e latter place. But on
arriving, his successor, a man named Johnson Richardson, was unable or
indisposed to go on with the mail[30]. It happened that Division
Superintendent W. C. Marley was at Bucklands when Haslam arrived, and,
since Richardson would not go on duty, Marley offered "Pony Bob" fifty
dollars bonus if he would take up the route. Haslam promptly accepted
the proposal, and within ten minutes was off, armed with a revolver and
carbine, on his new journey. He at first had a lonesome ride of
thirty-five miles to the Sink of the Carson. Reaching the place without
mishap, he changed mounts and hurried on for thirty-seven miles over the
alkali wastes and through the sand until he came to Cold Springs. Here
he again changed horses and once more dashed on, this time for thirty
miles without stopping, till Smith's Creek was reached where he was
relieved by J. G. Kelley. "Bob" had thus ridden one hundred and
eighty-five miles without stopping except to change mounts. At Smith's
Creek he slept nine hours and then started back with the return mail. On
reaching Cold Springs once more, he found himself in the midst of
tragedy. The Indians had been there. The horses had been stolen. All was
in ruins. Nearby lay the corpse of the faithful station-keeper. Small
cheer for a tired horse and rider! Haslam watered his steed and pounded
ahead without rest or refreshment. Before he had covered half the
distance to the next station, darkness was falling. The journey was
enshrouded with danger. On every side were huge clumps of sage-bush
which would offer excellent chances for savages to lie in ambush. The
howling of wolves added to the dolefulness of the trip. And haunting him
continuously was the thought of the ruined little station and the
stiffened corpse behind him. But pony riders were men of courage and
nerve, and Bob was no exception. He arrived at Sand Springs safely; but
here there was to be no rest nor delay. After reporting the outrage he
had just seen, he advised the station man of his danger, and, after
changing horses, induced the latter to accompany him on to the Sink of
the Carson, which move doubtless saved the latter's life. Reaching the
Carson, they found a badly frightened lot of men who had been attacked
by the Indians only a few hours previously. A party of fifteen with
plenty of arms and ammunition had gathered in the adobe station, which
was large enough also to accommodate as, many horses. Nearby was a cool