The thud of the hoofs gained rapidly.
Closer they came, and Alex headed off farther from the fence. Perhaps he’ll be afraid to put the horse at the wire, he thought hopefully. He glanced back. The cowman was wheeling off for the jump.
In despair Alex looked over the long mile still separating him from the train, and again over his shoulder. Would the horse make it? He slightly slowed his steps as the animal made the rush.
It went over like a bird.
Gritting his teeth, Alex dashed straight back for the fence. “I’ll make him jump his head off before he gets me, anyway,” he said grimly. Flogging the pony, the cowman endeavored to head the boy off, but Alex reached the wire, and dove safely through. Scrambling to his feet, he was on again, this time keeping closer to the fence.
It was as the pony drew up abreast fifty feet distant, and while the train was still a good mile away, that the idea of signalling for help on the fence-wire occurred to Alex. He acted immediately. Catching up a good-sized stone, he ran forward, and on the topmost wire, near one of the posts, pounded with all his might the telegraph dot letters “Oh! Oh! Orr! Orr!”
Munson had pulled up as Alex ran for the fence. When the boy began pounding the wire he at once recognized its purpose, and sprang from his horse, drawing his pistol.
Instantly Alex darted on, carrying the stone. The cowman ran after. But the man was slow on his feet, and despite his fatigue, Alex drew away from him.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” cried the cow-puncher. “Pull up! I will!”
“Go ahead, and they’ll hear you at the train!” called Alex, though secretly trembling. The cowman hesitated, then returned the revolver to its holster, and ran back for his horse. Immediately Alex was again at the wire, pounding out, “Oh! Oh! Orr! Orr!”