The other inmates raised their arms as commanded. “Get out,” shouted the robbers, “and hold up your hands. We’ll shoot every man who puts his down.” The passengers descended hurriedly to the ground and stood with their arms upraised, awaiting further orders. Turning to Rumsey, who remained on the box holding the reins, the robbers ordered him to get down, and remove the arms from the passengers. Not easily frightened, and anxious to escape a service so distasteful, Rumsey replied, “You must be fools to think I’m going to get down and let this team run away. You don’t want the team. It can do you no good.” “Get down,” said the robber spokesman with an oath as he levelled his gun at Rumsey, “or I’ll shoot the top of your head off.” “There’s a man,” said Rumsey, pointing to Bunton, “who is unarmed. Let him disarm the others.” “Oh!” replied Bunton in a lachrymose tone, “I’ll hold the horses—I’ll hold the horses, while you take off the pistols. Anything—anything, only don’t shoot me.” “Go then, and hold the horses, you long-legged coward,” said the robber; “and now,” he continued, levelling his gun at and addressing Rumsey, “get down at once, and do as you’ve been ordered, or you’ll be a dead man in half a minute.” The order was too peremptory to be disobeyed. Rumsey tied the reins to the brake-handle, and jumped to the ground. “Now take them arms off,” said the robber, “and be quick about it too.” Removing the two navy revolvers from “Bummer Dan,” Rumsey sidled off slowly, with the hope of getting a shot at the ruffians; but they, comprehending his design, ordered him to throw them on the ground. As the choice lay between obedience or death, he laid them down, and was proceeding very slowly to remove the pistols from the other passengers, with the hope that by some fortunate chance a company of horsemen or some friendly train would come to the rescue before the villains could complete their work. “Hurry up there,” shouted the robber. “Don’t keep us waiting all day.” After the passengers were freed of their arms, and the arms piled up near the road agents, the speaker of the two ordered Rumsey to relieve them of their purses. Bunton, who had all the time been petitioning for his life, took out his purse, and throwing it towards Rumsey, exclaimed, “There’s a hundred and twenty dollars,—all I have in the world. You’re welcome to it, only don’t kill me.” All this while, the men, not daring to drop their hands, directed Rumsey in his search for their purses. He had taken a sack of gold dust from Percy, one from Madison, and two from “Bummer Dan,” and supposed his work to be completed. “Have you got all?” inquired the robber. “All I could find,” replied Rumsey. Turning to Madison, the robber asked, pointing to the sacks, “Is that all you’ve got?” “No,” said Madison, nudging his pocket with his elbow, “there’s another in this pocket.”