"Something's wrong!" Ryan exclaimed, as he passed the spring. He looked about. The trail was dusty, but he could sec no signs of Jack's having dismounted, or indications that the lad had fallen and gotten up to the saddle again.
"Something's wrong," Ryan repeated. Then he put spurs to his horse and galloped down the trail toward Golden Crossing.
CHAPTER XX
AT GOLDEN CROSSING
"Jack is late, isn't he, Jennie?" asked Mrs. Blake, as she sat in the Golden Crossing post office. She had finished her sewing, and had stopped for a little chat.
"Well, you know he had to ride out and get the mail from the disabled stage coach," replied the girl, as she made some entries in her books. "And perhaps he had to go farther than the messenger said. There's plenty of time, though."
"Well, he's late," Mrs. Blake repeated. "I hope he doesn't have to make a night trip."
"So do I," her daughter murmured, as she thought of the time Jack had been held up. "It isn't likely he will, though. You know, Mr. Perkfeld said he needn't make those night trips any more unless there was something very important."
"You never can tell when some important matter will come in though," resumed Mrs. Blake, after a pause, during which she had gone to the window to peer down the trail in the direction from which Jack would come. "And isn't he expecting something for Mr. Argent?"
"Yes, and that is the only thing I'm worrying about," confessed Jennie. "If those letters come in Jack will be sure to want to ride off with them at once, night or day. And we won't know when the letters do arrive until the mail sacks come here and I open them."