"Yes," he answered, puffing quietly away at a cigar which Manning had
given him. "About a year ago I had a little experience up near
Thompson's place, which we will reach about ten o'clock, if we have no
bad luck."
"Let us hear it, won't you?" asked one of the other passengers, now
becoming interested.
"Well," answered the driver, evidently pleased at finding himself an
object of interest, "wait until we round this spur here, and then we'll
have a tolerable straight road ahead. I don't suppose, though, that
you'll find it very interesting."
In a few moments they passed around the spur of the mountain, and the
whole landscape was lighted up with a blaze of moonlight that flooded
the scene with a radiance beautiful to behold. No living habitation was
within sight, and the rumble of the coach was the only sound that broke
the stillness that brooded over the scene.
The driver settled himself back in his seat, and after a few preparatory
coughs, and a swallow of brandy, to clear his throat, began his
narration.
CHAPTER XX.
The Stage Driver's Story.
"Well," said the driver, as he set his long-lashed whip into its socket,
and gathered up his reins in his left hand, in order to afford him an
opportunity to declaim more freely with his right, "you must know that
I've been drivin' on this line more than two years, and consequently I
know every inch of the route like a book.
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