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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Then come out!" The miner quickly threw open the stage door, put his foot upon the step and then peered cautiously toward his foe. Instantly there came a shot, and, without a moan, he pitched forward head foremost and fell in a heap between the wheels. "Any more?" called out the road-agent sternly. No answer came, and, revolvers in hand, he stepped to one side and opened fire at the coach.
Just afore she eh gits ter thet thick bunch eh underbrush, whar' the trail sorter eh drops down inter the ravine. An' you chumps wanter eh git yerselves up so she can't pipe any of ye off eh in this yere eh road-agent act. I tell ye, after what thet eh Moffat's bin a-pumpin' inter her, she's just got ter be eh rescued, an' in blame good style, er eh it ain't no go."
She just went at him like a blister, the Hen did; and she blistered him worse because she did it in her own funny way telling him she did just dote on stage-drivers, and if he really wanted to please her he'd take Hill's job regular; and leading the boys up to him and introducing him, lady-like, as "the hold-up hero"; and asking him to please to tell her all about that fourteen-foot road-agent he'd killed; and just rubbing the whole thing in on him every way she knowed how.
I came from Deadwood with Road-Agent Dick's party unknown to them, understand you. That answers two questions. The third is, I want to be around when there's any fun going on; and it's lucky I'm here now. I guess Dick has just got layed out by two fellows in the valley below here, and they've slid off with him over among the foot-hills yonder.
With skilful twist of his foot he sent a dismounted road-agent spinning over backward, and managed to wrench a revolver from his hand. There was a blaze of red flame, a cloud of smoke, six sharp reports, and a wild stampede of frantic horsemen.
He followed that with several modern serio-comic songs, all of which were received well and heartily applauded. "That recalls memories of good old times," said the road-agent, as he leaned back against the door-sill, and gazed at the mountains, grand, majestic, stupendous, and the starlit sky, azure, calm and serene. "Recalls the days of early boyhood, that were gay, pure, and happy. Ah! ho!"
"I don't want you around here this morning. That new dressmaker is coming." Jones rose abruptly from the table. "I reckon my business can wait. Hustle up, Dave." A few moments later, as they were saddling their horses, he lamented: "What did I tell you? Here I go, on the dodge from a dressmaker. I s'pose I've got to live like a road-agent now, till something happens."
The thought flashed across him that he must lose all he had with him, but his life he could not believe was in danger, yet why the masked road-agent had killed Dockery without mercy he could not understand. "Do you mean to take my life, man?" "That depends whether it is worth more to kill you than to let you live," was the businesslike reply.
That appears to me the part of a road-agent rather than a reformer, and it seems to me no amend for his service under Moorish princes that he should make war against them on his personal behalf or afterward under his own ungrateful king.
It was not believable that the Railroad would "jump" Los Muertos, but if this should happen, he would be left without resources. Ten thousand dollars! Could he raise the amount? Possibly. But to pay it out to a blackmailer! To be held up thus in road-agent fashion, without a single means of redress! Would it not cripple him financially? Genslinger could do his worst.
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