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Updated: May 27, 2025
His steed whinnied, thinking, perhaps, that his master might have been speaking to him, as Jack frequently did. Indeed, the lad often talked to his horse as one might to a human being, and Jack stoutly maintained that Sunger understood as much if not more than some people. "Well, if it's gone, it's gone," Jack said, sadly enough "And it wasn't my fault, either.
And, having secured his pouches of mail and express stuff to the saddle, Jack leaped to the back of Sunger and was off at a gallop. "A fine lad," murmured Mr. Wayde to the miner, as they turned back to the hotel. "Yes, indeed. I was afraid you were going to hurt his feelings by saying it wouldn't be safe to send mail by him." "Oh, no, indeed. I guess you can trust him, can't you?"
Then, when the last knot had been tied and made secure, Jack fell forward on his pony's neck. "Go on, Sunger!" he said feebly. "Go on to Jennie and Golden Crossing. It's my only chance. You've got to run now as you never ran before! You've got to carry the mail! Go on, Sunger! Don't fail me now, or it will be all up with dad and me! Don't fail, Sunger! Go on!"
"I I'm afraid if I get out I won't be able to get up again," he murmured weakly. "Sunger, what's the matter with me, I wonder?" Then, ill as he felt himself becoming, like a flash an idea came to Jack. The meaning of it all came to him instantly. "I've been drugged!" he said, hoarsely. "That Ryan! That was his game. He drugged my coffee, that time when he made me turn around!
If that could be it!" he murmured. Cautiously he started toward it, in fear lest the vibration of his steps jar the sealed packet into the stream, for that it was the sealed packet Jack now felt sure. As the lad started forward his horse followed him, so well trained was Sunger. "No; stay back, old fellow!" Jack exclaimed. The pony, whinnying, obeyed.
"We'll have to make time," whispered the lad to his pony, making sure that the mail sacks were securely fastened, and that he had the sealed packet which he had ridden back to get. "Yes, Sunger, we'll make time, so in case we do have to make a night ride we won't be delayed too long. Queer chap, that Ryan," mused Jack. "It was good of him to blow me to coffee.
Though Jack saw, with regret, that his pony had suffered, still the wonderful speed of the animal had abated but little. "He's going to get away from me!" cried the lad, as he saw how Sunger was running. "And that's the man, else why should he try to escape?" Then Jack began to think quickly. He had trained Sunger to halt instantly when he called "Whoa!" to him, in a certain tone.
Ride on. Explain to Jed Monty how it is. I think Jed takes the stage out to-night." "Yes, he does. I'll tell him." Jack quickly transferred to his own saddle the bags of mail and express matter. Mr. Bailey seemed easier now, though there was still that look of pain on his face. "Come on, Sunger," called the lad to his pony. "We've got to make time!"
Though the sound of the approaching footsteps of the horse of the pony express rider could be plainly heard by Jack, so clear and resonant was the mountain air, he realized that his father had yet nearly half a mile to travel. Leaping to the saddle of his pony, and patting the animal lovingly on the neck, Jack set off once more. He went quickly, for Sunger was fresh and eager.
Jack and Jennie were the best of friends. "Well, if dad doesn't come pretty soon, I'm going to eat," decided Jack. "He won't mind, I'm sure. But I would like to know what's keeping him. I hope he hasn't had any accident. His pony is sure-footed, I know, but I'd feel better if he had Sunger." Jack was plainly nervous that is as nervous as a young, healthy lad can be.
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