That last forty-eight miles I rode mercilessly--for the demon of hurry was again urging me on.

At ten o'clock I rolled stiffly off the buckskin at the Osage station, walked more stiffly into the office, and asked for a message.

The operator handed me two, and looked at me with much curiosity--but I suppose I was a sight.

The first was to tell me that a special would be ready at ten-thirty, and that the road would be cleared for it.

I had not thought about a special--Osage being so far from Frisco; but Crawford was a wonder, and he had a long arm.