Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-06-21
RUNNING FOR Big STAKES.

How RusselEs Pony Express Made Fast Tim
and Won a Wager.
Iwenty-n1ne years ago st. Joseph, Mo-,
was the western terminus of the railway
systems of the country. Beyond st. Jo-
seph the stage-cOach, 0x-team, and kin
dred methods of transportation were re-
sorted to for the purpose Of maintaining
communication with the Pacific slope.
This coast was by that time pretty we'll
settled, and businessmen began to wish
for rapid overland mail service.
In the winter of 1860 Wall street was at
work In Washington endeavoring to get a
subsidy of $10,O00,OO0 for carrying the
mails overland one year between New
York and San Francisco.
William e. Russsll, backed up by Sec,
Rotary of war Floyd, looked upon the
scheme as very extravaganza PROPOSE
ton, and said that he could put on mail
line from San Francisco to ST. Joseph
that would cover the distance, $50 miles
in ten days. So confident was he that
he professed himself willing to wager
100000 on the proposition.
The schemers for the big mail contract
felt bound to meet the bluff and took up
the wager, the 9Th day of April, 1860
being fixed as the first day for starting.
A. B. Miller, Russell's partner, was posi-
tive that pony express could be estab-
lished which would enable Russell to win
his prOdigious wager. There was no
time to be lost and Miller set about his
work with energy. He purchased 300 of
the feetest horses he could procure, and
secured the services of 125 men. Eighty
of these men were selected for post-riders,
and of course were es pecially chosen for
their light weight-the hgh6er the man
the better for the horse, as some parts of
The route had to be covered at the rate of
twenty five miles an hour. In establish
ing the relays the distance in each in
stance was determined by the character
Of the country. AS a rule the horses
were stationed from ten to twenty miles
apart, and each rider had to make sixty
miles. Two minutes were allowed for
changing the animals and shifting the
mails. If the stage-stations were not at
proper Intervals tent was put up suffi-
cient to accommodate one man and two
horses.
By the day set for the starting every
thing was in readiness, and before the
smoke cleared away FROM the muzzle of
the signal-gun on the stea ner Sacramen
to at the hour of noon, April s, 1860
Billy Baker, mounted on Border Rufian
MIller's famous saddle-horse, dashed
away toward the Sierras, covering his
twenty miles IN forty nine minutes.
Deep snow lay in the mountain passes,
and to Salt Lake valley slow time was
made, SO that from the valley on it was
necessary to make extra fast speed to
win the huge wager.
All went well until the crossing at
Julesburg was reached. To his dismay
the courier found the Platte river high
up its hanks and strong current run
ming. Fearlessly horse and rider plunged
into the turbid stream, but only the man
reached the opposite bank. His gallant
steed mired in the quicksands and was
drowned. The coulter saved his precious
mail pouch, and had to walk ten miles to
the next relay station.
Johnny Fry was one of the famous
men Of his day on the border. Tough
and why, he was as light as cat, and as
a rider he never knew in equal. To him
fell the duty of riding the last sixty miles
of the long race. He had six thorough
bred horses to do it with.
When the courier arrived at the sixty
mile post out Of ST. Joseph he was one
hour behind time. Johnny had to make
up that lost hour or the wager was lost.
Miller considered all this when he select
ed Johnny Fry to make the final dash.
As the hour drew near for Fry's ar
rival at st. Joseph thousands of people
lined the river bank, gazing with feverish
expectancy in the direction of the woods,
from which the horse and rider should
emerge into the open country one mile
from the finish.
Seven minutes more and the wager
would be lost when suddenly a bright
eyed youngster caught sight of the
anxiously looked for courier, and the yell
that went up from the crowd reached the
ears of the rider a mile away.
Horse and rider fairly flew on the
wings of the wind. Feathery fecks of
foam streaked the painting TANKS of the
noble steed as she, with wide-distended
and blood-red nostrils, bore the courier
to his journeys end, covering the last
mile in one minute and fifty seconds.
The little mare Sylph had won the wager,
and there we're five minutes and a frac-
ton to spare.