Mr. Oliver, looking unusually grave, nodded to the boys. "We have just met Jake," he said. "He tells me Tillicum's back a little way up the trail with a broken leg." "I guess he's done," murmured Jake, adding significantly, "I wouldn't have left him like that if I'd had a gun." "Go on with the steers," said Mr. Oliver. "We'll turn back." The boys accompanied him and Mr. Barclay, and leaving the trail by and by where the bush was thinner they stopped before a pitiable sight. It was Tillicum who stood awkwardly before them, his head lowered and one leg that seemed distorted out of its usual shape hanging limp. Caked mire was spattered about the poor animal, its coat was foul, and every line of its body seemed expressive of pain and exhaustion. As it raised its drooping head and looked at them pitifully, Frank felt a thrill of hot anger against the outlaws who were responsible for its condition. Mr. Oliver stepped up to the horse and gently felt of its injured limb, after which he turned abruptly toward Mr. Barclay and Frank noticed that his face was set. "There's only one thing to be done," he said. "Have you a pistol?" "Haven't _you_?" his companion asked with a slight trace of astonishment in his tone. "If I'd had one would I have wanted to borrow yours?" retorted Mr. Oliver. "Well," said Mr. Barclay, "it's seldom I carry one, but in this case it seemed advisable." He put his hand into his pocket. "Here you are. It's a big caliber." Mr. Oliver took the weapon and held it behind him, and turning back toward the horse, gently stroked its head. Then there was a flash and detonation, and the beast dropped like a stone. After a moment the rancher turned around with a very curious look in his eyes, with the smoking weapon clenched hard in his hand. "I've had that faithful animal six years," he said in a harsh voice. "We'll get away." They walked on in silence for a while, and then Mr. Barclay spoke. "The breaking of its leg was probably an accident," he suggested. "Yes," said Mr. Oliver. "It's possible he broke it after they turned him loose, but that doesn't seem to affect the case." He paused and looked around at his companion. "You understand that I'm with you right through this thing." Nothing more was said until they approached the ranch, when Mr. Oliver turned to the boys. "I'll take the fish," he said. "You can go on with whatever you were doing." They moved away toward the drain, and when they reached it Harry stood still a moment or two. "It's a long while since I've seen dad look half so mad," he said. "When he sets his face that way it's sure to mean trouble. Anyway, when I saw Tillicum I felt kind of boiling over--as well as sorry." "Did you notice what Mr. Barclay said about the pistol?" Frank asked.