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Close up to the side of the coach rides the daring young outlaw, his piercing orbs peering out from the eye-holes in his black mask, one hand clasping the bridle-reins the other a nickel-plated seven-shooter drawn back at full cock. "You do well to stop, Bill McGucken!" the road-agent, observes, reining in his steed. "I expected you hours ago, on time."
The extent to which that treason extended, the number of associates who were in the pay of their deadly enemies, was never known to the United Irish leaders; time has, however, long since "revealed the secrets of the prison-house," and we know now, that men they trusted with all their plans and hopes, such as McNally and McGucken, were quite as deep in the conspiracy to destroy them as Mr.
The driver trembled, and hesitated. "Get down!" again commanded the road-agent, leveling his revolver, "before I drop you." In terror McGucken made haste to scramble to the ground, where he stood with his teeth chattering and knees knocking together in a manner pitiable to see. "Ha, ha, ha!" That wild laugh of Deadwood Dick's made the welkin ring out a weird chorus.
I think I shall have to adopt you for awhile. Boys, haul down the two, and bind them securely." Accordingly, a rush was made upon the stage, and the two outside passengers. Down they were hauled, head over heels, and quickly secured by strong cords about the wrists and ankles. This done, Deadwood Dick turned to Bill McGucken, who had ventured to clamber to the seat of the coach.
The extent to which that treason extended, the number of associates who were in the pay of their deadly enemies, was never known to the United Irish leaders; time has, however, long since "revealed the secrets of the prison-house," and we know now, that men they trusted with all their plans and hopes, such as McNally and McGucken, were quite as deep in the conspiracy to destroy them as Mr.
The two passengers on top of the stage shiver with dread, and even old Bill McGucken peers around him, a trifle suspiciously.
"Bill McGucken, you should join the regular army, you are so brave. Ha, ha, ha!" And the laugh was taken up by the road-knights, concealed in the thicket, and swelled into a wild, boisterous shout. Poor McGucken trembled in his boots in abject terror, while those inside the coach were pretty well scared.
"Driver!" said the Prince of the Road, coolly, after the laugh, "go you to the passengers who grace this rickety shebang and take up a collection. You needn't cum to me wi' less'n five hundred ef ye don't want me to salt ye!" Bowing humble obeisance, McGucken took off his hat, and made for the stage door.
"Reckon w'en Bill McGucken can't drive ther thru-ter-Deadwood stage as gude as ther average, he'll suspend bizness, or hire you ter steer to his place." On, on rumbles the stage, down through a lower grade of the canyon, where no moonlight penetrates, and all is of Stygian darkness.
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