What more alarming summons can be imagined than that which rang from the darkness in front of the stage, as it was slowly its way through Black Bear Swamp?  
The lightning which had toyed with them before seemed to do so again, for the impenetrable night was not lit up by the first quiver or flutter of the intense fire.
 
“Are you ready to shoot?” asked the driver, turning his head and speaking in guarded tones.
 
“My gracious, no!” replied Wagstaff, as well as he could between his teeth; “I can’t see him.”
 
“He’s right there in the middle of the road; don’t hit one of the horses—what are you trying to do?”
 
It was plain enough what the youth was doing; he was crawling under the seat, the difficulty of doing so being increased by the body of Jim, who was ahead of him in seeking the refuge.
 
“I aint going to fire when there’s no chance of hitting him,” Tom, still twisting and edging his way out of reach.
 
“But the lightning will show him to you in a minute.”
 
“Let it show and be hanged! I’ve got enough; I surrender.”
 
The words had been spoken hastily, and Tom and Jim did not throw away any seconds in groping for cover, but, brief as was the time, the terrible fellow in the middle of the road became impatient.
 
“Are all them hands up?” he roared, “or shall I open fire?”
 
“My two passengers are under the seat, but they won’t hurt you—”
 
The driver checked himself for a moment and then exclaimed, loud enough for the youths to hear:
 
“He’s coming into the !”
 
“Heavens! don’t let him do that,” protested Jim; “he’ll kill us all; tell him we surrender and won’t shoot.”
 
“Where’s them young men that were going to fire so quick?” demanded the fellow, hurriedly climbing into the front of the stage; “let me have a chance at them!”
 
“It wasn’t us,” called back Wagstaff, “we haven’t anything against you; take all we’ve got, only spare us; you can have our guns and pistols and our money, and everything we have—”
 
He ceased his appeal, for at that moment he heard some one laugh.
 
A suspicion of the truth came over him, but before he could frame an explanation, Bill Lenman and the man who had just joined the party broke into uproarious mirth.
 
The youths saw how they had been sold. There was no train robber. Ethan Durrell had played the part of the heavy in order to test the courage of these vaunting lads. The driver tried to him from the trick, afraid of the risk , but, as it proved, he was never in any danger.
 
The boys crept back from their , and, resuming their seat in front, saw that it was useless to deny the in which they were placed.
 
“I don’t see anything smart in a trick like that,” said Tom, angrily; “some folks have queer ideas of a joke.”
 
“It’s lucky for you,” added Jim, “that the lightning didn’t show you to us; I had my gun aimed and was just ready to fire, but couldn’t see clear enough to make sure of dropping you at the first shot.”
 
“All that I was afeared of,” said the driver, “was that you would hit one of the horses, and that’s what you would have done.”
 
“It would have served you right if I had.”
 
“But it would have been a job for you, young man.”
 
The team had resumed its progress and the violent flurry of the elements began . The flashes were less frequent, though they appeared often enough to show the course of the stage, as the animals pressed on at a moderate walk.
 
The driver and the New Englander were more considerate than most persons would have been under the circumstances, for they forebore the youths, whom they had at their mercy. Tom and Jim were resentful enough to have used violence toward Durrell, who bad turned the tables so cleverly on them; but the manner in which he did it gave them a fear of the wiry fellow from down East.
 
“Then,” said Tom, addressing the driver, “that was all stuff that you told us about seeing a suspicious person in these woods.”
 
“No, sir, it was all true,” was the unexpected reply.
 
This statement instantly awoke interest again in the question, for even Durrell had supposed the driver was playing with the fears of the boys.
 
“If that’s the case,” he said, “we may have trouble yet, though it gets me how a man dare try anything like that in this part of the world.”
 
“They haven’t tried it yet,” was the of Lenman.
 
“No, and I guess they won’t; but from what I’ve read and hearn tell, it’s just such crimes that succeed, ’cause nobody expects anybody would dare try them.”
 
That night was an eventful one in the history of the occupants of the old stage-coach between Belmar and Piketon. That the driver was uneasy was shown by his silence and his close attention to his team and matters in front. He took no part in the conversation, but let the others do the talking while he listened and watched.
 
All noticed the rapid clearing of the sky. The of the a............