But his eyes rested only on a dog, a dapper fox-terrier, whose furtive curiosity changed instantly to alarm, as it retreated some distance, and barked excitedly. Then Power saw the animal's master, a stranger, or, at any rate, a newcomer, in the district, a man of about his own age, who rode a compactly-built pony with the careless ease of good horsemanship, and was dressed _de rigueur_, except for the broad-brimmed hat demanded by the Colorado sun. Evidently the horseman was not surprised at finding someone lying in the Gulch. "Hullo!" he cried. "Had a spill?" Power tried to speak; but the dust and grit in his throat rendered his words almost inaudible. Then the other understood that if, as he imagined, copious drafts of champagne had caused some unaccustomed head to reel, the outcome was rather more serious than a mere tumble. He urged the pony rapidly nearer, and dismounted, and a glance at Power's face dispelled his earlier notion. "What's up?" he inquired in a sympathetic tone. "Are you hurt?" Power's second effort at ordered speech was more successful. "Yes," he said. "My leg is broken." "Ah, that's too bad. Which leg?" "The left." "Were you thrown?" "No." The stranger noted the soiled condition of the injured man's clothing. He saw that a spur had been torn off, and among the drying dirt on Power's face and hands were some more ominous streaks; since a man may not squirm in agony beneath a shower of jagged granite and escape some nasty abrasions of the skin. "I see," he said gently. "You fell from up there somewhere," and he looked at the cliff, "tripped over that missing spur, I suppose. Well, what's to be done? Were you at the ranch? I didn't happen to come across you. Shall I take you there?" "No, please--to Bison--to MacGonigal's store." "Ah, yes. But it's an awkward business. You can't possibly hold yourself in the saddle. Can you stand on one leg, even for a few seconds?" "I fear not. I'm about done." "But if I carry you to the face of the rock there, and prop you against it?" "Yes, I'll do that." This friend in need pulled the reins over the pony's head, passed them through his arm, lifted Power, not without some difficulty, and brought him to a spot where the precipice rose like a wall. "There you are!" he gasped; for he was of slender proportions, and Power's weight was deceptive, owing to his perfect physical fitness. "Now I'll mount, and hold you as comfortably as I can; but I don't know how this fat geegee will behave under a double load, so I must have my hands free at first. Will you grip me tight? It may hurt like sin----" "Go right ahead!" said Power. Sure enough, when the pony found what was expected of him, he snorted, raised head and tail, and trotted a few indignant paces.