"Why, every one knows that wasn't your fault!" exclaimed Dr. Brown.
"Of course," chimed in Mrs. Watson.
"Well I can't help thinking that the Harrington crowd believes I was to blame," went on the pony express rider. "But I never let that letter get away from me. It never left my bag from the time it was put in until I delivered it. But I can't prove that, and I can't help worrying over what people think of me."
"You're foolish to let a thing like that annoy you," said Dr. Brown.
"That's what has helped to make you ill. Now you must take a good rest.
I'll be in to see you to-morrow."
"But what about the trail, Doctor? Some one will have to carry the mail."
"You can't!" exclaimed the physician, with decision. "That's certain!"
"I will, Dad, of course!" cried Jack. "Who has a better right than I?"
"Well, I'd like to see you do it, Jack, for I'd be sure the mail and express would be safe with you and Sunger," said the man. "But I don't know that the company will consent. You're not of age—"
"I couldn't ride any better if I were twenty-one than I can now," interrupted Jack. "I'll go to see Mr. Perkfeld the first thing in the morning. I'll meet the early stage and make the trip to Golden Crossing. Are they all well there?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound indifferent.
"Pretty well," answered his father. "Aunt Matilda is ailing a little, but Jennie is a big help. She handles all the mail alone now. Well, Jack, I guess it's the only thing to do. You see Perkfeld in the morning, and explain things. The only thing I'm afraid of is that he may make the Harrington matter an excuse to take the contract away from me. There are several who want to ride the trail in my place. But do the best you can."