Mr. Endsley, before mentioned, divides the old stage drivers in four classes, as follows: "(1) Awkward, slovenly, careless drivers, such as handled the whip and 'ribbons' so clumsily, and kept their teams so unseemly together, up hill, down grades and on the level, that it was painful to see them on the box. Typical of this class were Tom Frantz, Dan Boyer, Pete Null and Abe Halderman. (2) Cruel men--their cruelty amounting almost to brutality. This class seemed to take a fiendish delight in whipping, lashing and gashing horses. Wash Alridge and a big, burly driver by the name of Robinson, were types of the cruel class. (3) Careful, easy-going, common, every day kind of drivers--men who never made pretensions to fancy styles. They were such as John Bunting (Old Judy), Jim Reynolds, James Carroll (Flaxey), Blanchard (Hatchet Face), Billy Armor and Josh. Boyd. (4) Well dressed drivers, clean and neat in person, and men who regarded sitting down to a meal in shirt sleeves as _contra, bonos mores_. This class manipulated the whip and 'ribbons' scientifically, and sat on the box in a way that showed they were masters of the situation. Prominent in this class were John High, Pate Sides, Peter Halderman, 'Yankee' Thompson, Sam Jerome, Jim Moore," &c. In this latter class might be ranked David Gordon, James Burr, and others of the western end of the road. [Illustration: JOHN BUNTING.] Samuel Luman, still living in Cumberland, and in good health, was one of the best equipped stage drivers on the road. His experience covers many of the most exciting and interesting events in the road's history. He commenced his career as a stage driver in 1832, the same year that Alfred Bailes began as a wagoner. He tells of a collision with highwaymen in the mountains, which was attended by thrilling details. On the 12th of August, 1834, he was on the road between Piney Grove and Frostburg, with a mail and passenger coach going east. After nightfall, and at a point studded by a thick growth of pine trees, he was confronted by a party of foot-pads, five in number, and strange to relate, one a woman, bent on felony. The outlook was alarming. Luman carried no fire-arms, and there was but one weapon among his passengers, a small, brass pistol, not brought into requisition, as the sequel shows. The assailants had thrown across the road an obstruction like a rude fence, made of logs, stumps and brush. As Luman's trusty leaders approached the obstruction, one of the highwaymen stepped out from his cover and seized a bridle, and the coach was stopped. The assailant ordered Luman to descend from his seat and surrender his charge. This he very politely, but very decidedly declined to do. "What do you want?" queried Luman, with seeming innocency. "We are traders," was the response. "Well," rejoined Luman, coolly, "I have nothing to trade; I am satisfied with my trappings, and not desirous of exchanging them."