A FAIR PASSENGER.
Harding had ridden rapidly upon the trail back toward the night relay,
for he felt sure that the agent was right in his conjecture that the
party of wild fellows who had left W---- had intended to hold him up on
the trail the next day when he came along.
In fact, the slip of paper he had picked up at the Dead Line had been a
warning to that effect, and hence he had dared take the drive at night,
hoping thus to elude his foes, and had been successful.
When he reached the trail where the party had turned off to camp, they
soon came upon their halting-place, and as the ashes of their fire was
cold, it proved that they had departed before having breakfast there.
"Something frightened them off," said Harding. "But I wonder they did
not hear my wheels, camping as they did this near to the stage-trail."
"They kept no watch, doubtless; but will you follow them?"
"Yes, to the relay-station at least."
Arriving there, for their trail had been lost in the rocky soil, Harding
found that the men had not passed, so they turned back for W----,
arriving there by nightfall.
The coaches that came in from the South and East the next morning
brought valuable mail for Last Chance, and, to the surprise of all, a
lady passenger. She was young and veiled, but enough was seen of her
face to reveal its beauty.
She was dressed in perfect keeping for one on a long journey, and
carried only a small trunk with her. She told the station-agent that her
name was Celeste Seldon, and that she had come West for a double
purpose, searching for her father, and one other whom she was most
anxious to find.
The last she had heard of her father was in a letter dated from W----,
and a secret communication, also mailed from W----, was the last tidings
received from the second person she sought.
"I wrote you, Mr. Agent," she said in her sweet way, "asking about a
young man, Bernard Brandon by name, who had come West upon a special
mission. You replied that he had been to W---- and gone on from here to
Last Chance, a mining-camp, and though I have written there, no response
came, so I decided to come myself and investigate. Have you heard
anything more of Mr. Brandon?"
The agent looked troubled and, seeing it, she said quickly:
"You have heard of him, so I beg you to tell me all."
"I regret to say, miss, that he was wounded on his way to Last Chance,
shot by road-agents; but here is Harding, the driver of the Last Chance
coach, and he can tell you all."
Harding did not appear to like having to give pain to the young girl,
but he frankly told her of the wound of the young man, who could be no
other than Bernard Brandon, and the pitiful result.
"I will go to him. When do you start, sir?"
"This afternoon, miss; but the trail is a very dangerous one, and I had
better bring him back with me."
"No, I will go with you and I will speak for the box-seat, if it is not
engaged."
"Oh, no; no seats are engaged, for all dread the trail between here and
Last Chance."
"I do not, so I ride with you, sir, on the box-seat," was the determined
reply of the young girl.
She paid her fare, and when the coach started, after having dinner at
the agent's, mounted to the box with Harding's aid, and took her seat by
the young driver, while the crowd yelled lustily as they drove off to
face the dangers of the trail.
Harding drove off with the air of one who felt his full responsibility
in having the care of a young and beautiful girl, who dared risk the
dangerous road he had to travel.
He found that his fair companion, as soon as she left the settlement,
was very beautiful, for she removed her veil when only having to be
gazed upon by one person, and that one a very handsome young miner.
It did not take her very long to discover that her companion, though
driving an Overland coach, was above the average she had thus far met
with among the Western wilds, for he was polite, well-informed, and his
courage was proven by what he was then doing; for Miss Seldon had been
told by the agent just what trouble they had had on the line.
The night relay was reached, and as there had been no expectation of
ever accommodating young ladies, no provision had been made for them, so
Harding and the stock-tender yielded the cabin to the fair passenger,
while they occupied a shanty near-by.
The stock-tender exerted himself to make her comfortable, and to provide
the best supper and breakfast his larder would allow.
"What a surprise they will get in Last Chance when they see her, pard.
Why, them miners will make a goddess of her, whatever that may be," said
the stock-tender.
"Yes, if we only get through, pard, for do you know I am more anxious
now than when I am alone?"
"Why is that?"
"Well, I have my reasons; but let me tell you that I mean fight on this
run if we are held up," and the eyes of the young driver flashed fire.
The next morning the coach started upon its way half an hour earlier
than usual, and Harding pushed his horses along at a far faster pace
than they were accustomed to.
For some reason he seemed anxious to get by the Dead Line far ahead of
time, and to push on into Last Chance with all speed that was possible.
He found his fair charge most entertaining, and she asked him all about
life in the wild West, and he was surprised to discover how much she
knew of the frontier and its characters.
She spoke of army officers known to her well by name, mentioned Buffalo
Bill as a hero well known in the East, and seemed anxious to glean all
the information she could of the strange country into which she had
ventured.
At last she touched upon the cause of her coming, and her face saddened
as she said:
"It grieves me deeply to learn of the sad result of Mr. Brandon's wound,
though I cannot but feel, as you say that he is bodily strong, that
something can be done to restore his mind.
"He came here on a mission for me, to find my father, who, I will
confess to you, was driven West by pretended friends and false
misrepresentations that kept him here, as though he had been the veriest
criminal hiding from justice.
"But it is not so, and I long to find my father and restore him to his
home and those who love him. Have you ever heard of him here?--his name
was Andrew Seldon."
"No, Miss Seldon, I never have heard the name, that I now recall. Where
was he when last you heard of him?"
"Seven letters came into my possession long after they were written, for
I have not seen my father for seven long years, and I was a little girl
then, and the last of those letters was mailed at W----.
"In it he stated that he had been in the mining country, had been most
successful, and would come home within a year or two. But this letter
did not come to my hands directly, and it was answered by others, his
enemies and mine, and so I, upon learning the truth, and of a cruel plot
against him and myself, got Mr. Brandon to come and look him up that he
might know all.
"As a dread came, upon receiving the agent's letter, that harm had
befallen Mr. Brandon, I decided to come at once to the West myself, for
I was reared on a plantation, am a good rider, have been inured to
hardships and can handle firearms when there is need for them, so I was
fitted for just such a trip as I am now taking; but here I am making a
confidant of you, Mr. Harding, when I should be keeping my own counsel."
"Oh, no, I am glad to know more of you, and it may be in my power to aid
you, for I will gladly do all I can."
"I feel that, and we will be friends; but why do you look so anxious?"
"Do I?"
"Yes, you do."
"Well, to be candid, I am anxious for your sake, not mine, for I
half-dread trouble on this run, and we are nearing the scene of several
tragedies which the miners call the Dead Line. Will you not ride in the
coach now?"
"No; I take all chances with you and remain where I am," was the plucky
reply of Celeste Seldon.