” Soapy yanked the team straight on the grade. “Whoa! You ——ed rattle-brains! Was it a hold-up?” “Well, was it?” queried Brick, hanging to a rear wheel. “Git in,” ordered Soapy. “I can’t keep these ——ed hummin’-birds on the grade, if we don’t git goin’.” Brick climbed into the seat and Soapy got in beside him. The team started with a jerk and they rattled away toward the Red Hill mine. Brick noticed that Soapy’s jaw was set at a belligerent angle and that his profanity was even more cutting than usual. “Mind talkin’ about it?” queried Brick. “Yuh must remember that I unloaded early in the game, and all I got was a glimpse.” “You was pretty ——ed lucky, at that,” said Soapy. “Did yuh notice the stuff I had in the back of the rig? That old gunnysack and an old rug?” Brick glanced back. There was nothing in the rear of the buckboard now. “Yeah, I remember it, Soapy. Where’d it go?” “It didn’t go—it was taken. I’ve been held-up, by ——!” “Held-up? Then it was a——” “Appears that it was,” dryly. “Do yuh remember—” Soapy jerked the team to a slow trot—“do yuh remember me tellin’ yuh once that I was the biggest ——ed fool I had ever met?” “Yeah, I remember it,” grinned Brick, wiping some blood off his face. “Well, I ain’t been improvin’,” stated Soapy bitterly. “That old gunnysack and that old rug was concealin’ the monthly payroll of the Red Hill mine.” “Love of gosh!” exploded Brick. “The payroll? Why, Soapy, that must ’a’ been——” “Right dog-gone close to twenty-seven thousand dollars.” Brick caressed his bruised face and tried to collect his thoughts. “I’m smart,” said Soapy bitterly. “I was afraid to take a chance on the stage. Just one man, Brick; one man with a Winchester. He didn’t say much. By ——, I don’t think he said anythin’, come to think of it. “The team swerved into the bank, after you fell out, and I stopped ’em. He motioned for me to get out—and I got. He made me unbuckle my belt and drop it. Then he walked past me, kicked the belt and gun along with him and lifted the sack out of the buckboard.