"That's what we must!" cried Tim Mullane, one of the first on the scene.
Jack slipped on his shoes, and, with a lantern, hurried across to where Sunger was stabled. As he approached the place the open door made his heart sink.
"If he has taken Sunger—" he faltered.
That was what the masked robber had done. The pony's stall was vacant. Jack felt a fierce longing to do something desperate. This was the last straw.
"Sunger gone! Sunger gone!" Jack repeated, blankly.
He did not want to believe it, but there was nothing else to do. The masked robber had made his escape on Jack's speedy mount.
By this time all those living in the vicinity of the post office were aroused. They came, hastily dressed, mostly men and boys, to crowd into the small place and look at the wrecked safe.
"That job was done by professionals all right," said the town marshal. "That's no amateur work. He just put some of the nitroglycerine in a crack between the door and the casing, or maybe in a hole he bored, and touched it off with a fuse. Yes, it was a neat job."
"Neat!" Jock exclaimed, rather indignantly. "When he took that valuable package? Neat!"
"Oh well, you know what I mean," the marshal said. "Now, boys, we've got to get these fellows, and get after them hard!"