"Waal, ef you gets kilt no other man in or out o' Last Chance will have ther grit to drive ther old death-trap, for thet hearse you is sittin' on is no more."
"It is an unlucky old vehicle, I admit, pard; but I'll be going," and Harding drove on once more.
He had not seen a soul at the Dead Line. All was as quiet at that dread spot as the forms of those who had lost their lives there.
Only the stockmen at the station greeted him on the way, and at night he came to the halting-cabin a little ahead of time.
He had the same story to tell at each one of the relay-stations, about the fate of old Huck, and an ominous shake of the head from those who listened convinced him that they expected him to be the next victim.
The next morning he rolled into W—— a few minutes ahead of time, and the stage-agent seemed surprised to see a new man upon the box.
He heard what Harding had to say of old Huck, listened to his report of his uneventful run, and received from him the way-bill of what he carried.
"You have done well, Mr. Harding, and I hope we will hear no more of these attacks, so that you may escape, for, if they make a victim of you, I do not know who we can look to unless it be that fearless fellow, Doctor Dick."
"And his practise, mining interests, and gambling occupy him so thoroughly that he will not drive again, sir, I am sure."
"Not unless no other can be found, for he is just the man to step in then in open defiance of danger."