"Well," answered the driver, evidently pleased at finding himself an object of interest, "wait until we round this spur here, and then we'll have a tolerable straight road ahead. I don't suppose, though, that you'll find it very interesting." In a few moments they passed around the spur of the mountain, and the whole landscape was lighted up with a blaze of moonlight that flooded the scene with a radiance beautiful to behold. No living habitation was within sight, and the rumble of the coach was the only sound that broke the stillness that brooded over the scene. The driver settled himself back in his seat, and after a few preparatory coughs, and a swallow of brandy, to clear his throat, began his narration. CHAPTER XX. The Stage Driver's Story. "Well," said the driver, as he set his long-lashed whip into its socket, and gathered up his reins in his left hand, in order to afford him an opportunity to declaim more freely with his right, "you must know that I've been drivin' on this line more than two years, and consequently I know every inch of the route like a book. I must own, though, that I didn't know quite as much at the time I speak of. The driver whose place I took when I came on to the road, had been pretty badly used up in a scrimmage with the bandits about a week before, and I didn't like the prospects, you may be sure; but as I was out of a job, I took this, and I made up my mind when I I commenced, never to put my head in the way of a robber's bullet, if I could help it." "That's the case with most of you, isn't it?" said Manning, good-naturedly. "What makes you think so?" inquired the driver, quizzically. "Why, the ease and success with which stage coaches have usually been robbed," was the reply. "Well, I'll tell you," he answered, good-humoredly, and not the least disturbed by Manning's quiet reflection on the bravery of stage drivers in general. "When a fellow has to manage four tolerably skittish horses with both hands full of leather, he haint much time to fool around huntin' shootin' irons, 'specially when he's got to look down into the muzzle of a repeater which is likely to go off and hurt somebody." "Do you think these stage robbers, as a rule, are disposed to kill anybody?" asked Manning. "Why, sir," answered the driver, "they would just as soon kill a stage driver as eat their breakfast, and they know how to handle a rifle, too, let me tell you." "There's something in that reasoning," replied Manning, laughingly. "But go on with your story." "Well," continued the driver, "I had made several trips and had met with no trouble or accident, so I began to think the gang had gone away from these parts, and that there was no danger to be feared. However, I still carried a brace of good revolvers in a handy place, just to make sure I was safe; though, Lord bless you, I knew I couldn't get at them in time to do any good, if the robbers did attack us.