We have spared him because we owe him some consideration for having been turned out of his house at the dead of night while the sheriff of Sierra was seeking us." He stopped, and then in an entirely different voice, and in a totally changed manner, said roughly, "Tumble in there, all of you, quick! And you, sir" (to Key),--"I'd advise you to ride outside.

Now, driver, raise so much as a rein or a whiplash until you hear the signal--and by God! you'll know what next." He stepped back, and seemed to be instantly swallowed up in the darkness; but the light of a solitary bull's-eye--the holder himself invisible--still showed the muzzles of the guns covering the driver.

There was a momentary stir of voices within the closed coach, but an angry roar of "Silence!" from the darkness hushed it.
The moments crept slowly by; all now were breathless.

Then a clear whistle rang from the distance, the light suddenly was extinguished, the leveled muzzles vanished with it, the driver's lash fell simultaneously on the backs of his horses, and the coach leaped forward.
The jolt nearly threw Key from the top, but a moment later it was still more difficult to keep his seat in the headlong fury of their progress.
Again and again the lash descended upon the maddened horses, until the whole coach seemed to leap, bound, and swerve with every stroke.

Cries of protest and even distress began to come from the interior, but the driver heeded it not.