pretty well banged up, old boy," and he patted his pony, which now had
gotten over his first fright.

Jack, whose wildly-beating heart had now somewhat calmed itself, stood
beside his faithful pony and considered what his next move had best be.
Among other thoughts was the one that he must, in some way, repair the
bridge so that any one coming after him would not slip through the holes
left where the misplaced planks had fallen into the stream.

"I can get a couple of logs or some big branches in the woods," thought
Jack, "and stick them in the holes."

Instinctively he looked to see if the mail and express pouches were safe.
Yes, there they were on the saddle front. None of them had slipped off when
the pony rider himself had so narrowly escaped.

Then, with a quick motion, Jack's hand went to the breast pocket of his
coat, where he had placed the small, sealed express package. To his
consternation he felt no bulky protuberance there, such as would have been
made by the parcel.

"Whew!" whistled Jack. "Great Scott! I hope I haven't lost that!"

It was very possible that he might have done so, for he remembered pitching
forward on his pony's neck, as he leaned over to save himself. The package
could easily have slipped from his pocket.

In a veritable frenzy of alarm, Jack rapidly searched through his other
pockets, thinking he might, by some chance, have thrust the valuable parcel
into one other than the first he had selected as being the most secure. But