Forty-one Thieves | Page 5

old boy,
George Williams. The robber ordered these to stand upon the log,
whereupon little George, in great trepidation, exclaimed,
"Good Mr. Robber, don't shoot, and I will do anything you tell me!"
About this time one barrel of the robber's gun was accidentally

discharged into the log, and he remarked:
"That was damned careless," and immediately reloaded with buckshot.
At length the stage came along; and promptly holding it up, he tossed
the driver a sack, directing him to put his gold dust therein. This done,
he sent each separate vehicle upon its way as cool as a marshal on dress
parade.
With Nevada City only four miles away, the cañon of the South Yuba
safely passed, and the stage bowling along over an easy road, it seemed
a good story.
"Halt!"
Two masked men emerged from behind a stump by the roadside, and
Charley Chu drew his revolver. The passengers in a panic took it away
from him. Mat Bailey pulled up his horses.
While one robber covered Mat, the other covered the passengers, who
at his command lined themselves up by the roadside with hands raised.
Cummins got out on the side of the stage opposite the robber; and but
for the duster, buttoned from chin to ankles, he would have had the
dead wood on that robber. It was not to be; and Cummins, hands in air,
joined his helpless companions. The robber then proceeded to rifle the
baggage. Charley Chu lost his five hundred dollars. Mat Bailey gave up
the leather bag from Moore's Flat.
"Whose is this?" demanded the robber, laying his hand on Cummins'
old valise. As if hypnotized, Mamie Slocum answered,
"That is Mr. Cummins'."
The robber seized it. Cummins exclaimed: "It is all I have in the world,
and I will defend it with my life." With that he seized the robber,
overpowered him, and went down with him into the dust. If only there
had been one brave man among those cowards!

"Is there no one to help me?" shouted Cummins; but no one stirred.
In the gold regions of California each man is for himself. To prevent
trouble his fellow-passengers had disarmed the Chinaman. The other
robber, seeing his partner overpowered, passed quickly along in front
of the line of passengers, placed his gun at Cummins' head, and fired.
The struggle had not lasted fifteen seconds when Will Cummins lay
murdered by the roadside.
CHAPTER III
The Girl or the Gold
Cummins was killed about one o'clock. Two hours later two
prospectors, in conventional blue shirts and trousers, each with a pack
over his back, were seen in the neighborhood of Scott's Flat. They
excited no suspicion, as no one at Scott's Flat had heard anything about
the hold-up; and even if news had come, there was nothing suspicious
in the appearance of these men. They had looked out for that. As a
matter of precaution they had provided themselves a change of clothing
and their prospectors' outfit. By common consent they had very little to
say to each other; for they knew that a careless word might betray them.
They were in a desperate hurry to reach Gold Run or Dutch Flat to
catch the evening train East; but from their motions you would not have
suspected this. They followed the trails across country at the usual
swinging gait of honest men, and they knew they had six hours to make
fifteen miles over the hills. They passed near Quaker Hill, Red Dog,
and You Bet, keeping away from people as much as they dared to, but
not obviously avoiding anyone.
At You Bet, Gold Run and Dutch Flat they had taken the precaution to
show themselves for several days past; so that no one should notice
their reappearance. They were not unknown in this region, and there
were men at You Bet who could have identified them as Nevada City
jail-birds. There was O'Leary, for example, who had been in jail with
them. But in a country filled with gamblers and sporting men, where
the chief end of man is to get gold and to enjoy it forever, it is not

deemed polite to enquire too closely into people's antecedents. These
men, evidently native-born Americans, bore the good Anglo-Saxon
names of Collins and Darcy. What more could you ask? They perspired
freely, and their packs were evidently heavy; but men who collect
specimens of quartz are likely to carry heavy packs, and the day was
hot.
At You Bet the men separated, Darcy striking out for Gold Run with all
the gold, and Collins making for Dutch Flat, which is farther up the
railroad. This was to throw the railroad men off the scent, for news of
the murder had probably been telegraphed to all railroad stations in the
vicinity.