"
"Take off your boots, then, and be quick about it."
"I can't; that is, without help. They're awfully tight, don't
you know."
"Which boot is your money in?" asked the road agent, impatiently.
"The right boot."
"Hold it up, then, and I'll help you."
The road agent stooped over, not suspecting any danger, and
in doing so laid down his revolver.
In a flash Mortimer Sprague electrified not only his assailants,
but all the stage passengers, by producing a couple of revolvers,
which he pointed at the two road agents, and in a stern voice,
wholly unlike the affected tones in which he had hitherto spoken,
said: "Get out of here, you ruffians, or I'll fire!"
The startled road agent tried to pick up his revolver, but
Sprague instantly put his foot on it, and repeated the command.
The other road agent, who was occupied with the minister,
turned to assist his comrade, when he, too, received a check
from an unexpected source.
The minister, who was an old man, had a stout staff, which
he used to guide him in his steps. He raised it and brought it
down with emphasis on the arm which held the revolver, exclaiming.
"The sword of the Lord and of Gideon! I smite thee, thou bold,
bad man, not in anger, but as an instrument of retribution.
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