CHAPTER III
A NARROW ESCAPE
"Say, Jennie, what is this; a joke?" asked Jack, as he leaned up againstthe table on which was piled the mail and some express matter, for the postoffice was also used as the headquarters of the pony express company andstage line.
"A joke? The idea! How dare you!" and the young lady appeared to be veryindignant, indeed. "A joke! I guess not! Look at that, Mr. Jack Bailey,"and she flourished in front of him an important-looking document whereonher name could be discerned in large letters.
"Hum! So you are really postmistress of Golden Crossing," remarked Jack."Is your mother--"
"Oh, it isn't anything serious," was the quick answer. "But we are going tomake certain, changes, and--"
"Changes!" cried Jack, in some surprise. "I hope you aren't thinking ofgoing away!"
"Oh, no indeed!" Jennie answered. "We like it too well here. But mother hasa chance to do some sewing, at which she can make some much-needed money,and she realized that she would be too busy at that to look after the postoffice properly. So I said I'd apply for the place. I know all about thework," Jennie went on, "for whenever mother went away I used to look afterthe mail. Tim does the heavy work, lifting the pouches and packages and allthat," and she indicated a red-haired and freckled lad named TimothyMullane, a genial Irish chap, who did odd jobs around the post office, andin the settlement of Golden Crossing.
"So, with Tim to help me, I felt that I might just as well be thefull-fledged postmistress," the girl went on. "As soon as mother hadarranged to do this sewing I applied for the place to the President--"
"To the President--in Washington?" cried Jack, in surprise.
"Well, I wrote to the President, though I don't suppose he ever saw myletter," Jennie said. "I thought he appointed all postmasters andpostmistresses. But I had an answer from some official of the post officedepartment, and I received the appointment!" she laughed in conclusion.
"So after this, Mr. Jack Bailey, of the pony express, you'll get the mailfrom me and deliver it to me."
"No greater pleasure, I'm sure," Jack answered with a low bow, and he alsolaughed. "When did all this happen?" he asked.
"The letter came yesterday," Jennie answered.
"And I received my temporary appointment this morning," Jack said. "Youdidn't beat me by very much, Jennie! Shake!" and with true western goodfellowship, Jack held out his hand, meeting the warm clasp of the prettyand smiling girl.
The two young persons found much to talk about. Jennie was sorry to hear ofthe illness of "Uncle Pete," as she called him, and when her mother came into greet Jack, Mrs. Blake had to hear the whole story over again.
Mrs. Blake was a widow, whose husband had been killed in a mining accident.She was left with Jennie, then a little girl, to bring up, and friendssecured for her the place as postmistress of Golden Crossing. She managedto make a living from the money received in this way, and from the sewingshe was able to do for the residents of the settlement.
And now, as she explained to Jack, her needlework would take up much of hertime, so she and Jennie planned that the latter should be made postmistressso that she could act officially when her mother was not on hand.
"Of course, I'll help her, Jack," Mrs. Blake said, "for it isn't easy for ayoung girl to have to do this work."
"And I'll help, too!" cried the young pony express rider.
"I knew you would, Cousin Jack!" Jennie exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Butnow we must talk business. Let me have your slips to sign, and here is aregistered letter that you'd better put in an inside pocket where the stagerobbers won't find it," and she laughed merrily at her joke.
There was considerable routine work attached to the post office and to thepony express route, and for some time Jack and Jennie were busy over this.The mail and express matter which Jack had brought in on the back of hispony, Sunger, had already been sent off on the outgoing stage.
"Will you ride back to-night, after the other stage comes in, or will youstay here?" asked Mrs. Blake.
"I guess I'll stay," Jack said. "But I can go back as far as Painted Post,"naming a mountain settlement a few miles east of Golden Crossing. "Istopped there on my way here, and Harry Ward said he was going to ride into Rainbow Ridge to a dance to-night. I can have him take a message for me,saying the mail will be late. And he can also tell my father that I'll stayover night, and be in early to-morrow morning."
"That would be a good idea," said Mrs. Blake. "We'll try and make youcomfortable, Jack."
"Oh, you won't have to try very hard," he laughed. Jennie blushed andsmiled, and Mrs. Blake looked wise.
Jack spent that afternoon helping Jennie straighten up her post office, forshe had determined on a new arrangement of tables and desks, which Mrs.Blake had never had time to settle on.
"It's your post office, Jennie," her mother remarked. "Do just as youplease as far as the regulations permit."
The in-coming mail was later than had been reported, and did not arriveuntil nearly dark. In such cases, when a night trip would be necessary overthe mountain trail between Golden Crossing and Rainbow Ridge, the ponyexpress rider was permitted to postpone his trip until the next day. Thetrail was rather dangerous at night, though on occasions, when there hadbeen a bright moon and some important letters and express packages had comein, Mr. Bailey made the night trip. Jack had done so once, but he did notgreatly care to do so again.
"But if there were any need of it I'd do it now," he said, though he wouldhave regretted leaving Jennie, with the prospect of a pleasant evening inher company.
However, as it happened, there was nothing of such importance that it couldnot wait over until the next day, so Jack did not have to ride away. He putup his pony in the express stable, and he and Jennie spent a pleasantevening together.
Jack was a little worried about his father, and made an early start thenext morning, carrying the mail and expressage. He made a quick trip andwas relieved, on stopping off for a moment at the Watson cabin, to findthat his father had passed a fairly comfortable night, and was considerablybetter.
"But he can't ride the trail yet," said Mrs. Watson.
"And I don't intend to let him!" exclaimed Jack. "I'm going to be the ponyrider for a while."
Dr. Brown confirmed what he had at first said--that Mr. Bailey would be illfor a long time, and when this had become known Jack at once madearrangements to be permanently named as rider between Rainbow Ridge andGolden Crossing. Mr. Perkfeld agreed to this, but, most unexpectedly, someopposition developed among the members of the express firm. It appearedthat one of the stockholders wanted the place of express rider for arelative of his. There were several others who wanted the place, and therewas quite a scramble for it.
But Jack really had the most logical claim to it, and, as Mr. Perkfeld wasable to make the appointment, at least for the time being, it came to Jack.
But there was bitter feeling against him on the part of some unscrupulousmen who wanted the place, for it paid well and carried some privileges. Itwas also an honor.
"You want to watch yourself, son," said Mr. Bailey, rather weakly, to Jackone day, before the lad was about to set out on his ride to GoldenCrossing. "Watch yourself, for there is no telling what tricks some ofthose fellows may be up to."
"Tricks, Dad? What do you mean?" asked Jack in wonder.
"Well, I mean they might try to do something to discredit you. Try to makeyou late with the mail, or even have you lose a valuable letter or package.They might think, if you failed to deliver promptly, you would lose theplace, and they'd have a chance. So be careful. Hold on to it, for I'llneed it when I get well again. My illness is going to cost a pile ofmoney."
"Don't you worry about that Dad!" exclaimed the young mountain trail rider."I'll watch out, and they won't catch me napping!"
He rode off up the road, followed by the fond looks of his father.
"He's a good boy," murmured Mr. Bailey, "A good boy!"
Once again the in-stage to Golden Crossin
g was late, but as Jack was toldby Jennie on his arrival at her post office that several important piecesof mail were expected, he decided to ride back with the pouches, even if itwas after dark.
"There's half a moon," he said, "and I know the trail like a book. I'llmake a night ride of it."
While waiting for the stage to come in Jack remained about the post office.Among those who came in for mail was Jake Tantrell, one of the men who hadtried unsuccessfully to get Jack's place.
"Goin' back to-night?" he inquired casually.
"Yes," Jack answered. "Anything you want carried?"
"No," was the surly answer. "An' if I had I wouldn't trust a kid like youwith it! It's a man's job to ride pony express, an' I'm surprised that theylet you have the place."
"Oh, if that's the way you feel about it, I don't want to take any of yourstuff," snapped Jack, filled with indignation. "But I've made good so far,and I expect to keep on."
"Huh! Maybe you will, an' maybe you won't!" was the snarling retort.
It was quite dark when Jack finally started with the mail. He also hadseveral express packages, one of which was securely sealed, indicating thatit contained valuables.
"Guess I'll stow that away in an inside pocket," Jack said to himself, andhe suited the action to the words.
The first part of the trail leading out from Golden Crossing was notespecially bad, and Jack ambled along it slowly enough. About two miles outfrom the settlement he had to cross, on a rather frail wooden bridge, arushing mountain stream.
As Jack neared the middle of the bridge he felt a plank suddenly give waywith the pony. In an instant he clapped his heels to the side of the horse,and slapped him sharply on the flank.
Sunger sprang forward, and only just in time, for in another second hewould have stepped through a hole in the bridge where a plank had fallenoff into the stream below. And had the pony fallen Jack would probably havebeen thrown over the bridge railing into the water.