Jack of the Pony Express | Page 7

Frank V. Webster
important-looking
document whereon her 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
to make certain, changes, and--"
"Changes!" cried Jack, in some surprise. "I hope you aren't thinking of
going away!"
"Oh, no indeed!" Jennie answered. "We like it too well here. But
mother has a 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 post office properly. So I said I'd apply for the
place. I know all about the work," Jennie went on, "for whenever
mother went away I used to look after the mail. Tim does the heavy
work, lifting the pouches and packages and all that," and she indicated

a red-haired and freckled lad named Timothy Mullane, a genial Irish
chap, who did odd jobs around the post office, and in the settlement of
Golden Crossing.
"So, with Tim to help me, I felt that I might just as well be the
full-fledged postmistress," the girl went on. "As soon as mother had
arranged 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 my
letter," Jennie said. "I thought he appointed all postmasters and
postmistresses. But I had an answer from some official of the post
office department, and I received the appointment!" she laughed in
conclusion.
"So after this, Mr. Jack Bailey, of the pony express, you'll get the mail
from me and deliver it to me."
"No greater pleasure, I'm sure," Jack answered with a low bow, and he
also laughed. "When did all this happen?" he asked.
"The letter came yesterday," Jennie answered.
"And I received my temporary appointment this morning," Jack said.
"You didn't beat me by very much, Jennie! Shake!" and with true
western good fellowship, Jack held out his hand, meeting the warm
clasp of the pretty and smiling girl.
The two young persons found much to talk about. Jennie was sorry to
hear of the illness of "Uncle Pete," as she called him, and when her
mother came in to 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
friends secured for her the place as postmistress of Golden Crossing.
She managed to make a living from the money received in this way,

and from the sewing she was able to do for the residents of the
settlement.
And now, as she explained to Jack, her needlework would take up
much of her time, so she and Jennie planned that the latter should be
made postmistress so 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 a
young 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. "But now we must talk business. Let me have your slips to sign,
and here is a registered letter that you'd better put in an inside pocket
where the stage robbers won't find it," and she laughed merrily at her
joke.
There was considerable routine work attached to the post office and to
the pony 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 his pony, Sunger, had already been sent off on the outgoing
stage.
"Will you ride back to-night, after the other stage comes in, or will you
stay 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. "I
stopped there on my way here, and Harry Ward said he was going to
ride in to 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 stay over night, and be in early to-morrow morning."
"That would be a good idea," said Mrs. Blake. "We'll try and make you
comfortable, Jack."

"Oh, you won't have to try very hard," he laughed. Jennie blushed and
smiled, and Mrs. Blake looked wise.
Jack spent that afternoon helping Jennie straighten up her post office,
for she had determined on a new
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