"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.