After the dinner, and a good resting spell, they resumed their journey.  Now their road ran along the fertile valley, and again passing through a sharp defile in the mountains, and finally winding its way along a narrow ledge of rock, where the slightest turn to left or right, a single misstep of the sure-footed animals, or an awkward move of their driver, would have hurled them into an abyss hundreds of feet below, where instant and horrible death awaited them.

No accident befell them, however, and just as the sun was going down in a blaze of glory, behind the towering mountains into the west, they arrived at a ranch for supper and rest.

In the evening the moon came out, illuminating the landscape with a soft enchanting beauty, as its beams fell upon the tall mountain and the level plain, lighting up tree and flower, and flashing upon the river like a myriad of polished gems.  As they rode along, song and story enlivened the journey, and a draught or two from a wicker-covered flask which the detective carried, soon produced an era of good feeling between the outside passengers and the burly, good-natured driver.

“Have you ever been bothered with robbers or highwaymen along this route?” asked Manning of their driver during a lull in the conversation.

“Well, we used to be,” answered the fat fellow, with a quiet chuckle, as he cracked his whip unpleasantly near to the flank of the off leader, who was lagging a little; “but of late we haven’t seen anything of the kind.”

“Ever had any adventure with them yourself?” asked Manning in a coaxing tone, as he fancied he could see that the old fellow had a story which he could be induced to relate.

“Yes,” he answered, puffing quietly away at a cigar which Manning had given him.  “About a year ago I had a little experience up near Thompson’s place, which we will reach about ten o’clock, if we have no bad luck.”

“Let us hear it, won’t you?” asked one of the other passengers, now becoming interested.

“Well,” answered the driver, evidently pleased at finding himself an object of interest, “wait until we round this spur here, and then we’ll have a tolerable straight road ahead.  I don’t suppose, though, that you’ll find it very interesting.”

In a few moments they passed around the spur of the mountain, and the whole landscape was lighted up with a blaze of moonlight that flooded the scene with a radiance beautiful to behold.  No living habitation was within sight, and the rumble of the coach was the only sound that broke the stillness that brooded over the scene.

The driver settled himself back in his seat, and after a few preparatory coughs, and a swallow of brandy, to clear his throat, began his narration.

CHAPTER XX.

The Stage Driver’s Story.