Morning came. At least the dawn was heralded in the east, where the dark clouds turned to pink, growing brighter and brighter, until the sun himself peeped above the horizon.
The posse with which Jack was riding had come almost all the way to Rainbow Ridge, and so far had not had a sight of the robber or any of his confederates, if he had any, which was scarcely to be doubted.
"Well, boys, we may as well go back, I guess," the marshal said. "We'll have to organize a regular hunt, and scatter through the mountains. But we'll have to go back and get some grub. I'm getting hungry, and a man can't hunt a horse thief on an empty stomach."
"That's right!" several of the men agreed.
"Why not keep on?" some one asked. "We can get to Rainbow Ridge quicker than we can to Golden Crossing."
"That's true," added Jack. "I'd ask you all to our cabin, but there's nothing there to eat, since dad is being taken care of by Mrs. Watson."
"Oh, we can get grub easily enough," the sheriff said. "I guess it will be as well to go on to Rainbow Ridge. We want to spread the news there anyhow, and get some men out after the robbers from this end. And I suppose you'll have to report the robbery, won't you?" he asked Jack.
"Yes," replied the pony express rider, and his voice was sad. "I'll have to admit that they got the best of me."
"Oh, shucks! It wasn't your fault at all!" declared the marshal. "Those fellows were bound to get the letters, and if they didn't one way they would another. You couldn't help it."
"But I was asleep right alongside the safe."