She then told just what she had decided upon.
“It will do, I think; but, if you decide upon another let me know in time,” said the man. “I shall need some money when I go, so do not forget to bring it the night of my escape.”
And thus these two parted again.
CHAPTER IX.
A VISITOR AT PIONEER POST.
Horseshoe Ned, the driver of the Overland coach running to and from Pioneer Post, drove into the fort with an all-important air toward sunset one evening, caused by having a lady seated upon the box with him.
She was attired in mourning, wearing a heavy crape veil which she drew over her face as she approached the gate in the stockade wall.
But Horseshoe Ned knew that it was a very beautiful face, with large eyes that were simply magnificent, though she hid them under a pair of eye-glasses when she drew her veil about her.
Who she was Horseshoe Ned did not know, more than that she had been transferred to his care by the driver who had had her in charge up to the station where his run ended.
“I say, Pard Ned, jist let yerself out in entertainin’ thet leddy, fer she are a sweet one and jist as perlite as kin be. She rides on the box right through, and wants ter know ther whole history o’ ther trail as we goes along. She are mournin’ fer somebody as is dead and gone, I guesses, from her dressin’ in black, and I feel sorry for her, for I sees away back in her eyes that she hain’t just happy, notwithstandin’ her pretty smile.”
So had said the driver who had given her into the charge of Horeshoe Ned, who replied: