“I have never been over the run just finished; I left everything to the pony and he did not go astray.”
Alden did not think it worth while to tell of his adventure in the gorge while coming through the ridge.
“You’re correct as to the ponies; all of them have been over the road long enough to become familiar with it. What do you say, Tom?” asked Jenkins, turning to the relief rider.
“Well, I ain’t partic’lar,” replied the wiry fellow, who despite his youthful looks, was a veteran of the plains; “I expected to ride, if anything happened to Dick, but this young chap seems to have set his heart on it and I don’t want to spoil his fun.”
Alden’s eyes sparkled. Having begun the run, almost from the beginning, he was ambitious to complete it.
“Then it’s settled,” said he, dropping from the saddle, and stepping across to the waiting animal.
“Hold on a minute,” interposed Jenkins; “being as you ain’t a reg’lar you needn’t be as strict as they have to be.”
“What do you mean?” asked the puzzled Alden fearing that he was to be subjected to some vexatious handicap.
“It’s a good fifteen miles to the next station and most of the way is so rough that your horse will have to walk; there are a few stretches where you can let him out, but, for all that, you won’t reach the station till well into the night.”
“What of that?”