"Come, men, and let us get to work."
Silently there came out of the thicket half a dozen men on foot, but all enveloped in black robes, wearing red masks, and with their feet clad in moccasins, while a quick glance at the hoofs of the horse ridden by the chief showed that he had muffles on, to prevent making a track.
The girl calmly surveyed the scene.
The half-dozen men appearing at the call of their chief seemed to be well trained, for two of them went to the heads of the horses, two more to either door of the coach, and the others awaited orders.
The horseman rode close up to the side of the coach, his hand upon his revolver.
"Harding, I see that you meditate resistance if opportunity offers, but let me warn you that you are a dead man the instant you make any attempt to escape or fire upon us. I would kill you now without the slightest hesitation, only I fear it would break up the line and travel to Last Chance, and that I do not wish. Dismount from that box, and, remember, my revolver covers you!"
Harding obeyed in sullen silence.
"Now, what freight have you on?"
"I have the mails, and this lady passenger, but, low as you are, you will not rob her, I hope."
"There was money sent through by you to Last Chance."