Buffalo Bill and the Overland Trail / Being the story of how boy and man worked hard and played hard to blaze the white trail, by wagon train, stage coach and pony express, across the great plains and the mountains beyond, that the American republic might expand and flourish

by Edwin L. Sabin

In a cloud of dust from the braced hoofs and locked wheels Gentleman Bob halted with the leaders’ fore hoofs almost touching Tom.

“What’s the matter here?”

Tom’s face, grimy and streaked and pinched with pain, gazed up agonizedly, but he did not mince words. The Pony Express rider was superior even to a stage driver.

“Catch that horse for me. I’ve broken my leg.”

Down from the box nimbly swung Mr. Mayfield; jamming his brakes tighter and tying the lines short, down swung Gentleman Bob. Down clambered Dave.

“How’d it happen?”

“Fell and threw me. Catch him and help me on; and hurry up.”

“Catch him, Jack; you and Dave,” bade Bob, crisply. “Where’s it broken, Tom?”

“High up, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll ride if it kills me. I’m late now.”

Luckily the horse was easily caught; his dragging lines, entangled in a sage clump, held him until Mr. Mayfield laid hand upon them. When Dave, with Mr. Mayfield leading the horse, returned into the road and hustled back to Bob and Tom, Bob was arguing tensely.