IMPORTANT LETTERS
"Whoa! Steady old boy! Easy now!"
Thus Jack exclaimed, as he leaped from the Saddle and held the reins
lightly to restrain Sunger.
The pony snorted, whinnied, and, after prancing about a few moments, stood
still.
"That's better!" commented Jack. "Now let's see what happened."
There was, as Jack said, "half a moon," and by the light of this he was
able to see, as he glanced over the part of the bridge he had traversed, a
place where a plank had fallen out. A gap was left--a gap wide enough to
have allowed a horse's leg to slip through, with disastrous results to
animal and rider.
"Well, Sunger, old boy," went on Jack, "did we do that; did it just happen
of itself; or was it done on purpose?"
For, in a second's flash, there had come to him his father's warning.
"Well, if it's some one after my job, it's a mean trick they have played in
trying to get it," mused Jack, aloud. "I wouldn't so much mind for myself,
for I guess I could have swum out all right. But I guess you'd have been
pretty well banged up, old boy," and he patted his pony, which now had
gotten over his first fright.
Jack, whose wildly-beating heart had now somewhat calmed itself, stood
beside his faithful pony and considered what his next move had best be.
Among other thoughts was the one that he must, in some way, repair the
bridge so that any one coming after him would not slip through the holes
left where the misplaced planks had fallen into the stream.
"I can get a couple of logs or some big branches in the woods," thought
Jack, "and stick them in the holes."
Instinctively he looked to see if the mail and express pouches were safe.
Yes, there they were on the saddle front. None of them had slipped off when
the pony rider himself had so narrowly escaped.
Then, with a quick motion, Jack's hand went to the breast pocket of his
coat, where he had placed the small, sealed express package. To his
consternation he felt no bulky protuberance there, such as would have been
made by the parcel.
"Whew!" whistled Jack. "Great Scott! I hope I haven't lost that!"
It was very possible that he might have done so, for he remembered pitching
forward on his pony's neck, as he leaned over to save himself. The package
could easily have slipped from his pocket.
In a veritable frenzy of alarm, Jack rapidly searched through his other
pockets, thinking he might, by some chance, have thrust the valuable parcel
into one other than the first he had selected as being the most secure. But
it was not to be found.
"Just my luck!" he cried aloud. "It's lost. This will end my services as a
pony express rider!"
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. I couldn't know those planks in the bridge were loose. It's
lucky Sunger felt them giving in time, and gave me the alarm, or we might
both be lying somewhere with broken legs, if not worse."
He glanced back to the place where the accident had so nearly occurred. In
the gleam of the moon he could see two black streaks in the otherwise level
flooring of the bridge, the planks of which were white from the bleaching
of the sun and the dust of the mountain trail.
"That's where I nearly went through," mused Jack. Hardly had the thought
come to him than he saw, lying on the very edge of one of the black
openings, a small, light object.
"Jove! 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.
Jack noticed that one of the mail bags was hanging loose, as if about to
fall, but he reasoned that he could fasten that securely after he had
learned whether or not the white object was the package missing from his
pocket.
Cautiously he approached, and there, lying on the very verge of one of the
openings made by the missing planks, was the packet, which Jack was sure
contained jewelry, if not money.
"Well, if this isn't lucky!" he cried, as he picked it up, and thrust it
into the bottom of his inside vest pocket. "Just pure luck! You won't get
out again," he added, patting the package.
It was the work of but a few minutes to drag from the nearby woods some big
branches to fill in the holes left by the missing planks. Of course, the
branches did not make the bridge secure, but they could easily be seen,
even after the moon went down, and would warn chance passersby of the
danger. There was a chance that some one might come after Jack passed,
though the pony express trail was one not often followed after nightfall.
Jack tried to ascertain by careful looking how the planks had come to give
way under the hoofs of his steed. But there was no clew that he could
discover. The bridge was not a carefully made one, and it would have been
an easy matter for any one to so loosen a couple of the planks that the
least motion would send them into the stream below.
"But who would want to do a thing like that?" Jack reasoned. "I might have
been killed, and so might Sunger. Well, all's well that ends well, I guess.
Now I'd better be getting along."
The bridge was as secure as Jack could make it in his haste, and having
made sure that nothing was missing from the mail and express pouches, and
fastening them securely, he mounted his horse again, and set off at a
lively pace. For a while he was worried lest his pony might have strained a
shoulder or a tendon, but Sunger appeared to be none the worse for the
adventure.
Jack rode on, and had covered about half the distance to Rainbow Ridge when
he heard, on the trail ahead of him, the sounds of other hoof-beats. At
first he thought it might be the echo of his own, but a moment of listening
told him it was some one else on the road.
"I wonder who it can be," he asked himself.
He saw a few minutes later. It was Jake Tantrell, the man who had sneered
at him--the man who was anxious to have his place. Was it fancy, or did
Tantrell start and draw back his horse at sight of Jack.
"Look out for the bridge," Jack called as he passed the man, making up his
mind, even though the fellow had scorned him, that he could do no less than
warn him. "A couple of planks gave way with me a while ago."
"Oh--er--they did! Planks gave way?" Tantrell stammered.
"Yes," Jack said. "I nearly had a bad fall."
He said nothing about the dropped package.
"Well, that's too bad," the man said. "They ought to fix that bridge."
"Some one did," said Jack.
"Eh? What's that?"
"I said some one did. I mean some one fixed it for me, I think."
"What--what do you mean?"
"I mean those planks never came loose by themselves. I stuck a couple of
branches in the holes. Look out when you ride over."
"Oh--I--I will. Thanks!" the man exclaimed, almost as an afterthought.
Then Jack rode on, and Tantrell passed him, giving the lad a sharp glance
in the gloom, for the moon was now down below the hills.
Rather shaken by his night's adventure, and a bit anxious, Jack finally
reached his own cottage. He turned in there, preferring to do so rather
than to awaken Mrs. Watson and her family at this hour, though he was
anxious to know how his father was feeling.
"But I guess he must be all right, or they'd have sent me some word,"
reasoned Jack.
He put his horse in the stable, and, after a hasty lunch from the cupboard,
turned into his own room, and slept soundly until morning. He was up early
in order to deliver the mail for the stage which would soon go out, and
among the things he turned over to the driver was the package that had so
nearly been lost.
"I'm glad to get rid of that," he said to Jed Monty. "It looks as if it's
worth something," and he pointed to the many seals.
"That's so, it does," Jed replied. "Guess I'll stow it in a safe place
myself."
Jack gave a warning about the missing planks of the bridge, and the road
commissioner promised to have repairs made. The lad said nothing of his
suspicions that the planks had intentionally been loosened, for he felt it
would do no good.
"I'll just keep my eyes open myself," he reasoned, "and maybe I can find
out a few things. It might be that some one who wants to be a pony express
rider in my place might try to make trouble for me in that way. Maybe they
didn't actually want to harm me or my horse, but they might have wanted me
to lose some mail. But I didn't!"
For the next few days nothing of moment occurred. Jack rode the trail
without anything happening to him, and there were only light loads to
carry. His father improved slightly, but Dr. Brown predicted that it would
be at least two months before he could be out.
At Golden Crossing Jennie was busy with her post office duties, but she
found time to spend a few hours with Jack when he was at the settlement.
It was one morning when the young rider went to the Mansion Hotel, as the
one hostelry in Rainbow Ridge was called, that Samuel Argent, who had once
been a prominent miner, but who had lost several fortunes, came to the
stage station and post office with several letters in his hand. Each one
was sealed with red wax.
"Going to make the trip straight through today, Jack?" he asked, for he
knew the lad slightly, though better acquainted with his father.
"Yes, I expect to, Mr. Argent," was the answer. "Is there anything I can do
for you?" Jack often executed small commissions, for which he was paid
extra.
"Well, this is in your regular line," the miner said, "but I have some
important letters here, and I'd rather give them to you, personally, than
put them in the mail. I'd like to have you hand them over to the Golden
Crossing stage man and--"
At that moment a man came running out of the hotel. He waved his hand to
Mr. Argent.
"Don't send those letters!" he exclaimed, and he seemed quite excited.
"Hold 'em! Don't let Jack take 'em!"