I did not hesitate for a moment to undertake an extra ride of eighty-five miles to Rocky Ridge, and I arrived at the latter place on time.

I then turned back and rode to Red Buttes, my starting place, accomplishing on the round trip a distance of 322 miles.
[Illustration: I IMMEDIATELY CHANGED HORSES] Slade heard of this feat of mine, and one day as he was passing on a coach he sang out to me, "My boy, you're a brick, and no mistake.

That was a good run you made when you rode your own and Miller's routes, and I'll see that you get extra pay for it." Slade, although rough at times and always a dangerous character--having killed many a man--was always kind to me.

During the two years that I worked for him as pony express-rider and stage-driver, he never spoke an angry word to me.
As I was leaving Horse Creek one day, a party of fifteen Indians "jumped me" in a sand ravine about a mile west of the station.

They fired at me repeatedly, but missed their mark.