Part 5 (2/2)
Was this because of the letter that had put his father under suspicion--the Harrington epistle--or was it because of false reports being spread by those who wanted Jack's place?
Something of what was pa.s.sing through Jack's mind seemed to communicate itself to the mining a.s.sayist, whose name was Payson Wayde. He smiled at our hero, and said:
”Don't worry, my lad. It isn't that I think you wouldn't carry the mail safely. It's that I have just heard something,” he went on, turning to Mr.
Argent, ”that makes it advisable to postpone the sending of those letters now. Hold them until we can investigate a bit.”
”Oh, that's different,” the miner said. ”I thought from the way you spoke that you didn't want Jack to take them.”
”Well, I don't; that is, I don't want him to take them just yet. Perhaps you won't want to send them for a week or more after you hear what I have to say,” he went on to his employer. ”But when we do send them you shall take them, Jack,” he said, with a smile of confidence.
The young pony express lad felt better on hearing this.
”Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked the two men.
”Not this trip, Jack, I guess,” was the answer from Mr. Argent. ”I may have something for you day after to-morrow, though. Not these letters, but some more samples I want checked up. I'll see you on your return trip.”
”All right, Mr. Argent. Then I'll be getting along.” And, having secured his pouches of mail and express stuff to the saddle, Jack leaped to the back of Sunger and was off at a gallop.
”A fine lad,” murmured Mr. Wayde to the miner, as they turned back to the hotel.
”Yes, indeed. I was afraid you were going to hurt his feelings by saying it wouldn't be safe to send mail by him.”
”Oh, no, indeed. I guess you can trust him, can't you?”
”I should say so! Jack is really doing his father's work, you see, Mr.
Bailey being laid up with a severe illness. Jack is working hard to make good on this express route, and I'd hate to see him lose it, though there are several around here who would be glad to take his place. But what's up--why didn't you want me to mail these letters, after our agreement of last night?”
”I'll tell you. I think some of your enemies have gotten wind of what is going on.”
”You mean about the new claim I'm going to stake?”
”Hus.h.!.+” the other cautioned him. ”No use in talking secrets out here. Come to my room and I'll tell you all about it. Perhaps it may be well to take Jack Bailey into your confidence a little later. You can decide on that after I've told you just what came to me.”
”Well, it all seems a bit mysterious,” commented Mr. Argent, ”but maybe you know what you're talking about.”
And as Jack rode off on his usual trip, the two mining men went into the hotel deeply engaged in conversation.
Jack had several stops to make that morning before getting on the more lonesome part of the trail, where he could give Sunger free rein to make as good time as possible. In some places this would only be a walk, for the road was treacherous and difficult. In other places along a comparatively level slope, or down grade, Sunger would make up for lost time.
As Jack made a turn in the road, he saw, riding ahead of him, two men on horseback. They turned in their saddles at the sound of his steed's hoof-beats, and Jack recognized one of the men as Jake Tantrell. The other man was a stranger to the pony rider.
”I hope Jake doesn't take it into his head to give me some mean talk now,”
mused Jack.
He made up his mind not to speak to the fellow, but he reckoned without Jake. For as Jack came up the bully held up a hand as a signal to halt.
Jack was not a little apprehensive at first, but Jake, in surly tones, only asked:
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