"Yes, Jack, it is. I can't get that off my mind."

"Why, every one knows that wasn't your fault!" exclaimed Dr. Brown.

"Of course," chimed in Mrs. Watson.

"Well I can't help thinking that the Harrington crowd believes I was to
blame," went on the pony express rider. "But I never let that letter get
away from me. It never left my bag from the time it was put in until I
delivered it. But I can't prove that, and I can't help worrying over what
people think of me."

"You're foolish to let a thing like that annoy you," said Dr. Brown.
"That's what has helped to make you ill. Now you must take a good rest.
I'll be in to see you to-morrow."

"But what about the trail, Doctor? Some one will have to carry the mail."

"You can't!" exclaimed the physician, with decision. "That's certain!"

"I will, Dad, of course!" cried Jack. "Who has a better right than I?"

"Well, I'd like to see you do it, Jack, for I'd be sure the mail and
express would be safe with you and Sunger," said the man. "But I don't know
that the company will consent. You're not of age--"

"I couldn't ride any better if I were twenty-one than I can now,"
interrupted Jack. "I'll go to see Mr. Perkfeld the first thing in the
morning. I'll meet the early stage and make the trip to Golden Crossing.