dad."

He set off on foot, but came running back.

"I'll get Sunger," he told himself, speaking aloud, a habit engendered by
the lonliness of the mountains. "He's quite a way off yet, but Sunger will
make short work of the distance."

Though the sound of the approaching footsteps of the horse of the pony
express rider could be plainly heard by Jack, so clear and resonant was the
mountain air, he realized that his father had yet nearly half a mile to
travel.

Leaping to the saddle of his pony, and patting the animal lovingly on the
neck, Jack set off once more. He went quickly, for Sunger was fresh and
eager.

In a few minutes Jack turned at a place where the trail followed a great
rocky ledge, and in front of him, almost collapsed in the saddle was a man.
He seemed to sit on his horse only by a great effort, and on his face was a
drawn look of pain.

"Why, Dad!" cried Jack. "What's the matter? Has anything happened? Did they
hold up the mail?"

"No, the mail and other stuff is all right," was the answer, broken by an
exclamation of pain. "But I'm all in, Jack. I'm afraid I'm going to be
quite ill. It was all I could do to ride the last few miles, but I wouldn't
give in."