Thurston shook his head and smiled.
"You couldn't do it," he said. "You, a English gentleman—a titled lord, I'm told. You couldn't do it. You gotter be some horseman 'fore you kin ride in the Pony Express. You gotter be brought up to it. 'Tain't no fancy amatoor job."
"Here, Jim, old pard," interposed Nick Undrell. "You'd best dry up. You dunno who you'se talkin' to, sure. His lordship rid in the Pony Express 'fore ever you shoved your toes in stirrups. He was the slickest Express rider along the whole trail. Thar wasn't a skilfuller horseman than Kiddie between Saint Joseph an' Sacramento. Couldn't do it, says you! Well, I should smile!"
"Kiddie, d'ye say? Kiddie? Gee! You never told me that! Course I knows the name o' Kiddie—same's I knows the name of the President of th' United States. Seems I bin makin' a fool o' myself, eh? Reckon it's up ter me t' apologize fer mistakin' him for a English lord; though some crooked-tongued skunk sure told me he was such. Kiddie, eh? Gee!"
"Say, Kiddie, was you plumb serious when you said you'd take Jim's turn in the Pony Express?" questioned Rube Carter, riding again at Kiddie's side.
"Sure," Kiddie smiled in answer. "I'm just hankerin' to be at the old job again, ridin' at top speed with the mail bags, same as I used ter do. Same as your father did. Your father lost his life in the business, you know. Was attacked by Injuns. And Eye-of-the-Moon—Broken Feather's father—went off with his scalp."
Rube was silent for a while.
"Didn't know 'bout the scalpin'," he said presently. "Didn't know as it were Eye-of-the-Moon as done it. Then, in that case, Broken Feather's father killed my father?"
"That's so. Guess you've got no occasion ter be anyways friendly with Broken Feather."
"Pity you allowed him t' escape," said Rube.