Young, skinny, wiry fellows, not over 18. Must be expert riders, willing to risk death daily. Orphans preferred. Wages $25 per week. Apply PONY EXPRESS OFFICE.
The Pony Express was created to get the mail form coast to coast. Boys became men, I...
The golden blonde stared at the advertisement posted on bulletin board outside of the Russell, Majors, and Waddell office in Saint Joe, Missouri. With a quick glance around, she located an alley off to the side of the building and ducked into it. A tug brought her hat off, allowing her to stuff her blonde braid up under the charcoal grey headpiece. Another glance around showed no one had noticed, before she stepped back onto the boardwalk and into the newly created Pony Express office.
"Can I help you young man?", the grey haired clerk behind the desk asked.
"Yes, I'm here to sign up for the Pony Express, sir.", the 'young man' replied.
Without a second glance clerk pulled out a piece of paper, setting it and a quill pen out on the desk.
"Can you read son?", he queried.
The 'boy' nodded, swiftly scanning the paper. It was an agreement to work for the Pony Express, with room for a signature at the bottom. With sure strokes, Kylie Ierland, became Kyle Ierland: Pony Express Rider.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A line of eight boys stood against the fence that stood next to the big red barn that was a landmark of the Devil's Gate Pony Express station. Run by Elson Ross, his wife Trudy, and their daughter Bellamy, the former ranch was now a fully functioning Pony Express stop. Having lost their cattle to drought, disease, and the bank, the large ranch holdings had been cut down to the few acres surrounding the buildings. Thankfully Russell, Majors, and Waddell's proposition came before they had to sell and move out.
Elson Ross approached the group, his dark haired daughter Bellamy trailing behind. Together they assessed their new riders. All of them were on the upper end of the 18 year old age limit that the ad had used. Ranging in size from over six foot to average height, they were about as varied as a group could get.
"Welcome to Devil's Gate Pony Express station. I'm Elson Ross, your station master."
Bellamy stepped forward to introduce herself, earning a glance from a couple of the boys, a hard eyed one in particular that stood on the end.
"What's your name son?", Elson asked queitly, stepping in front of the first rider in line, a tall dark haired boy with a kind face.
"Beck Donovan, sir."
"Nice to meet you Beck." the station master responded to the boy, then addressed the entire line, "You can all call me Elson. Mr. Ross makes me sound way too old."
A couple of the riders chuckled at this. The next one in line was not one of them. A black, flat crowned Mexican style hat sat above brown eyes that stared out at the world full of anger and hardness met Elson's then darted away. The long duster that covered most of their body shifted a little as they stood up straighter, revealing a silver plated gun belt and an ivory handled pistol that looked well used.
