_ CHAPTER XV. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
That even old Huckleberry had lost his grip on the trail, after reaching the top of the ridge, was soon evident, for, search as he might, he could find no trace of a track in the hard, rocky soil about them.
"We'll scatter, pards, and try ter find another place whar they has rested the'r loads, for they won't carry heavy weights far up this slope without restin'," he said.
So the party separated, and half an hour later a halloo from old Huck brought them together again.
There was another place where the road-agents had halted, for there were the three telltale spots of blood lying close together.
Again they separated on a search, but after hours spent in vain, they were forced to give it up, old Huck remarking:
"Thar is snow higher up, so it's no use, now."
Back to Last Chance the party reluctantly retraced their way, after they had eaten their noonday meal, and all hope of finding a clue to the retreat of the road-agents was given up, save by old Huckleberry, who each day went off on a hunt, though many were sure that it was a trail, not game, that he was hunting.
When at last the day came for him to start off on his run, he mounted his box without the slightest apparent reluctance, nodded good-by and drove off on his perilous journey.
There was much anxiety felt at Last Chance for his return, and a number talked of riding out to the Dead Line and meeting him, but this was not done, as a suggestion was made that the old man might not take it kindly, but look upon it as an interference, a belief that he was not able to take care of himself.
When, however, the time for his arrival came, and no stage appeared, men looked anxiously at each other and wondered if the old man was another victim to the road-agents' hunt for gold.
When an hour passed and there was no stage in sight, Doctor Dick said that he would mount his horse and go to see what was the matter. He was not allowed to go alone, for a score of mounted men at once followed him, and the ride was a rapid one to the Dead Line, for the coach was not met on the way.
Arriving at the Dead Line the coach loomed in sight. It was still, and dashing up the horses were found hitched to trees.
But not a soul was visible. The box was empty, and not a soul was found within.
Where was old Huck? That question could not be answered, and a search was at once begun.
Upon the stage-box blood was found. That looked very bad for old Huck.
Some one had hitched those horses to the trees surely, but who?
The coach, had evidently been searched, for the cushions were thrown out and the boot open, and yet, strange to say, the mail-bag had escaped the eyes of the searchers, being found by Landlord Larry where old Huck always hid it, in one of the cushions arranged for the purpose by the old man.
Who had been killed, or what the coach had been robbed of, was not revealed.
The party camped all night upon the scene, and a thorough search was made the next morning again for the missing driver.
Miles back on the trail had the miners ridden, and more, every rock and thicket by the way was thoroughly searched, yet all in vain.
At last the party were reluctantly compelled to give up further search for old Huck, be he dead or alive, for not the slightest clue could be found, and there was no trace of any trail whatever.
Doctor Dick mounted the box and drove the coach back to Last Chance, and the miners had knocked off work and were assembled to hear bad news, which the delay caused them to look for.
Landlord Larry and Doctor Dick at once held a consultation upon their return, and it was decided to send Harding again to Fort Faraway as a courier with a message to Buffalo Bill.
But when called upon to go, to the surprise of both, Harding refused.
"You went before, Pard Harding, so why refuse this time, when you know it is our duty to report, as agreed, to Buffalo Bill the attacks of the road-agents upon the coaches, that he may place the matter before the commandant?" said Doctor Dick, who was anxious to have the mysterious disappearance of old Huckleberry known.
"I went before, Doctor Dick, but I do not care to go again," was Harding's firm rejoinder.
"Do you fear to go?" asked Landlord Larry, with a smile.
"If you think that I am influenced by fear I will prove to the contrary," was the quiet rejoinder.
"By going?"
"No."
"How then?"
"Have you a driver to take the coach out to W---- on its next run, landlord?"
"No, unless Doctor Dick will kindly do so."
"I cannot," was the quick response of the doctor.
"Then I will," said the young miner.
"You?"
"Yes, landlord."
"Do you know how to drive?"
"I have driven six-in-hand often."
"When?"
"I drove wagons and ambulances in the army, and on one occasion drove the general with four-in-hand over four hundred miles of the worst country I ever saw."
"I guess you will do, then, and it is far easier to get a courier to go to the fort, than it is a driver for the coach."
"Yes, as if I go under, Pard Larry, I will be number five."
"Five?" asked the doctor meditatively.
"Yes; Bud Benton was one, Dave Dockery two, Doctor Dick number three, and old Huckleberry number four, so I will come in as
five."
"You are right."
"And you are in earnest, Harding?" asked the landlord.
"Certainly."
"You know all that you risk?"
"Thoroughly."
"Then I retract my words in asking you if you feared to go to the fort as courier, for your volunteering as driver proves that you fear nothing."
"All right. Pard Larry, let it go at that."
"Well, Harding, consider yourself engaged for the berth of driver, and be ready to take the coach out on its next run."
"You will find me on hand."
"And let me tell you that I am authorized to pay three times the regular wages."
"It will be acceptable."
"If you live to get it," was the suggestive response of Landlord Larry.
This having been settled upon, greatly to Larry's relief, he further talked with Doctor Dick, and it was decided that as old Huck had only disappeared, and the coach had not been robbed of the mails, they would send no report of the affair to Buffalo Bill, but wait and see how Harding came out with his drive.
The news soon spread about that Hal Harding had volunteered to drive the coach through to W---- and he at once became a hero in the camps, for those bold fellows always loved heroism in a man above all other qualities.
He was, however, regarded as a dead man beforehand, for that he would be killed seemed a foregone conclusion, and many felt pity for the fate that they felt assured would befall the handsome young miner.
But Harding seemed not to dread the drive in the least, but went on about his duties in his usual cheery way.
Sticking to the work in his mine he had found that it panned out richer than he had anticipated, and he already had partnership offers, and a good price if he would sell.
He had kept his eyes open, too, in his secret-service work for Buffalo Bill, and had noted down certain discoveries he had made of a suspicious nature, and also had the names of a few whom he considered worth while watching.
At last the day came for the coach to start out, and as nothing had been heard of old Huck, Hal Harding reported at the hotel ready to mount the box and drive through.
As he passed through the crowd he could not but hear several remarks that were made, one being:
"He is number five, and he is doomed also." _