Jack of the Pony Express | Page 4

when you come back."
"All right, Dad! I'll do it. But I sure do hate to leave you like this!"
"It's better than having the mail delayed. 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!"
The intelligent and beautiful animal whinnied as if he understood. Then, with a fond and anxious look at his father, Jack wheeled about and set off down the trail at a gallop, Mr. Bailey going on more slowly, for every motion of his horse gave him pain.
Jack was soon out of sight around a bend of the trail. He flashed past his cottage, and thought with satisfaction that there was hot water on the range, so his father could make himself a cup of tea.
Jack paused long enough at Mrs. Watson's cabin to tell her what was the matter, and to inform her that he was taking the mail over the last mile of the route into town.
"Your father ill!" exclaimed Mrs. Watson. "I'll go right over there, Jack, and look after him."
"I wish you would. It will he awful good of you."
"Of course I'll go. Mary can look after things here," and she hurried into the house to get ready for her second trip that day to the Bailey cottage.
Jack galloped on, trusting to the sure-footedness of his pony to avoid the dangers of the rough mountain trail. And Sunger justified the confidence reposed in him.
"Hello! We've been wondering what kept you! Why, it's Jack!" exclaimed Jed Monty, the grizzled stage driver, as the lad galloped up to the Mansion Hotel, whence the start for the east was made.
"Sorry to be late, but dad's taken sick!" cried Jack, as he flung the bags to the driver.
"Sick, eh? That's too bad. Well, I guess I can make up the lost time. Haven't much of a load on to-night."
The stage was all ready to start, the few passengers having been impatiently waiting.
"Pile in!" cried Jed, and with a crack of his long whip he sent the four horses off at a gallop.
Jack did not linger, but, wheeling his pony, set off for the doctor's office, hoping he would find the physician in. He was fortunate in this respect, and Dr. Brown promised to come at once. Jack did not wait for him, however, but hastened back to the cottage.
There he found that Mrs. Watson had made his father some hot tea, which had relieved him somewhat. The look of pain was not so apparent now.
"The doctor will be here right away," Jack reported. "Now tell me how it happened, Dad. We were quite worried about you."
"Indeed we were, when you didn't come in on time, as you nearly always do," said Mrs. Watson.
"I can't tell just how it did happen," said the pony express rider, "but I was taken with a sharp and sudden pain soon after leaving Golden Crossing. I'd have turned back then, and gotten some one else to ride the route for me, but I knew there were important letters in the mail, and it had to come through. So I kept on, hoping I would get better. But I grew worse, and I had to slow up. I thought I'd never get here! But I did." And he shut his lips grimly.
Pony express riders have to be made of stern stuff and they have to keep on their routes in rain or shine, calm or storm; and often when it is torture to sit in the saddle on a galloping horse.
"You'd better get your supper, Jack," advised Mrs. Watson.
"No, I don't feel like eating," the lad objected.
"Yes, you'd better, son," said his father. "There's no telling what you may have to do tonight, and it is possible you will have to ride for me to-morrow, though I hope I'll be able. But eat, and keep up your strength."
This was good advice, and Jack realized it. So he sat down to the meal which Mrs. Watson had prepared as a finish to her housekeeping work earlier that day. Jack had scarcely finished when Dr. Brown came in, and spent some time ministering to Mr. Bailey.
The pony express rider felt much relieved after he had been given some quieting medicine, and as Dr. Brown was about to leave Mr. Bailey asked:
"Shall I be able to ride the route to-morrow?"
The physician shook his head.
"No, indeed!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that you have a severe illness. I'm afraid you're going to be laid up for several weeks, if