“Another lucky boy,” remarked Wild Bill, “is Tim Benson. He started that landslip, and I saw him running. But he was too far off for me to shoot at him; and by this time he must be miles from here.”
“Whether he is so very lucky or not will be told by and by,” said Buffalo Bill. “I still intend to get him.”
CHAPTER XXII.
TIM BENSON’S CLEVERNESS.
With Tim Benson at large a desperate fear lay on the town and on the trails.
Therefore, when Hank Elmore, stage driver, swung his horses round in front of the stage station, and bawled out, “All aboard fer Calumet Wells!” the response was disappointing.
A woman stepped out of the station, closely veiled, and carrying a large hand bag. Elmore dropped from his high seat and handed her into his vehicle. Both Elmore and the spectators knew that she was Miss Vera Bright.
“Nobody else wantin’ to take passage in this hyer hearse?” demanded Elmore, swinging round on his high-heeled boots. “Tim Benson ain’t goin’ to——”
A belated little man pushed his way hurriedly through the crowd.