honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as to win
the confidence of my employers. So help me God."[9]

It is not to be supposed that all, nor any considerable number of the
Pony Express men were saintly, nor that they all took their pledge too
seriously. Judged by present-day standards, most of these fellows were
rough and unconventional; some of them were bad. Yet one thing is
certain: in loyalty and blind devotion to duty, no group of employees
will ever surpass the men who conducted the Pony Express. During the
sixteen months of its existence, the riders of this wonderful
enterprise, nobly assisted by the faithful station-keepers, travelled
six hundred and fifty thousand miles, contending against the most
desperate odds that a lonely wilderness and savage nature could offer,
with the loss of only a single mail. And that mail happened to be of
relatively small importance. Only one rider was ever killed outright
while on duty. A few were mortally wounded, and occasionally their
horses were disabled. Yet with the one exception, they stuck grimly to
the saddle or trudged manfully ahead without a horse until the next
station was reached. With these men, keeping the schedule came to be a
sort of religion, a performance that must be accomplished - even though
it forced them to play a desperate game the stakes of which were life
and death. Many station men and numbers of riders while off duty were
murdered by Indians. They were martyrs to the cause of patriotism and a
newer and better civilization. Yet they were hirelings, working for good
wages and performing their duties in a simple, matter-of-fact way. Their
heroism was never a self-conscious trait.

The riders were young men, seldom exceeding one hundred and twenty-five
pounds in weight. Youthfulness, nerve, a wide experience on the frontier
and general adaptability were the chief requisites for the Pony Express