Sammy on my neck
again--inspector started out with me this morning."

"The devil he did!" cried Jim indignantly, well knowing the hardships and
dangers of the big rider's route.

"Oh, it's all right!" replied Bud with a wave of his hand. "Come out
fine. When the lad first told me he'd been sent out to see why the mails
was so late on this line, I told him I'd show him right on the spot, but
he said there was no use getting hot about it, as he was only doing his
duty, so I quieted down.

"He was a decent sort of feller. I thought to myself before we got under
way, 'Now, there won't nothing happen this day--everything'll go as
smooth and slick as grease, and this feller will report that I'm
sojering,' that's the way it usually works, you know. But this time I
played in luck.

"Two miles out of town we ran into a wild-eyed gang from somewhere, who
was going to make us dance. We didn't dance, and I'll say for that
inspector that he stood by me like a man, but he was awful sick at his
stomach later on from the excitement.

"Next thing, the bridge was down at Squaw Creek, and we swum her. He'd
have gone down the flume, if I hadn't got hold of his bridle. 'Nice mail
route, this,' says he, as he got ashore. 'Oh, you'd like it,' says I, 'if
you got used to it.' I'd begun to wonder what was next myself. Ain't many
people swimming Squaw Creek, as you perhaps know.

"Well, next was about ten mile along, just before you come to the old
Tin-cup Camp. We was passing the bluff there, and all of a sudden, rip,
thump, biff! Down comes what looked like the whole side a-top of us. It
weren't though. It was only a cinnamon had lost his balance, leaning over
too far to see what we was. That bear landed right agin brother
inspector's horse, and brother inspector's horse tried to climb a tree.
Inspector himself fell a-top of the bear. I dassent shoot, for the devil
himself couldn't have told which was inspector and which bear. Finally
bear shakes himself loose and telescopes himself up the canyon, the worst
scared animile in the country. 'If you'll ketch my horse, I'll amble back
again,' says the inspector. 'I've investigated this route pretty
thorough, and find it's just as you say. Lamp-posts'll do me all right
for a while.' Come out fine, didn't it?

"Whish there! Untie yourself, you yaller bone-heap!" And the mail was a
quarter of a mile up the trail.

Jim pondered the information concerning Ches carefully, only to adhere to
his