Jack’s words came true, but none too soon. A few seconds more and they would have reached the curve, beyond which lay the bit of narrow road. A thrill ran through Jack’s frame as he drew tight on the reins and felt the tired animals slow up to a trot and then, obedient to his voice, come to a halt, sweating and trembling, with distended nostrils. Jack lost no time in riding round to the heads of the leaders and holding tightly on to them. But there was little fight left in the horses. Dragging the coach with its locked brake up that hill had thoroughly exhausted them; they seemed glad to rest. “Get out, boys!” shouted Jack. “Come and give me a hand to uncouple the traces. I don’t think they’ll run again, but we won’t take chances.” In an instant Ralph Stetson and Walt Phelps had sprung to the ground and one on either side of the coach were running forward to help Jack complete one of the bravest tasks a boy ever set himself to perform. Naturally, it was not till the horses were calmed down that they had a chance to talk. In the meantime the stage driver, whose name was Jed Hoster, had been revived and was found to be painfully but not seriously injured. He had been shot through the shoulder. We are not going to relate all that took place at that odd reunion in the heart of the Ragged Range, as the barren hills were called. Every one of my readers can picture for himself what a confusion of tongues reigned as the boys all tried to talk at once, and relate their many adventures since last they had met. After awhile the coach, with Captain Atkinson at the “ribbons” and Jack riding close alongside, was driven to a broad part of the road and then turned around, as San Mercedes was closer to the spot where the attack had occurred than was Go ’long. Captain Atkinson told the boys that he had not the least idea who the men that made the attack could have been, but surmised that they must have possessed information that the coach was carrying a consignment of gold dust from a desert mine for shipment at Go ’long. “Had it not been for your smart trick, Jack,” he declared, “we should never have got off as easily as we did.” A sharp lookout was kept all the way back to San Mercedes for another sight of the would–be robbers. But nothing more was seen of them, and the return journey was made without incident. There was much rejoicing in the camp of the Rangers over the safe return of Jack, and even Shorty appeared to be glad that the boy had come unscathed through so many perils. That was a gala night in camp. Songs and stories filled the time till far into the night. The three boys, who possessed remarkably good voices, sang several popular songs and were much applauded. At last they had to stop from sheer weariness. Each lad was anxious to go out on duty along the Rio Grande that same evening, but Captain Atkinson sternly forbade them doing so.