Part 12 (2/2)
”That is I hope I did,” interposed the pony express rider. ”Maybe they have looted the bags, though they feel as full as when I look them from Golden Crossing.”
”Well, we can soon tell,” replied Mr. Argent. ”It's getting light enough to see. The locks have been forced, anyhow, so it isn't any crime for us to open the United States' mail under these circ.u.mstances.”
Jack and his rescuers gathered around while the miner opened the bags. They were filled with letters, papers and small parcels.
”There was some stuff for you, Mr. Argent,” said Jack. ”It was the matter you were expecting, I think.”
”Yes,” a.s.sented the miner.
”I think I played a trick on the robbers,” Jack went on. ”At least I fixed up a trick, whether it worked or not we'll have to see now. I put your stuff inside a roll of newspapers thinking they wouldn't look there.”
”Good plan,” said the miner. ”I get your idea. But some of the bundles of papers have been opened. Maybe the hold-up men thought they would find something to eat inside.”
Jack's heart fell at these words. If the robbers had opened the packages of newspapers it must have been because they expected to find something hidden in one of them. And the only thing that was hidden was the parcel of valuable letters.
”They evidently opened the bags, looked through the contents, and, after putting the stuff back in them, hid the pouches in the hole,” said Mr.
Argent, as he picked up and looked at several packages of newspapers.
”That's the one I wrapped your stuff in, Mr. Argent,” said Jack, pointing to one newspaper packet. ”But--but it's been opened!” he cried, as he saw, in the fast-coming morning light, what had happened.
”Yes, it's been opened,” the miner agreed. His voice seemed strangely calm and collected.
”Are--are the letters gone?” faltered Jack.
”Well, they don't seem to be here,” went on the miner, while the others looked on, somewhat at a loss what to make of the little scene. ”No, there's nothing here belonging to me, Jack. Are you sure you put the sealed stuff inside this bundle of papers?”
”I'm positive!” Jack answered. ”I remember it very well. It was the only bundle of papers with that kind of a wrapper.”
For a moment there was a silence in the group.
”Well, they are gone,” Mr. Argent went on.
Once more Jack wondered at the peculiar manner in which the miner spoke.
”I--I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Argent,” said Jack, brokenly. ”I thought I was doing the best thing to put the letters inside a newspaper bundle. I figured that the thieves would pa.s.s that over as of no importance. I had read of such things being done.”
”But I guessed wrong. They must have been looking for the things you expected. They must have been on the watch, and were waiting for me to hold me up. I'm awfully sorry!”
Jack thought of the suspicion that had been directed against his father because the contents of a letter entrusted to him had been made public. Now the son had failed in a trust. It was no excuse to say it could not be helped. The valuable letters were gone, and that alone mattered now. Jack saw himself disgraced, and the pony express route ridden by some one else.
”I'm--I'm awfully sorry,” he said again.
”Oh, you needn't be!” exclaimed Mr. Argent, and he was actually laughing.
”You needn't be.”
”Needn't be! What--what do you mean?” gasped Jack.
”Why I mean that those robbers have had their trouble for their pains!
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