Alden the Pony Express rider : $b or, Racing for lifeEllis, Edward Sylvester
General
Alden the Pony Express rider : $b or, Racing for life
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Pony express -- Juvenile fiction
Only one door was sawed in front. It was made of massive planking and
swung on big iron hinges. All round the four sides were windows, none
of which had panes. They were too narrow for the slimmest man that
ever lived to squeeze through. When the storms beat against one side
of the cabin, the openings there were closed by means of small, wooden
shutters, turning on hinges of leather.
In the event of Indian attack――which impended at almost any hour of the
day or night――these loopholes were useful to the defenders. At other
times, they helped in the way of ventilation and the lighting of the
apartment.
The meal was ready when Alden Payne was waved by Jenkins to one of the
stools at the side of the table, which consisted of three unplaned
boards. A huge roast of venison, done to a turn, and resting on a
big tin platter was the main dish. There were thick slices, too, of
well-baked bread, though nothing in the way of butter or vegetables.
But Jenkins filled each large cup from the capacious pot simmering on
the stove, and the fragrant odor was delightful to the keen appetites.
Condensed milk answered well for the real article, and few meals were
more palatable than that eaten by Alden at this mail station in the
wilds of the West. Right glad was he that his host had insisted upon
his tarrying for that purpose. Nothing could have braced him better for
the task before him.
CHAPTER XVIII
OUTWITTED
Although the meal lasted but a few minutes, much was said. Harper and
Altman developed a talkative streak and had much to tell their guest.
The three had been located at the station for more than two months
during a portion of which time “business was lively.” Only a fortnight
before, the cabin underwent a siege for three days and nights from
a large party of Piutes, who peppered the logs well. They ran off a
couple of ponies, but Harper and Jenkins recovered both after a long
pursuit.
The redskins circled about the structure and fired through the windows,
but did not harm any of the defenders, who picked off two or three
of them. Things might have turned out ill had not one of the Express
Riders carried the news to the nearest fort which hurried a squad of
cavalry to the spot.
There had been no trouble with the Indians since, though parties now
and then appeared in the distance as if reconnoitering. It was not to
be expected that they would remain tranquil much longer.
“What kind of a route is it to the next station?” asked Alden, when the
party had gone outside and he had mounted.
“Pretty much like what you’ve ridden over. Some stretches of good
ground, with plenty of ravines and gullies and two or three streams to
cross, but you couldn’t have a better season.”
“The pony seems to be a good one; I shall be satisfied if he is the
equal of Dick.”
“He’s tough and fast; I think he once belonged to a circus, for he
knows a good many tricks.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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