“Perhaps, with the help of my friend, Mr. Larkin,” he added, “I might be a match for three.”

There was another burst of laughter, in which Luke could not help joining.

“I am afraid I could not help you much, Mr. Sprague,” he said.

“I think, Mr. Sprague,” said Colonel Braddon, “that you and I will have to do the fighting if any attack is made.  If our friend the minister had one of his sermons with him, perhaps that would scare away the highwaymen.”

“It would not be the first time they have had an effect on godless men,” answered the missionary, mildly, and there was another laugh, this time at the colonel’s expense.

“What takes you to the Black Hills, my young friend?” asked Colonel Braddon, addressing Luke.

Other passengers awaited Luke’s reply with interest.  It was unusual to find a boy of sixteen traveling alone in that region.

“I hope to make some money,” answered Luke, smiling.  “I suppose that is what we are all after.”

He didn’t think it wise to explain his errand fully.

“Are you going to dig for gold, Mr. Larkin?” asked Mortimer Sprague.  “It’s awfully dirty, don’t you know, and must be dreadfully hard on the back.”

“Probably I am more used to hard work than you, Mr. Sprague,” answered Luke.

“I never worked in my life,” admitted the dude.  “I really don’t know a shovel from a hoe.”

“Then, if I may be permitted to ask,” said Colonel Braddon, “what leads you to the Black Hills, Mr. Sprague?”

“I thought I’d better see something of the country, you know.  Besides, I had a bet with another feller about whether the hills were weally black, or not.  I bet him a dozen bottles of champagne that they were not black, after all.”

This statement was received with a round of laughter, which seemed to surprise Mr. Sprague, who gazed with mild wonder at his companions, saying:  “Weally, I can’t see what you fellers are laughing at.  I thought I’d better come myself, because the other feller might be color-blind, don’t you know.”

Here Mr. Sprague rubbed his hands and looked about him to see if his joke was appreciated.

“It seems to me that the expense of your journey will foot up considerably more than a dozen bottles of champagne,” said one of the passengers.

“Weally, I didn’t think of that.  You’ve got a great head, old fellow.  After all, a feller’s got to be somewhere, and, by Jove!—­ What’s that?”

This ejaculation was produced by the sudden sinking of the two left wheels in the mire in such a manner that the ponderous Colonel Braddon was thrown into Mr. Sprague’s lap.

“You see, I had to go somewhere,” said Braddon, humorously.

“Weally, I hope we sha’n’t get mixed,” gasped Sprague.  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather sit in your lap.”

“Just a little incident of travel, my dear sir,” said Braddon, laughing, as he resumed his proper seat.