Jack of the Pony Express Part 16

"Now, I want to see the records of the registered mail, going and coming, Miss Blake. I also must check over your stamps and cash. Have you had in, lately, any special delivery stuff?"

"Why, yes--that is--Oh, I hardly know where to begin," said the fl.u.s.tered girl, wishing Jack would say something, "You see I've never been inspected before."

"Humph!" sneered the man. "You act as though something was wrong. Most offices where I go don't have such nervous persons in charge. If everything is all right you have nothing to fear. Perhaps you had better step outside and let me go over matters myself. That would be better, and you wouldn't be so nervous.

"If everything is all right you have nothing to fear, and if there is something wrong, well, I'll be as easy in my report to Washington as I can.

I won't make it too hard for you. Yes, I think that will be best. Just leave the office to me for a little while."

Jennie flashed, over the man's head, a look at Jack in the corner behind the door. The young pony express rider had arisen, and, to her alarm, Jennie saw his hand go toward the pocket where she knew he carried his revolver--a new one since the robbers had taken his first one.

Jennie wanted to scream.

"Just run along, little girl, and let me have the place to myself," the man urged.

It was time for Jack to act.

He fairly sprang out from behind the door and confronted the man.

"Are you sure," Jack asked, "that if she left the post office to you that you wouldn't run off with it?"

The man started back. He turned a little pale, and then a flood of red surged into his face. He seemed to recover himself with an effort.

"I--I don't know what you mean. Who are you?" he demanded, curtly.

"Never mind who I am, but who are you?" and Jack fairly shot out the words.

"Why, I'm the post office inspector for this district," was the answer, and again the man's tone was sneering. "Are you connected with the department, if I may ask?"

"I am," said Jack, grimly.

"In what capacity?"

"Pony express rider!" shot out Jack. "The same pony express rider that you and your gang of outlaws held up not long ago! I know you now. I was sure of you the minute I set eyes on you on that big horse, and when I heard your voice I was doubly sure. Wearing your mask didn't help any. I know you! You're no more a post office inspector than I am. You're a post office robber, that's what you are!"

The man started to speak, but stopped suddenly. As Jack was about to draw his weapon to order the man to submit, the fellow with a sudden leap was out of the place. In another instant he had jumped to the back of his horse, yanking loose the tie rope as he leaned over the saddle. Then with a clatter of hoofs he was off.

Jennie screamed, but Jack, flashing past her to get outside, yelled:

"Stop him! Get after him! He's one of the fellows who held up the mail, and robbed me! Stop him!"

Jack fired in the air to attract attention, for the neighborhood was deserted. He could not bring himself to fire at the man, nor even at the splendid horse. Though the provocation was great, and though Jack would have been justified, he could not do it.

"Stop him! He's a post office robber!" Jack yelled, again firing a shot Then, leaping on the back of his pony which was waiting for him outside the building, Jack gave chase after the escaping outlaw.

"We've got to get him, Sunger!" he cried. "We've got to get him!"

CHAPTER XV

A CAUTION

Shots always attract attention, especially in a western community where they usually mean something. In cities there are so many noises constantly being heard, and back-fires and tire blow-outs from automobiles so nearly resemble the discharge of firearms, that if a revolver actually were to be fired in a crowded street it is hardly likely that it would attract notice.

But in the quiet little western town of Golden Crossing shots were rather a novelty. The place was peaceful and law-abiding, and, as was said, when pistol reports were heard, there usually was some good reason for them.

In consequence, when Jack shot off his revolver, it was not long before the main street in front of the post office was thronged.

Men came rushing out of stores and houses, and there appeared also not a few women and children. Jack, racing down the street after the escaping outlaw, looked back and saw that he was able to call for reinforcements.

One man had already jumped on his horse and was joining in the chase.

"What's the row?"

"It's one of the men who held me up!" exclaimed Jack in answer.

"We'll get him!" was yelled back, and several more men hurried to loosen the tie-straps of their horses to lend their aid.

"I don't know whether we'll get him or not," Jack mused, as he urged his pony on. "He's got a good start of us, and that horse of his can go some, or I miss my guess. Besides, he's a regular ox, and can keep going for hours at a time.

"You're all right, Sunger, and there isn't a better pony living," Jack went on, "but it's like putting a little runabout auto up against a big racing car. It isn't equal. Still we'll do our best."

Several men were now taking part in the chase. The first one who had heard what Jack said had pa.s.sed the word to the others, and the posse, so hastily organized, understood what sort of man they were after.

Some of the men were miners, and others were rough characters--that is rough in the sense that they lived in the open and were ready for whatever came along. Some of them began firing their "guns," as they called their revolvers, but there was no chance of hitting the fleeing man, as he was now out of sight beyond a turn in the trail. Realizing this the men fired in the air, hoping, perhaps, that the sound of the shots would intimidate the fellow, and cause him to stop.

But the man ahead was made of as stern and as desperate stuff as were the majority of his pursuers. He must have known that Jack had recognized him, and he realized the penalty if he were caught. So he made up his mind that he would not be taken.

Jack was the nearest to him, and as the pony express rider caught occasional glimpses of the fellow, he saw him beating his horse to urge the magnificent animal to still greater speed.

"There's no use trying to catch him," thought Jack, "he's got too much of a start, and his horse can beat anything around here. I guess he knows that."

Still Jack would not have given up had not something occurred that made it absolutely certain that the chase was useless.

Coming to a bit of soft ground Sunger stumbled and fell, throwing Jack cleanly over his head. Fortunately the lad landed on a bank of thick ferns, so that his fall only jarred him. The pony was not hurt, and soon scrambled to his feet and looked at his owner, Jack imagined, with a sort of apologetic expression.

"I know you couldn't help it, Sunger, old boy," the lad said. "It wasn't your fault."

He limped toward his steed and patted him. Then Jack saw that one of his saddle girths had broken. With that unmended it would be useless to try to continue the pursuit. The saddle would slip from under him, and bareback riding on the mountain trail is out of the question.

Jack realized this, and when the first of the posse came up it was decided to abandon the pursuit for the time being.

"We can't get him now, but maybe we can trail him later," said Jack.

"There's no use in my going on."

"No. And you'll be needed to carry the mail," a man replied. "The stage will be in soon. You'd better get back. Some of us will plan to follow the fellow. We can ask along the way, and maybe get trace of him. If so, we'll let you know."

One or two of the pursuers who had no special duties to take them back to the town agreed to follow the trail of the pursued one for some distance further. The others went back with Jack, temporary mending having been done to the saddle girth.