CHAPTER VIII

MR. BELLMORE

Dave Carson had some knowledge of rough and ready first-aid work. There

was often occasion for it on the ranch, and though fainting men were not

common sights, still, now and again, such a contingency would arise.

Cowboys often get severely hurt, and it is not always within the nerve

power of a man to hold back when a deathly faintness overcomes him.

"I've got to get help to tote you back to the ranch," Dave said, as he

sprinkled some water from his canteen in the face of the stranger.

"You've got to be looked after. Maybe the ankle's broken."

He glanced at the injured foot, but did not offer to touch it, for he knew

how sensitive it must be, when even a slight movement sent the man off in

a faint.

The water had the desired effect, or perhaps the faint was only a slight

one, for presently the man opened his eyes, looked about him in some

wonder, and murmured:

"Oh, I remember now. Was it last year I tried to fall over the cliff?" He

smiled wanly.

"No, it was only a little while ago-or at least it was only a little while

ago that I pulled you back," Dave said. "I don't know how long you had

been hanging there, though."

"It seemed ten years," was the answer given with another wan smile. "Well,

what's the next move? I hope it isn't mine, for I don't know how I can

manage it. My ankle is either broken, or badly sprained."

"I'm afraid so," Dave answered. "Now I don't know where you came from, or

where you're going, but our ranch--Bar U--is the nearest place you can get

help. I can put you on my horse--I guess I can manage that--and walk with

you, but it will take a long time. Crow won't carry double, I'm afraid.

Certainly not with the way I'd have to put you on."

"I had a horse," said the stranger. "He can't have gone very far. I left

him beside the trail while I came in here to look about. He must have

wandered off a way."

"A horse!" cried Dave, eagerly. "That's good, if I can find him. We'll not

have any trouble getting you to the ranch in that case, Mr.--er--"

Dave paused significantly, adding, after a moment's thought:

"My names is Dave--Dave Carson." He had hesitated, and then quickly

reflected that this was no time to enter into explanations about his lack

of parentage. "My father, Randolph Carson, owns Bar U ranch."

"Yes, I have heard of him," the man said. "In fact I was going to call on

him within a few days in regard to a certain matter. I am afraid I can't

reach my card case, but my name is Bellmore--Benjamin Bellmore. I'm from

Chicago, but I'm out here representing the Rolling Valley Water Company."

"Never heard of them," Dave said. "They don't deal in cattle; do they?"

"No, they hope to deal in water; that is later on. But I'll go into

details after a bit."

"Pardon me, Mr. Bellmore!" burst out Dave. "Here I am keeping you talking,

when I ought to be looking for your animal, and helping you to our ranch.

I don't know what's got into me. But I just had some trouble with a bunch

of our cattle, and I guess I'm thinking of that yet.

"I was on my way to the ranch to get help, when I took this short cut and

heard you call. I'll go and see if I can find your horse. If I can't we'll

use mine, and I can walk. It won't be the first time, though we

cowpunchers are more used to a saddle than we are to our own legs."

He gave Mr. Bellmore another drink from the canteen, and then seeing that

the man was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, went back

to the trail to look for the missing horse. Dave saw his own steed

contentedly munching some of the scanty herbage, &and, speaking to him,

passed on.

Reaching a point where he could look down into the valley below, Dave

peered long and earnestly for a sight of a riderless horse. To his delight

he saw the animal almost at once.

"Well, you didn't run far," he murmured, "and if you don't get a tantrum,

and gallop off when I come up, I'll soon have you."

Going back to where he had left Mr. Bellmore, Dave reported:

"Your horse is down in the valley. I'll jump on mine and try to catch him

for you. If I can, we'll not have any trouble, and I'll soon have you at

our ranch."

"Thanks," murmured the representative of the water company. "His name is

Kurd," he added. "My horse's, I mean," he explained, with a smile. "He

generally comes when I call him, but here are some lumps of sugar I give

him. He'll be sure to come if you hold these out to him."

Dave took the sweets, which Mr. Bellmore extracted from his pocket, and

hurried back to where he had left Crow. A moment later Dave was moving off

down the trail toward the valley.

"Careful, old boy," he cautioned his steed, for the going was anything but

good. "It won't do for you to slip and stumble now."

But Crow had no intention of doing anything of the sort, and a little

later Dave was galloping rapidly--across the grassy plain toward the lone

horse.

"I hope he doesn't bolt and give me a chase," reflected the young cowboy.

"I haven't much time," and he looked at the declining sun, and thought of

Pocus Pete on guard at the corral, waiting for help to mend the broken

fence.

"It's all Len's fault, too--the mean skunk!" said Dave. "If it hadn't been

for him the cattle wouldn't have gotten loose. Though I suppose if they

hadn't I wouldn't have ridden home this way, and I wouldn't have

discovered that man. Maybe it'll be a good thing, in the end."

Just how "good" this chance was to prove to Dave, the young cowboy little

dreamed.

"Here Kurd! Kurd!" he called, as he approached the horse. Dave wondered

how Mr. Bellmore had hit on that odd name. "Here, Kurd!" the youth called.

The horse, a beautiful and intelligent beast, raised his head, and looked

at Dave approaching on Crow.

"Here you are, old boy. Kurd!" called the young ranchman again.

The other pony, who had been cropping the grass, moved off a short

distance.

"That won't do!" Dave murmured. "If he once starts he'll keep going. Looks

as if he had speed, too, but I think you can beat him, Crow, old boy," and

he patted the neck of his faithful beast.

Kurd continued to amble slowly away. Then Dave thought of the sugar. He

took the lumps out of his pocket and held them in the palm of his hand, at

the same time bringing Crow to a stop.

Kurd raised his head, whinnied once or twice, stretched out his velvet

muzzle, as though to smell what Dave held out, and then came slowly toward

the youth.

"That's more like it," Dave murmured. "Now if you don't take a sudden

notion, and bolt off just as I reach for your reins, I'll be all right.

Steady boy! Come on Kurd!"

The strange horse seemed to have cast his suspicions to the wind, and came

fearlessly. A moment later he and Crow were sniffing at each other, and

then Kurd took the sugar from Dave's palm. Then the lad grasped the reins,

and, turning about, riding his own horse and leading Kurd, made for the

place where he had left Mr. Bellmore.

"Good luck!" Dave called as he came in sight of the prostrate man. "I've

got your horse, and now we'll soon be at the ranch."

"Fine! Now I'm going to ask you to do something else for me. This foot of

mine is paining worse every minute, but I think if I could get my boot

off, to allow room for that swelling to expand, it would ease me."

"I'll try," Dave said.

However, it was found impossible to pull off the footgear without so

yanking on the injured foot that Mr. Bellmore nearly fainted again.

"Guess I'll have to cut it," Dave said, dubiously.

"Do then."

"It's a pity to spoil a good boot."

"Well, the chances are I won't be able to wear one again for a few weeks,

and I simply can't stand this pain."

"Here goes," Dave said. With his keen knife he slit the leather. A sigh of

relief came from the man.

"That's better-a whole lot better," he murmured.

It was no easy matter to get him astride his horse, but Dave finally

managed it, and wrapped the swollen ankle in his own coat to prevent its

striking against the side of Kurd as they rode off.

"How did you come to fall?" asked Dave, as he got into his own saddle,

ready for the trip to the ranch.

"I'll explain later. I can't talk very well now. But I was prospecting

around, looking at the rock formation, when I slipped. I thought it was

all up with me, but my foot caught, and I was held suspended over the

gully."

"I see," Dave replied. "Well, we'll doctor you up."

Carefully they made their way out of the rocky woodland, and started

across the plain, toward Bar U ranch. As Dave took the lead, making as

much speed as was possible under the circumstances, he saw, some distance

in advance, a solitary horseman.

Again something in the peculiar saddle position of the rider attracted his

attention.

"There's Len Molick again!" he exclaimed aloud. "I suppose he's hanging

around to see how his trick worked!"

"Len Molick!" exclaimed Mr. Bellmore. "Why I want to see him. I have been

looking for him!"

Cowboy Dave; Or, The Round-up at Rolling River · 第 8 / 25 章