He had fitted this up more comfortably, and said that he felt perfectly at home there, while on his return from W—— he had led his horse back behind the coach, wishing to have him at Last Chance, where his stay was always two weeks, for there was only a day's stop at the other end of the run.
He was wont to go on long hunts, mounted upon Rawbones, as he called his horse, and he kept Landlord Larry well supplied with game.
One day as old Huckleberry was returning to Last Chance, and neared the Dead Line, the scene of the other hold-up, he suddenly threw his rifle to his shoulder and sent a shower of buckshot into a thicket ahead.
A rifle-bullet from the other barrel was sent to the other side, and the whip was brought down upon his team in a way that put them into a run.
Seeing them well started he threw the reins over the brake and with a revolver in each hand opened a fusillade on both sides of the trail, while he called out to his passengers:
"Blaze away into the bushes, durn yer, for thar is game thar ter kill!"
All this had not taken over half a dozen seconds, and that there was "game" in the thickets, and dangerous game at that, was proven by hearing several loud cries of pain, and stern orders given, while men were seen hunting shelter from the unexpected fusillade opened upon them.
There were eight passengers in the coach, and, urged by the old driver, several of them obeyed and opened fire from the windows.
The result was that where road-agents had been lying in wait for the coach, and were just about to show themselves and command a halt, they were taken completely by surprise and forced to seek shelter from the leaden messengers flying about them.
The rapid fire caused the road-agents to believe that there was a coach full of soldiers, that a trap was prepared for them, and ere they could rally and their leader could convince them that it was not so, the coach had gone by the Dead Line and was going along the pass at the full speed of its horses, the reins now in the hands of old Huck once more.