“Don't say any more,” said the driver, “that's jest the kind of snap I want to git into to night.” So, putting up his horses he shouldered the mail bags, and across to St. Louis the party travelled.
The proprietors of the anxious city journals, alarmed at the delay of the express, resolved to despatch telegraphs in search of them; and, having charged three with the electric fluid, off they started—and Morse's invention aint a beginning to the way the St. Louis specimens travelled. Across the ice—slap—dash—up the side of the ferry boat, and up the hill. Here were collected about fifty Illinois market wagons, and a corresponding number of suckers. A group of these latter were gathered around a large fire, discussing the probability of being able to cross the ice to St. Louis, on the succeeding day. A telegraph inquired of one of these, if he had seen anything of the express. “No, I haint,” says he, “but I hev got first rate butter, at two bitts a pound!”
“Melt your butter!” shouted an indignant telegraph. “Come and show us the road out to Pap's house, captain,” said another. The marketeer started a few rods with him, and then, as if a sudden thought hit him, looked at the telegraph gent, and, pointing his finger at him, he slowly remarked—“No you don't hoss! I jest see right through you.”
“Why, you fool, don't you see by my appearance that I am a gentleman?” inquired telegraph. The sucker marketeer drew off a few paces, to be ready to run, and then shouted—“Yes, I've seen jest sich gentleman fellars as you in the penitentiary!” and off he dashed, congratulating himself on his escape from robbery.
Away went the telegraphs again, heading for Pap's house, a stopping place about one mile from the ferry, and while one led the way, the other two, wishing to slip him, hid on the road-side, but the rival telegraph seated himself in the road to wait for the appearance of his company. As there was no way, in the clear moonlight, to get round him unobserved, they came out and again started. Now for it!—best man at Pap's first! Away they started, “lickety-click,” and arrived at the winning-post within touching distance of each other. After rapping up the bar-keeper they seated themselves by the stove, leisurely warmed up, and then inquired how soon they expected the stage along. “It passed here with the message, full twenty minutes ago!” was the answer.
Clear the track!—hey!—here was news. Three important aids of two printing establishments, two miles from their offices, and the message there! Now commenced a stampede unknown to Fashion—down to the river—on to the ice;—pit—pat—pat—pit—slip—slide—bang!—and down he goes “up, boys, and at it again.” The island was reached in safety. Here was a dangerous gap, at which stood a foot passenger afraid to cross. “Look out,” he shouted, “you'll get in there.”
“Get thunder!—get out of the road!” shouted the foremost—through they dashed—the last sticking his leg through a feet, and the city side was gained like a flash of lightning. The leading telegraph reached the composing room of an enterprising city paper, just as the foreman was shouting—proof!