Page:Edward Ellis--Alden the Pony Express Rider.djvu/68

 Jethro lifted his well worn hat and scratched his head.

“Dat’s so; I didn’t tink ob dat; blamed queer how it slipped my mind—what’s de matter wid Shagbark?”

Before the flying horseman vanished in the distance, the emigrant train resumed its slow progress. The massive guide, on the back of his gaunt steed, kept his place well in advance. Often he went for hours without looking back to note in what order the company were following him, but now he had turned like Alden did a few minutes before, and, without checking his steed or shifting his course, was gazing fixedly to the rear. His brierwood was between his lips, and from the thicket of whisker and mustache the blue vapor issued as if from the funnel of a small steamcraft.

At the moment the two youths looked at him, he raised one of his huge hands and beckoned.

“His eyes are on us,” said Alden.

“He’s looking at me,” added Jethro; “he feels bad at de way he snubbed me jest arter we started, and means to apolergize; he don’t want you; notice now. Gee up, Jilk!”

The negro twitched the rein, and his pony