Jethro Mix and Alden Payne, with their ponies on a walk, were riding side by side, and the colored youth had just made his decision not to reveal at that time the secret which weighed so heavily upon him, when his friend exclaimed:
“Helloa, Jeth! do you see that?”
In answer to his inquiring look, Alden, who had turned part way round in his saddle, pointed to the rear. Far in the distance, a dark object was seen, which was quickly recognized as a horseman coming with his animal on a dead run. He was not in a direct line behind the train, but a little to the south. If he kept to his course he would pass a couple of hundred yards to the south.
On he came with his half-breed pony running as if a hundred lives were at stake. He made swift, tremendous leaps, his thin neck outstretched, his flowing tail streaming straight behind, with his nose extended, as he strained every muscle to reach his destination without the loss of a minute. His rider was a small man, weighing not more than a hundred and twenty pounds, and his riding revealed a master of the art. He leaned slightly forward in the saddle, the front of his hat standing straight up as if plastered against his forehead, the ends of the handkerchief looped about his neck fluttering in the gale caused by his own swiftness, while he occasionally pricked the ribs of his horse with his spurs, though such urgency was hardly needed.
As he flashed opposite, the rhythmic thump of the pony’s hoofs on the sod was heard by the emigrants, all of whom were gazing at man and animal. The former’s garments fitted so snugly that only the fringes over and back of the shoulders, and those on the thighs quivered. The trousers were thrust into the tops of his boots, whose heels were high and pointed, and after the fashion among cowmen and plainsmen.
The watchers identified his character at once, and needed not the sight of the broad flat flaps fastened across the saddle, one in front and the other behind him. He glanced toward the train, and observing all eyes upon him, raised a hand in salutation, but did not speak or make any further acknowledgment of the cheers. In a twinkling the emigrants were gazing upon his back, the ends of the fluttering handkerchief, fringes of clothing, streaming tail and flying hoofs of the pony, which flung chunks of earth into the air as he skimmed away on the wings of the wind.
“A Pony Express Rider!” said Alden; “how he goes!”
“How long hab he been doing it?” asked Jethro.
“From the station five miles back, and he’ll keep it up till he reaches the next station farther on.”
“What den?”