hoops was bewildering in its swiftness. He sat firmly in the saddle, leaning slightly forward and now and then jerking down his hat which was in danger of being whisked off by the wind.
“What’s the use, Dick?” asked Alden. “Why not take things easier? But to do that would be to rob you of your enjoyment. Helloa! there’s something new!”
He was coursing over the undulating ground, when his gaze rested on a building half a mile away and in the line of Dick’s run. It was a low, flat structure of logs, such as is often seen on the frontier. At the rear was a covered inclosure and from the rough, stone chimney built at one end on the outside of the main building, rose a spiral of smoke—proof that the cabin had occupants.
“It’s the station!” exclaimed the rider the next moment. He observed three men standing in front, with a saddled horse near them. Evidently they were watching his approach.
It was the rule among Pony Express Riders that upon arriving within a half mile of a station, they should proclaim the fact by giving the “coyote yell.” This was notice to their
