It was a hot dusty day at the Pony Express station. There were no packages coming and the riders were getting antsy. Jesse, the youngest rider at age 16, was re-shoeing his pony, and Kale, Jesse’s older brother, was sitting on the porch watching the Texas dust blow. Jesse stood up, patted the pony and said, “Well Sarah, we are ready to go now.” He then walked to the water barrel and drank a large ladleful, liquid rolling down his shirt. Kale looked at the horizon and saw two dark silhouette’s approaching. “Hey Jesse!” Kale hollered, “I think a job’s a- comin’.” Jesse looked around the corner of the station to see the figures growing by the second. He quickly ate a biscuit, then stood on the porch watching as the men arrived. The men were obviously military, both wearing navy blue uniforms, their horses were stark black with manes and tales cut short. “What can we do for you’s today?” Kale asked. “We need you to deliver a package to Baton Rouge, Louisiana,” one of the men said.
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