Jennie screamed, but Jack, flashing past her to get
outside, yelled:
“Stop him! Get after him! He’s
one of the fellows who held up the mail, and robbed
me! Stop him!”
Jack fired in the air to attract attention, for the
neighborhood was deserted. He could not bring
himself to fire at the man, nor even at the splendid
horse. Though the provocation was great, and though
Jack would have been justified, he could not do it.
“Stop him! He’s a post office robber!”
Jack yelled, again firing a shot Then, leaping on
the back of his pony which was waiting for him outside
the building, Jack gave chase after the escaping outlaw.
“We’ve got to get him, Sunger!”
he cried. “We’ve got to get him!”
A CAUTION
Shots always attract attention, especially in a western
community where they usually mean something.
In cities there are so many noises constantly being
heard, and back-fires and tire blow-outs from automobiles
so nearly resemble the discharge of firearms, that
if a revolver actually were to be fired in a crowded
street it is hardly likely that it would attract notice.
But in the quiet little western town of Golden Crossing
shots were rather a novelty. The place was peaceful
and law-abiding, and, as was said, when pistol reports
were heard, there usually was some good reason for
them.
In consequence, when Jack shot off his revolver, it
was not long before the main street in front of the
post office was thronged.
Men came rushing out of stores and houses, and there
appeared also not a few women and children. Jack,
racing down the street after the escaping outlaw,
looked back and saw that he was able to call for reinforcements.
One man had already jumped on his horse and was joining
in the chase.
“What’s the row?”
“It’s one of the men who held me up!”
exclaimed Jack in answer.
“We’ll get him!” was yelled back,
and several more men hurried to loosen the tie-straps
of their horses to lend their aid.
“I don’t know whether we’ll get
him or not,” Jack mused, as he urged his pony
on. “He’s got a good start of us,
and that horse of his can go some, or I miss my guess.
Besides, he’s a regular ox, and can keep going
for hours at a time.
“You’re all right, Sunger, and there isn’t
a better pony living,” Jack went on, “but
it’s like putting a little runabout auto up against
a big racing car. It isn’t equal.
Still we’ll do our best.”
Several men were now taking part in the chase.
The first one who had heard what Jack said had passed
the word to the others, and the posse, so hastily
organized, understood what sort of man they were after.
Some of the men were miners, and others were rough
characters—that is rough in the sense that
they lived in the open and were ready for whatever
came along. Some of them began firing their “guns,”
as they called their revolvers, but there was no chance
of hitting the fleeing man, as he was now out of sight
beyond a turn in the trail. Realizing this the
men fired in the air, hoping, perhaps, that the sound
of the shots would intimidate the fellow, and cause
him to stop.
