Part 17 (2/2)

”Yes, I carried a pair of Colt's .45s with me for years,” replied the Westerner, with a reminiscent look in his eyes. ”Why, a couple of guns were as much a part of a man's dress in those days as a pair of shoes.

Every one carried them as a matter of course.”

”Did you ever have to use them?” asked Bert.

”Only once,” replied Mr. Melton. ”I never went looking for trouble, and it has been my experience, when you don't look for trouble, trouble seldom looks for you. But the one time I did have use for my a.r.s.enal made up for lost time.”

”Tell us about it, please,” chorused the boys, and Mr. Melton smiled at their eagerness as he lit another perfecto.

”Well,” he began, ”it was back in the old days before the time of the railroads, when stage coaches were the only carriers known. I was traveling to Fort Worth on business, and was finding the journey anything but a pleasant one. The coach was old and rickety, and the way it lurched and rolled reminded me of a small boat in a rough sea. It was a terrifically hot day, too, and the stinging alkali dust got down your throat and in your eyes until life seemed an unbearable burden. We had traveled steadily all the morning, and along toward afternoon most of the pa.s.sengers began to feel pretty sleepy, and dozed off. I was among the number. Suddenly I was awakened by a shout of 'hands up!' and found myself looking full into the muzzle of a blue barreled Colt, held in the hand of a masked man.

”There was nothing for it but to obey, seeing he had the drop on us, so up went our hands over our heads. There were six other pa.s.sengers in the coach, but if we had been sixteen we would have been no better off.

”As we gazed in a sort of fascination at the ugly-looking revolver, another masked man entered the coach and commenced systematically to relieve the pa.s.sengers of their valuables. I happened to be nearest the front of the coach, and so did not receive the benefit of his attentions at first. He had almost reached me when there was a commotion outside, and he straightened up to listen, all his senses on the alert.

”He was between me and the door in which his companion was standing. For the moment the man in the door could not get at me except through his comrade, and I resolved to grasp the opportunity. In a flash I had reached down into the breast of my coat and grasped the b.u.t.t of my revolver. Before the desperado in front of me could get his gun in action, I had fired. At the first shot he dropped to the ground and, as he fell, a bullet from the man in the doorway took my hat off. I pulled the trigger as fast as my fingers could work, and he did the same. I have only a confused recollection of smoke, flashes of flame, shouts and a dull shock in my left arm. In what must have been but a few seconds it was all over. With my own gun empty, I waited to see what would happen.

I knew that if by that time I hadn't killed the bandit, he had me at his mercy. And even with him disposed of, I fully expected to be plugged by the man outside who was holding the driver under guard.

”But he must have had a streak of yellow in him, for when he failed to see either of his comrades come out of the coach he concluded that they were either dead or prisoners, and made off as fast as his pony could carry him. By that time we pa.s.sengers had rushed out of the coach, and some of us began firing at the fugitive. But a revolver is not very accurate over two or three hundred feet, and I doubt if the desperado was even grazed. I was unable to shoot for, as I had realized by this time, my left arm was broken just above the elbow, and I was unable to load my gun.

”Well, finding that we could not hope to harm the fugitive, we returned to the coach. An examination of the two hold-ups showed that one, the man I had shot first, was dead. The other, who had guarded the door, was badly wounded and unconscious. One of the pa.s.sengers had been bored through the shoulder by a stray bullet, but was not hurt seriously.

”The driver bound up my arm after a fas.h.i.+on, and whipped up his horses.

It was after dark before we reached Fort Worth though, and by that time my arm was giving me a foretaste of what Hades must be. But there was a good doctor in the town, fortunately for me, and he fixed the arm up in fine fas.h.i.+on. And, believe me, I felt lucky to get off as easy as that.”

”I should think you would,” said Bert admiringly. ”It must have taken nerve to pull a gun under those conditions.”

”Well,” replied Mr. Melton, ”it was all on account of a watch I carried at that time. It was one I had had for years, and thought a lot of. The idea of losing that watch just made me desperate. I think if it hadn't been for that I would never have taken the chance.”

”And what happened to the man you wounded?” asked d.i.c.k.

”He gradually recovered,” replied Mr. Melton. ”The boys were going to hang him when he got well enough, but one night he broke jail and got away. They made up a posse and chased him through three counties, but never caught him. I imagine, though, that his liking for hold-ups suffered a severe check.”

”Very likely,” agreed Bert, ”but I'm glad you saved the watch, anyway.”

”So am I,” said Mr. Melton with a smile. ”Here it is now, if you'd care to see it.”

He pa.s.sed a handsome gold timepiece over to the boys, who admired it greatly. Then the talk turned to other subjects, and before they realized it, it was time for them to go.

Before leaving, however, they made Mr. Melton promise to visit the college the following afternoon. This he readily did, and the boys took their departure after saying a hearty good night to their Western friend.

CHAPTER XIII

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

TRUE to his promise, Mr. Melton made his appearance at the south end of the campus a little after three o'clock of the following day. The three friends were there to meet him, and they exchanged hearty greetings.

”There's so much we want to show you that we hardly know where to begin,” said Bert. ”What shall we show him first, fellows?”

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