If Jack could have looked back into the restaurant
he would have been surprised to see the same Ryan
hastily leave, soon after he himself had come out.
And the same Ryan left most of his dinner untouched.
“What’s the matter, don’t you like
the grub?” asked the waiter, as Ryan hurried
out.
“Sure, it’s all right!” and he tossed
him a tip. “But I forgot I had an engagement,”
and with that he jumped into his saddle and rode off.
But not in the direction Jack had taken.
“My, my!” said Jack, talking to himself
as he galloped along, “that coffee certainly
was bitter. It seems to be getting worse—that
taste in my mouth. I believe it’s giving
me a head ache, too. I certainly do feel queer—sort
of dizzy. Maybe it was the hot sun. I’ll
cool off at the spring. But I do feel so queer,”
and Jack passed his hand across his forehead.
A DESPERATE RIDE
Nearing the spring, where he had taken a drink before
that day, Jack was about to dismount to get some cooling
water. But such a strange feeling of weakness
and dizziness came over him that he had to hold himself
in the saddle.
“I—I’m afraid if I get out
I won’t be able to get up again,” he murmured
weakly. “Sunger, what’s the matter
with me, I wonder?”
Then, ill as he felt himself becoming, like a flash
an idea came to Jack. The meaning of it all came
to him instantly.
“I’ve been drugged!” he said, hoarsely.
“That Ryan! That was his game. He
drugged my coffee, that time when he made me turn around!
I saw him putting back my cup! He put some drug
in my coffee to make me unconscious!”
For a moment the thought of the desperate trick that
had been played on him made Jack so angry that he
succeeded in fighting off the feeling of weakness
and dizziness. But it was only for a moment.
Then it came back with increasing distress.
“That was the game,” he murmured, scarcely
able to see now. “He probably had doped
the whiskey in that flask, but I didn’t take
that. Then he watched his chance, urged me to
take something to eat with him, and put some drug
in my coffee. No wonder it tasted bitter and queer!
What a simpleton I was to take it! But I did
not know.”
Jack was reeling in the saddle. The pony sensed
that something was wrong with his master, and stopped.
“No, don’t stop! Go on! Go on!”
urged Jack. “Oh, what am I going to do?”
he murmured. “I’m on a lonely trail,
with the valuable mail and express. That’s
what Ryan counts on. He thinks I’ll fall
by the wayside and he can come up and get what he
wants when I’m unconscious.
“But what is it he wants? The Argent letters,
of course. That’s what he’s after!
He’s drugged me. He’s going to give
me time to fall in a faint, and then he’s coming
along to rob the mail. The Argent letters must
be in the sacks that aren’t opened. He
must have found that out in some way, and have been
on the watch for me.
