"You seem to forget that he also took those valuable letters," Jack remarked.
"No, I'm not forgetting it," the marshal said, "but to my way of thinking that ain't half so bad a crime as taking your horse. And I'd say the same thing if he took any other horse, or one of mine. I just naturally hate a horse thief!"
"That's right!" chimed in several of the men in the posse.
There were no places, or, rather, only one or two places, along the mountain trail, where inquiries could be made as to whether or not the robber—or some night-rider—had passed. But at such lonely cabins as Jack and his friends came to they roused the inmates and put their questions.
"Seems to me I did hear a hoss gallopin' about an hour back," said one old man. "I thought maybe it was the pony express goin' through, though, so I didn't pay no attention."
"I wish it had been the pony express," murmured Jack regretfully. "If I had taken the letters on the night ride I might have gotten safely through with them."
"I don't hardly believe it," the marshal told him. "I guess those outlaws were watching the trail. They were bound to get them, and when they found you weren't going through with 'em they came in and blowed the safe."
"I suppose so," murmured Jack.