Experienced detectives have spent years in their efforts to apprehend a single criminal and then failed; moreover a discreet officer will sometimes avoid being shot, as that is a high price to pay for success. Experts sometimes accomplish no more and have a less enjoyable ride than I did; and being but a novice I had no grounds for regret. Cool reflection convinced us all that the lost property was of little value and not worth bringing back at best, while some optimists maintained that it was really very good riddance. CHAPTER XXX THE OVERLAND STAGE LINE In the past few months we had crawled many hundred miles with a slow moving ox train. Several weeks had the writer spent with a few intimate associates, while convoying a small horse-train. Possibly a thousand miles had he covered on horseback, often quite alone, with much opportunity for silent contemplation and an occasional resultant desire for better company than himself. Nearly two weeks had been passed in the heterogeneous but interesting companionship of the boarding-house mule train, with its peculiar vicissitudes. A time having arrived when return to the States seemed desirable, I decided, like many travelers, to conclude the season of travel on the highest scale of elegance possible, and incidentally to profit by the experience of still another form of transportation. Having at command the two hundred and fifty dollars required for the purchase of a ticket to the Missouri River, and possibly a sufficient margin to pay for the meals at the various stations, I booked by the swift-going Ben Holliday coaches, patronized generally, as I was informed, only by the wealthy, or by those whose business was sufficiently important to justify the outlay. To reach Denver, the first town on the route, required seven days and six nights of continuous travel with no avoidable stops except for meals and relays of horses. Naturally for this long ride the choice of seats was a matter of much importance. Any human being, in whom there remains any life whatever, desires now and then to change his position, also to secure an occasional doze without the risk of having his neck broken by a sudden jolt, while sleeping. The back seat with its ample head rest was, therefore, the first choice. I was compelled to take the middle seat, the least desirable. There being nine passengers, the three inside seats were occupied each by three persons, opportunity, however, being left for riding at times with the driver. At exactly eight-thirty o'clock on the morning of Thursday, October 25th, the driver was on his seat of the coach in front of the Salt Lake House. The baggage and mail had been carefully strapped into the boot on the rear, and the passengers were in their assigned places within.