Still cursing, Laguerre levered up the body of the dead pony with the barrel of his rifle, and Loudon wriggled free. He endeavoured to stand on his feet, but sat down abruptly. "What's de matter?" inquired Laguerre. "Bullet hit you, too?" "No," replied Loudon, gingerly feeling his right ankle, "my foot feels funny." "Mabbeso de leg broke," suggested Laguerre. "Mabbeso dat feller she try anudder shot. Better you be behin' de log-house." He picked up his rifle, helped Loudon to stand erect, and passed an arm around his waist. So, hopping on one foot, Loudon reached the shelter of the shack wall. Laguerre eased him to the ground and skipped nimbly down past the corral. "Mabbeso I geet dat feller," he called over his shoulder. "Be back soon." Laguerre returned in five minutes. "Dat feller she geet clean away," he said, disconsolately. "Nevair touch heem. By gar! Eef I not have run so hard, I shoot better. Geet heem shore den." "Pull my boot off, will yuh, Telescope?" requested Loudon, extending his leg. Laguerre pulled. Loudon gritted his teeth. The pain was sharp, nauseating. "It's no good," said Loudon, thickly. "Got to cut the boot off." Laguerre whipped out his knife and slit the leather from instep to top. Gently he removed the boot. Loudon peeled off the sock. The ankle was badly swollen. "Wiggle de toe," commanded Laguerre. Loudon wriggled his toes and was able to move his ankle slightly, not without a deal of pain, however. He noted with thankfulness that the pain was continuous, and not stabbing as it is when a bone is involved. "Bone's all right," he observed, cheerfully. "Only a sprain, I guess." "Dat ees good," said Laguerre. "I geet de odder hoss." He strode to the dead horse and stripped off saddle and bridle. "Say," said Loudon, "I can do that while yo're goin' for the hoss. We'll have to leave 'em here, anyway." "No, not dees treep, my frien'," Laguerre said, carrying saddle and bridle toward the corral. "Dat feller she leave Dan Smeet's hoss on de odder side de corral. Hoss she pretty tire', but she carry you all right." On his hands and knees Loudon crawled to the corral and peered between the bars. The corral was a large one. Till recently the grass had grown thickly within it. But that grass had been nibbled to the roots, and the marks of shod hoofs were everywhere. From a spring near the shack a small stream ran through one corner of the corral. "Slick," said Loudon. "Couldn't have been better, could it?" "No eet could not," agreed Laguerre. "She feex up dees ole corral fine. Dat Ranger hoss she been here mabbeso four day. She have de grass. She have de watair. She all ready fresh w'en dat feller she come. Un how can we follow wit' de tire' pony? Oh, she have eet figure all out. For w'y? Can you tell me dat, Tom?" "I dunno. It shore is too many for me."