A few moments after the coach came in sight, and by the side of Horeshoe Ned a stranger sat upon the box.
“Ho, Surgeon Powell, how is yer, and you, too, Bill?” cried Horseshoe Ned, as the coach drew up to the two pards just as they came within sight of the fort.
“All right, thank you, Ned.”
“Have you seen any road-agents this trip?” asked the Surgeon Scout.
“You bet I ain’t on the run back, doctor, but I has a pilgrim inside who held me up when I was going east, as I guess Buffalo Bill told yer.”
“Yes, he told me what a dead shot your lady passenger proved to be.”
“Dead shot? Now I should remark but she is ther deadest of ther dead shots and no mistake. She’s one among a thousand, and no harm said agin’ t’others; but I guesses yer’ll hev ter doctor him up, sir, for he’s been in the hands o’ that old Pills at ther station, and maybe he don’t know much about doctorin’.”
“All right, Horseshoe Ned, I’ll do all I can for him; but you appear to have several passengers along on this run?”
“You bet I has, sir, three passengers besides ther outlaw who is crippled in both arms. This gent ridin’ with me I don’t know by name, or I’d interdooce yer.”
Thus urged, the man riding on the box with Horseshoe Ned said: