Upon the box sat an old jehu, Sandy Ellis by name, who had driven that vehicle for quarter of a century over that route.
He was a gray-whiskered old fellow, with a bony face and a long red nose, and his stage contained half a dozen people, who were excitedly discussing the stoppage and the meaning of that brilliant electric light.
"For the Lord's sake, boy, what's that you've got there–the sun?"
"Only an electric search-light," laughed Jack.
"But where's your team?"
"Don't need any for this electric stage."
"What's that–a sort of a trolley car?"
"Yes, without the overhead pole and wire."
"Thunderation! this beats everything! What do you want?"
"I wish to protect you from the James Boys."