288 WALL STREET AND THE WILDS 



"Why should I be?" he inquired. "Twice a 

 week two stage drivers stop to change horses." 



"Are those all the callers you have?" 



"No, I had another last week. He's out there 

 now," and Walker nodded toward a freshly made 

 grave nearby. 



"Yes, I heard of that from the driver. Tell 

 me the story yourself." 



"It was the man who drove you who told me 

 that he had passed a man on a tired horse who 

 was headed this way. He said the man was a 

 Mexican and he thought a murderer whom a 

 party were after, just a few miles back. Soon 

 after the driver left the man came along and as 

 he was sliding from his saddle to the ground I 

 took my rifle from the corner there to hold him 

 up but he was too quick for me and the bullet 

 that struck the jamb there came near being the 

 end of me. He didn't get a chance for another 

 shot." 



"You must have taken a quick aim yourself." 



"Didn't take any, fired from my hip, bullet 

 went through that plate on the belt you see hang- 



