Ethan Durrell may have been verdant-looking and in his ways, but he was one of the pluckiest of men. It was impossible for him to know whether the scamp who held up the stage had any companions or not, until the matter was proven by taking a risk which, if he went the wrong way, was sure to be fatal. With this , and without so much as a single weapon at his command, he leaped upon the unsuspecting ruffian, and, throwing both arms around his neck, bore him to the ground.  
The attack was wholly unexpected by the fellow, who was with loaded revolver toward the stage, ready to fire on the instant he observed anything suspicious. It was necessary for the New Englander to spring down from the front of the coach, but every one except himself thought his intention was to land in front of the other and there submit to the . The quavering voice of Durrell had convinced his friends that he was as timid as any of them in the presence of real danger.
 
He closed his arms like a vise, so as to those of the stranger against his sides. The of his own body drove the man backward, and before he could recover Ethan tripped and threw him with such violence that his hat fell off and an was forced from him.
 
He uttered fierce execrations and strove to get his arm free that he might use his weapon on his assailant, but there was no possibility of shaking off the embrace of the wiry New Englander, who hung on like grim death.
 
“Bill, you and the boys watch out for the other fellers,” called Durrell, as he struggled with the man; “if any of them show themselves, shoot! I’ll ’tend to this one.”
 
At this moment the seemed to remember his friends, and he called:
“Quick, Sam! Shoot him! Don’t miss! Let him have it!”
 
Even in that excitement Ethan noticed that the fellow’s appeal was to “Sam” instead of the imaginary “Dick,” whom he first addressed. The suspicion that he was alone was strengthened, and the daring New Englander put all his power to him.
 
“It’s no use! I’ve got you and I’m going for you like two houses afire. Stand back, Bill, and don’t ; if I can’t bring him to terms, then I’m going to resign and climb a tree.”
 
Everything was going like a whirlwind. Although Bill Lenman preferred on such occasions as the present to be a non-combatant, he was not the one to stay idle when a friend risked his life for him. He threw the lines over the horses’ backs and sprang down to give what help he could; but in the darkness it was hard to decide in what way he could aid the other. It was evident that Durrell was pushing matters with , and there was no doubt that he expected to bring the rogue to terms.
 
But it was easy for one in Ethan’s situation to be mistaken. As long as the fellow kept his pistol, the New Englander’s life was in danger. Bill stooped over with the intention of twisting away the weapon, but at the moment of doing so it was discharged, at the driver himself, for the bullet grazed his temple.
 
Finding himself unable to turn the pistol on his assailant, the ruffian saw a chance of the to hit the new-comer, as he thought, and he fired, missing him by the narrowest conceivable.
 
Before he could fire again a vigorous kick of the driver sent the weapon flying off in the darkness.
 
“Keep your hands off!” called Durrell, the moment he discovered his friend was near him; “I can manage him alone. If you want to do anything get ready to tie him.”
 
That was an easy matter, for stage-drivers are always supplied with extras, and a little skill will enable one to get along without a few already in use.
 
Durrell found his customer tough and powerful. He held him fast for some seconds, but he seemed as tireless as his assailant, and the contest would have been prolonged with the possibility of the fellow working himself loose and off among the trees; but mindful of this danger, the New Englander had recourse to heroic measures.
 
He his grip on the fellow’s throat until he for breath. This was repeated to the danger point, though the man continued to struggle as long as he had the power.
 
But Durrell had no wish to punish him beyond what was necessary. He now called to the driver that he could give some help if he wished. Bill appeared to be with straps and ropes, and was eager to do something, for, truth to tell, he felt ashamed that, after all he had said to the New Englander, the latter had attacked the fellow so bravely, while until this moment the one chiefly concerned had given no help at all. He was anxious to make .
 
Reading the purpose of his captors and knowing that if bound all help was at an end, the robber struggled like a wild cat. He fought, kicked, struck, bit, and shouted to his friends to come to his help, addressing them by names without number, but all in vain; he could not have been more helpless if enclose............