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Updated: May 2, 2025
There was a sharp creaking as the brakes locked, and from the driver's seat an amazed oath. The stage stopped with a violent jerk, and Mrs. Truesdall pitched gently forward toward her niece. "I really believe I was asleep, Helen," she murmured. "What are we waiting for?" "I think we are held up," said Miss Post.
The road agent, apparently routed by these simple words, fled muttering toward his horse. Hunk Smith was having trouble with his brake. He kicked at it and, stooping, pulled at it, but the wheels did not move. Mrs. Truesdall fell into a fresh panic. "What is it now?" she called, miserably. Before he answered, Hunk Smith threw a quick glance toward the column of moving dust.
The salesman scrambled into the stage through the door opposite the one at which the Red Rider was standing, and the road agent again raised his sombrero with a sweeping gesture worthy of D'Artagnan. "Good-night, ladies," he said. "Good-night, sir," Mrs. Truesdall answered, grimly, but exuding a relieved sigh.
A minute later it was broken by the hoofs of a horse galloping swiftly along the trail to Kiowa City. That winter Miss Post had been going out a great deal more than was good for her, and when the spring came she broke down. The family doctor recommended Aiken, but an aunt of Miss Post's, Mrs. Truesdall, had been at Farmington with Mrs. "Colonel" Bolland, and urged visiting her instead.
"If ever I leave Fort Crockett," gasped Mrs. Truesdall between jolts, "I shall either wait until they build a railroad or walk." They had all but left the hills, and were approaching the level prairie. That they might see the better the flaps had been rolled up, and the soft dry air came freely through the open sides. The mules were straining over the last hill.
From behind him he heard Hunk Smith's voice answering his own in a cry for "Help!" and from a rapidly decreasing distance the throb of many hoofs. For an instant he drew upon his rein, and then, with a defiant chuckle, drove his spurs deep into his horse's side. Mrs. Truesdall also heard the pounding of many hoofs, as well as Hunk Smith's howls for help, and feared a fresh attack.
But instantly he stepped forward again, and brought his face so close to the window that they could see the whites of his eyes. "Before we part," he murmured, persuasively, "you wouldn't mind leaving me something as a souvenir, would you?" He turned the skull-like openings of the mask full upon Miss Post. Mrs. Truesdall exclaimed, hysterically: "Why, certainly not!" she cried.
You just go to sleep now, if you can, and trust to me. I'll get you there by eleven o'clock or break a trace. Breakin' a trace is all the danger there is, anyway," he added, cheerfully, "so don't fret." Miss Post could not resist saying to Mrs. Truesdall: "I told you he was joking." The stage had proceeded for two hours.
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