Deadwood Dick Jr. Branded: or, Red Rover at Powder Pocket.

At the next alarm a couple of guns sprang to his hands, and he called on the others in the smoker with him to prepare for a possible attempt at robbery.

There were, perhaps, a score of men in that car.

Some of them drew guns, but when the train stopped and the masked men with their Winchesters appeared, the sight took all the bravery out of them.

The young man we have described, like the others, after a hasty look around to see what the others were doing, raised his hands, but the weapons remained close beside him on the cushion.

They were not allowed to leave their seats; all that was required of them was to sit still and keep their hands in sight.

This they did.

But there was a grim look on the face of the man described, as if he wanted only half an opportunity to act.

In all the cars the situation was the same, and presently to their ears came the sound of an explosion that could be felt as well as heard. The express car had been blown open.

Immediately following the explosion the report of a pistol rang out in the smoker, and the robber nearest the rear door dropped in his tracks. Another, and the one in front dropped his rifle and uttered a howl of pain, and all the men in the car looked in astonishment.

There stood the man we have mentioned, with both of his weapons in his grasp. So lightning quick had he acted that no one had detected him in the act until the shots were fired.

But he did not remain inactive.

"Follow me!" he called out to the others. "Back me up, and we will beat them off and cheat them yet. We are ten to their one, and they'll be too rattled to shoot straight."

He ran for the rear door, even while speaking, and some three or four made bold to follow him, with pistol in hand, but for the most part they hung back like cowards. Straight to that door, and out, and into the next car, where two more of the robbers were stationed.

Opening the door suddenly, this man clapped his revolver behind the ear of one of these, and commanded him to drop his gun, which, at the touch of the cold tube, the fellow promptly did. The other, however, at the other end of the car, brought his rifle up to his shoulder and gave warning that he was going to fire.

Before he could do so, however, for it required aim to avoid hitting his comrade, the traveler had thrown one arm around the neck of the robber he had disarmed, and, in a twinkling, let fly a snap shot from behind that living barricade and placed the fellow at the other end of the car hors de combat. The passengers sprang to their feet with a cheer, and it looked as if they were going to get the upper hand.

CHAPTER II.

DICK'S FRUITLESS RISK

Deadwood Dick, Junior!

He it was who had, at the risk of his life, made this break to cheat the train-robbers.

"Follow me, every man of you who has a gun!" he called out to them. "We can do these fellows up in short order, if we go for them in the right manner. Who is with me?"

There was another cheer at that.

"We're with you to a man!" some one shouted. "You lead the way, and see if we ain't."

"All right! Follow me, but if I go down, don't let that check you; go right on and you will run clear over them by force of numbers. Now, then, here we go for them!"

With that, Dick dashed out of the doors and leaped to the ground, his brace of revolvers in hand ready to do execution.

He began firing the moment he touched the ground.

Two other fellows had followed, but, at the return fire from the outlaws, one of these fell dead and the other lost the use of an arm by a bullet.

Dick himself had the closest kind of a call, a bullet zipping past his face so close that he felt it touch his skin, taking away a strand of his long hair in its flight.

But that did not stop him even for an instant. Two men had already gone down before him, and now a third, and, had he been supported, the victory would have been easy; but those who had cheered the loudest were the first to draw back, when they saw the others drop.

They hesitated, drew back, and then dived into the cars again as if it were raining bullets without, and dauntless Dick Bristol was left entirely alone and unsupported.

Hearing the outlaws yell, Dick looked back and realized his position.

Without turning to look the other way again, for that would have been to lose a fraction of a second of opportunity, he dropped to the ground and almost the same instant came the sharp crack of three or four rifles.

For a moment there he lay; then his revolvers cracked, bringing out at least one cry of pain. Again he was on his feet, dashing for the nearest car. Once more he dropped, not because he saw any one aiming at him, but because he knew they had had just time to do so.

Very true guess, for the rifles spoke out, and again he had escaped their bullets.

Upon the instant, another leap carried him to the platform, and for the time being he was safe.

"Curse you for the cowards you are!" he cried, facing his fellow-passengers.

"Why did you not back me up as you promised? We had them dead to rights then, had you but done your part!"

"And they would now have us dead," argued one of the timid ones, "the same as that poor fellow they did drop."

"And whose death counts for nothing, because you did not take advantage of the moment," retorted Dick, hotly.

Dick Bristol was disgusted.

Outside the cars, now, at a sufficient distance to command a good view, men were watching for the appearance of a head.

The same trick could not be repeated; the advantage once lost was lost for good and all, and Fighting Dick's chagrin was great to think that he had risked so much and gained so little.

"And for whose death you are responsible," rejoined the one who had spoken before.

"Not so much as are you," cried Dick.

"It was not I who led the foolhardy attack," the retort.

"We are all well aware of that," sneered Dick. "You were too much a coward even to follow."

"You mean I had too much good sense."

"I mean what I said."

"Then you lie!"

Smack!

That man was stretched his full length the same instant.