Buffalo Bill's Spy Trailer: or, The Stranger in Camp. Ingraham Prentiss
body of Brassy was removed to his cabin by those who were his friends, and all agreed that he had brought his sudden fate upon himself, as the first reason given, of his hatred to Buffalo Bill, was excuse enough for refusing him as a courier.
The saloon was closed, and the other gambling and drinking-places followed the example set and also closed their doors for the night, so that quiet soon rested in the mining-camp of Last Chance.
In the meanwhile Doctor Dick, accompanied by Wall and Harding, had gone to his quarters, where Loo Foo was found making a cup of tea, alone with the dead and wounded, and seemingly unmindful of the fact.
Entering the cabin the doctor drew the blanket back from the form of Dave Dockery and revealed to the two couriers the honest, brave face of the driver.
"Poor Dave! He is on his last trail now," he said softly, and seating himself at his table he hastily wrote two letters. One read:
"Dear Larry: Dave died soon after reaching my cabin. If you do not find trace of the outlaws by sunset, it would be well to return sooner, if you can get no clue whatever.
"I send Harding to Fort Faraway, with a note to Buffalo Bill, as I promised to do, if there was another hold-up on the Overland Trail.
"I had to kill Brassy to-night, but Ball will explain the circumstances.
"Get back to poor Dave's funeral at sunset to-morrow, if possible.
"I closed saloon to-night out of respect to Dave.
"The young passenger will be a madman if he recovers.
The note to Buffalo Bill told of the hold-up on the stage-trail, the death of one passenger, wounding of another, and killing of Dave Dockery, and closed with:
"Landlord Larry is on the trail of the outlaws, and all will be done to hunt them down that it is possible to do.
"I will drive the coach back on the run, and until another driver can be found.
"If you cannot come now, state what you think best to be done and it will be attended to.
The couriers left as soon as the letters were finished, and having seen them depart Doctor Dick went over to the hotel to get his supper, which Loo Foo had ordered for him, after which he returned, looked at his patient, gave him a dose of medicine, and, throwing himself upon his bed, was soon fast asleep, wholly oblivious it seemed of the dead man and the sufferer within a few feet of him.
CHAPTER VIII.
A STRANGE BURIAL
The courier on the trail of Landlord Larry found him and his half-hundred miners trailing the mountains and valleys over in search of some trace of the coming of the road-agents to the scene of the tragedy, and their going therefrom.
But the search of the evening before, and up to the arrival of Wall at noon, when they had gone into camp, had been wholly in vain.
Not a hoof-track could be found of the road-agents' horses, nor a place where they had lain in wait until the stage came along.
Landlord Larry was not one to waste energy upon impossibilities, and after reading Doctor Dick's letter he decided to return with his men to Last Chance.
They set out soon after the midday rest and arrived in Last Chance just as all was in readiness for the burial of Dave Dockery and Brassy, for a double funeral was to be had.
The landlord dismissed his men and went at once to the quarters of Doctor Dick, who greeted him warmly and asked:
"Any success?"
"Not a bit."
"Too bad."
"We could not find the photograph of a trail and to search longer was a waste of time, so as the men wished to go to Dave's funeral, I just came in."
"It was about all you could do under the circumstances, Larry."
"I see that they have got the corpse you furnished rigged out for burial too."
"Brassy?"
"Yes."
"Why not, for he has a number of friends?"
"Don't fear no trouble, do yer?"
"No, I think not, for Brassy prescribed for himself and I administered the medicine."
"Served him right for playing with edged tools."
"I will not say that, poor fellow, for life was dear to him; but he should have been more careful."
"We will go together to the burial."
"By all means, and I'll give my friends a hint to be ready if Brassy's pards go to showing an ugly mood, while you will go prepared, Doc?"
"I always am," was the laconic response.
"Now, how's yer sick man?"
"He will recover bodily, but never mentally I fear."
"I'm sorry," and Landlord Larry went to prepare for the burial.
In half an hour all was ready to start, and Doctor Dick and Landlord Larry were given the places of honor at the procession, or rather just following what was called "the band," and which consisted of a dozen men who sang, the leader alone playing on a cornet.
Following the doctor and Landlord Larry, came the eight men bearing the body of Dave Dockery on a litter on their shoulders.
The body was encased in a board coffin, and behind followed eight men carrying the body of Brassy.
Following were the miners, marching eight abreast, and in solid column, nearly a thousand men being in line, and among them were led the horses which Dave Dockery was wont to drive, his belt of arms, hat, and whip being carried on top of his coffin.
Up the cañon to the cemetery beneath the cliffs filed the column at funeral pace, keeping time to the splendid voices, that changed from air to air as they marched along, and which echoed and reechoed among the hills.
The burying-ground was reached, the bodies placed by the side of the graves dug for them, and Landlord Larry consigned them to their last resting-place by repeating the words of the burial service over them, no partiality being shown.
But when the coffin, with the weapons, hat, and whip of Dave Dockery was lowered into the grave, hundreds of bold, brawny men stepped forward and threw in upon it benches of wild flowers they had gathered, and when filled up, the little mound was covered from view by these sweet offerings of manly regard for the dead driver, while in strange contrast was the barren grave of Brassy, for his immediate friends had not thought of gathering flowers, there being no sentiment in his death.
Doctor Dick looked calmly on, and perhaps it was his stern, fearless mien that stayed the trouble that several of Brassy's pards seemed to have decided upon there in the sacred resting-place of the dead, perhaps the belief that they would be quickly sent to join their comrade, for they created no disturbance, only with a significant glance at the gold-king gambler turned and walked away with the bearing of men who would bide their time to avenge.
CHAPTER IX.
THE COURIER
The man who had volunteered to take the long and dangerous ride to Fort Faraway, to carry a letter to Buffalo Bill, had ridden along steadily after leaving Last Chance, until a couple of hours before day. Then he halted, staked his horse out, and, wrapping himself in his blanket, went to sleep.
For several hours he slept serenely, then awaking he cooked his breakfast and was soon again in the saddle.
He seemed to understand frontier craft perfectly, and to appreciate just what his horse could stand, so did not press him too hard.
Camping at nightfall, he was again on the trail at daybreak, and held steadily on during the day.
Another night-camp and he rode into Fort Faraway the next morning before the hour of noon.
He was directed at once to the quarters of Buffalo