Since the afternoon was drawing to a close and the train was several miles to the rear, Alden was on the point of suggesting that they make their way back to their friends, when both were startled by the noise of a horse’s hoofs behind them. They looked round at the same instant.
“A Pony Express Rider,” said Alden, “and he’s coming our way.”
Such was the fact. Despite the slope, the man’s horse continued on a gallop until he came alongside the couple. Then he reined up and rode with them.
“I can’t well afford to wait,” he explained, “but it won’t do to push my pony too hard. I am glad to have company a little way.”
“And we are glad to have you,” responded Alden.
The man who addressed them looked no older than themselves, but he was more than twenty years of age. His face was smooth shaven, his complexion clear and his eyes bright. His weight could not have been much above a hundred pounds, and a glance revealed his perfect horsemanship. Alden noted the mail pouches strapped one in front of his knees and the other behind him, and each se-
