Jack of the Pony Express by Frank V. Webster
page 60 of 178 (33%)
page 60 of 178 (33%)
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held something in his hand, and Jack guessed it was this individual who had
struck him. All four of the men wore masks. "What--what does this mean?" faltered Jack, though he could pretty well guess. "Huh! Don't you know?" was the question shot back at him. He tried to distinguish the voice, but could not. It was the mounted man who had spoken. "A hold-up, eh?" asked Jack, his tones faltering in spite of his effort to make them steady. That this should come to him in spite of his watchfulness was a bitter thing. And a robbery, of all time, when the valuable papers and letters expected by Mr. Argent were in the mail pouches, too! There was also some valuable express matter. Jack gritted his teeth in anger. Then his hand moved toward the pocket where he carried his weapon. "No you don't!" was the sudden and fierce exclamation of the man on the horse beside him, and with a quick motion he caught hold of Jack's hand, and jerked it away. "Take his gun!" the man directed. "I'll hold him." One of the dismounted men came up, and while the man on the big horse held Jack in a cruel grip, another of the robbers brought out the revolver which Jack's father had given him to carry for protection. But it had afforded little of that in this instance. The young rider tried in vain to pierce behind the masks, and ascertain the identity of those holding him up, but it was of no avail. "What do you want? What's the game?" Jack asked, as the man let go of his |
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