Scarcely lifting her eyes from her book, she bowed a grave assent.
"You see, miss," he continued, "and you gents," he added, taking the whole coach into his confidence, "I've got over forty ounces of clean gold dust in them butes, between the upper and lower sole,--and it's mighty tight packing for my feet.

Ye kin heft it," he said, as he removed one boot and held it up before them.

"I put the dust there for safety--kalkilatin' that while these road gentry allus goes for a man's pockets and his body belt, they never thinks of his butes, or haven't time to go through 'em." He looked around him with a smile of self-satisfaction.
The murmur of admiring comment was, however, broken by a burly-bearded miner who sat in the middle seat.

"Thet's pretty fair, as far as it goes," he said smilingly, "but I reckon it wouldn't go far ef you started to run.

I've got a simpler game than that, gentlemen, and ez we're all friends here, and the danger's over, I don't mind tellin' ye.
The first thing these yer road agents do, after they've covered the driver with their shot guns, is to make the passengers get out and hold up their hands.