The three mounted ruffians, Zachary, Graves, and Carter, started on in advance of the coach. Southmayd and the boy sat with their guns across their knees, watching the motions of their suspected companions. It was near nightfall. Less than half a mile distant from the station, the robbers, who had been riding at an even pace, suddenly wheeled, and gave the command to halt, simultaneously with which, Southmayd levelled his gun upon Carter, and Caldwell and the boy theirs on the other two. Carter, stammering with alarm, made out to say, “We only want you to take a drink.” The bottle was passed around, Southmayd and Caldwell barely touching it to their lips. Handing it to the boy, Southmayd gave him an admonitory touch with his foot,—comprehending which, he did not drink. As Carter had not drunk from the bottle, Southmayd feared that the liquor had been poisoned. Returning the bottle, the roughs who received it inquired politely if they did not want any more. The three then wheeled their horses, exclaiming, “We’re off to Pete Daly’s,” and, clapping spurs to their horses, they were soon out of sight. The coach went on six miles, passed Daly’s ranche, and drew up at Lorrain’s. From this ranche to Virginia City, the road for most of the distance is rough, narrow, and lies through the cañon of Alder Gulch. Nature never formed a fitter stretch of country for successful robbery. Of this our passengers were fully aware, and, anticipating that the designs of the robbers must culminate on this part of the route, Southmayd took Caldwell aside to consult as to the proper course to pursue. “It’s a rough night’s work, Tom,” said Southmayd, “but the worst is to come. If they attack us in the cañon, there is no possible chance for escape.” “They’ll do it, sure,” replied Caldwell. “It’s only driving into their hands to attempt to go on to-night. Let’s leave the coach here and take to the brush. We may then avoid them; or if we meet, it will be where the chances are equal.” Buck Stinson, who had been on the watch for some new arrangement, overheard this conversation. Anxious as he was that the robbery and murder should take place, he knew that if the men escaped, as they assuredly would by the means contemplated, they would bring the whole community of Virginia City on the track of himself and his fellow ruffians. This must be avoided, even though they were frustrated in their design. So he stepped forward, and said to Southmayd and Caldwell in his blandest manner, “Gentlemen, I pledge you my word, my honor, and my life, that you will not be attacked between this place and Virginia City.” “If you mean that,” replied Southmayd, “we will go on; but if we are attacked, we will certainly make it hot for some of you.”