Since the young gentlemen on the rear seat began to believe that a meeting with a stage robber was quite certain to take place before reaching Piketon, they saw the need of an understanding all round.
The driver repeated that he never carried firearms, for, if he did, he would be tempted to use them with the surety of getting himself into trouble.
"If a man orders you to hold up your hands and you do it, why he aint going to hurt you," was the philosophy of the old man; "all he'll do is just to go through you; but if you have a gun or pistol, you'll bang away with it, miss the chap, and then he'll bore you; so it's my rule, when them scamps come along, to do just as they tell me; a man's life is worth more to him than all his money, and that's me every time."
"But you might be quick enough to drop him first," suggested Wagstaff, who would have preferred the driver to be not quite so convincing in his arguments.
"Mighty little chance of that! You see the feller among the trees is all ready and waiting; he can take his aim afore you know he is there; now when you fellers fire at him it won't do for you to miss--remember _that_!"
"Of course you don't intend to, but the chances are that you will, and then it will be the last of you!"
"But won't you be apt to catch it on the front seat?"
[Illustration: THE MEETING WITH DICK HALLIARD]
"Not a bit of it, for them chaps are quick to know where a shot comes from, and they always go for the one that fires; they know, too, that a stage driver never fights--helloa!"
At that moment, a bicycle guided by a boy glided silently along the right of the stage, turning out just enough to pass the vehicle. The youth whose shapely legs were propelling it, slackened his gait so that for a few minutes he held his place beside the front wheels of the coach.
He was a handsome, bright-faced youth about sixteen years old, who greeted the driver pleasantly, and, turning his head, saluted the others, without waiting for an introduction.
"I'm afraid a storm is coming, and I shall have to travel fast to get home ahead of it; do you want to run a race with me, Bill?"
"Not with _this_ team," replied the driver, "for we couldn't hold a candle to you."
"I don't know about that," replied the boy, with a laugh; "there are plenty who can beat me on a bicycle."