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The fact that Dave Dockery had hinted in his note to Landlord Larry that he could possibly tell who the masked road-agent was, was a cause of considerable excitement to all, for it would doubtless fall on one in Last Chance to be the accused.
A hush fell upon the crowd as Doctor d.i.c.k entered, and the few who were gambling, for there were only a few that night, left their cards on the table to hear what would be said.
"Pards," said the doctor, in his courtly way, "I am just from my cabin, where I have left one of the wounded men dead, the other a madman."
A breathless silence followed these words, and then a voice broke it with:
"Doc, who is the dead man?"
"Dave Dockery."
A low murmur of regret and sorrow pa.s.sed over the crowd, and the doctor added:
"He died soon after reaching the cabin."
"And t'other, Doc?"
"The bullet struck him in the head, slightly fracturing the bone, I fear, indenting it and causing a loss of reason, which I fear may never return to him."
"Poor fellow! better be dead, like poor Dave," said one, and this view was the thought of all.
"Pards, prepare for Dave's funeral to-morrow, and out of respect for him, let us close the saloon to-night, for I know Landlord Larry would wish it so."
A general murmur of a.s.sent followed, and the doctor continued:
"I wish two men as couriers at once, one to carry a note to Landlord Larry, for he can go to the scene of the hold-up, and start on the trail from there as soon as it is light enough to see."
"I'll go, Doc," said a cheery voice, and a young man came forward.
"Thank you, Wall, go with me to my cabin and I'll give you the note.
Now, I wish a man to go as courier to Fort Faraway, and remember it is a dangerous and long ride."
"I hain't afeered of the danger, or the ride, Doc, so I'm yer man," said a burly fellow coming forward, and his words were greeted with a cheer.
Doctor d.i.c.k glanced at him and then said very calmly:
"Thank you, Bra.s.sy, but I do not care to accept your services."
"And just why?"
"In the first place, I desire to send a letter to Buffalo Bill, and you have expressed openly your hatred for him, and to some day even up on him for not allowing you to have your way in certain matters."
"I doesn't allow my hates to interfere with duty."
"I do not care to accept your services, Bra.s.sy."
"Now, I asks a reason why?"
"I have given you one."
"I wants another."
"Is this a demand?"
"It be."
"You shall have it."
"Then don't beat round the bush, but have the narve to come out with it like a man."
All looked at Bra.s.sy with amazement. He had been drinking and was reckless.
The doctor smiled, but answered complacently:
"I always answer a demand, Bra.s.sy, so will tell you frankly, that I would not trust you with any message whatever."
The words fell pat from the lips of the doctor, and there was no misunderstanding them, and Bra.s.sy did not, for with a yell he shouted:
"Yer shall eat them insultin' words, Doctor d.i.c.k!" and quick as action could be, he had drawn his revolver and fired.
The crowd had fallen back from about each man at Bra.s.sy's cry, and yet one man caught the bullet intended for the doctor in his shoulder.
It was not a second after the shot of Bra.s.sy's before the doctor's weapon rang out.
He had not expected Bra.s.sy to open fire so quickly, so was not prepared for defense; but he was just so little behind him in time, that before the man could pull trigger a second time, he fired, and his bullet went straight where aimed, between the eyes of the one he intended to kill, when he dropped his hand upon his revolver.
Bra.s.sy's pistol fired a second shot as he fell, but it was from the death clutch upon the trigger, and the bullet went over the heads of the crowd, while instantly was heard the doctor's quiet tones:
"Come, men, who volunteers as courier to Faraway?"
A young man stepped promptly forward and answered:
"I was a soldier at Faraway, sir, and know the trail. I will go."
"You are the very man, Harding; come with Wall to my cabin. Good night, gentlemen, and remember, I pay the expenses of Bra.s.sy's funeral, so do not be mean in his burial outfit."
With this Doctor d.i.c.k raised his sombrero and left the saloon, his admirers being still more impressed with his nerve and bearing after what had occurred.
The body of Bra.s.sy was removed to his cabin by those who were his friends, and all agreed that he had brought his sudden fate upon himself, as the first reason given, of his hatred to Buffalo Bill, was excuse enough for refusing him as a courier.
The saloon was closed, and the other gambling and drinking-places followed the example set and also closed their doors for the night, so that quiet soon rested in the mining-camp of Last Chance.
In the meanwhile Doctor d.i.c.k, accompanied by Wall and Harding, had gone to his quarters, where Loo Foo was found making a cup of tea, alone with the dead and wounded, and seemingly unmindful of the fact.
Entering the cabin the doctor drew the blanket back from the form of Dave Dockery and revealed to the two couriers the honest, brave face of the driver.
"Poor Dave! He is on his last trail now," he said softly, and seating himself at his table he hastily wrote two letters. One read:
"DEAR LARRY: Dave died soon after reaching my cabin. If you do not find trace of the outlaws by sunset, it would be well to return sooner, if you can get no clue whatever.