Part 10 (2/2)

”Come in here,” I sez, cross. ”This man is liable to kill himself, an'

you know more about nerves 'n I do.”

Horace crawled out from behind a big rock, came in, s.h.i.+verin' with the cold; an' we untied Tank from the log. He had managed to get his feet loose; but his hands had been tied behind him an' when they got cold, he couldn't make a go of it. ”Well,” sez I, as soon as Tank was free, ”what are you goin' to do now?”

”I move we get up the hosses, an' start at once,” sez Tank. ”I don't trust myself any longer, an' we can ride faster at night. My one hope, is to get to an Injun doctor, or else get so tired out that I can fall into a dreamless sleep.”

”Why don't you ride alone?” demanded Horace with a sudden burst of intelligence. ”Why don't you ride alone; an' then you could ride as fast as you wanted to, an' if you found the Injuns out o' humor, you could come back an' let us know.”

This set us back for a minute: we had been playin' Horace for bein'

utterly thought-loose; but he had figured out the best plan the' was, an' his eyes were bright an' eager.

”Take the hoss that's fastened on the rope here,” Horace went on; ”an'

we can take the manacled hosses in the mornin' and foller ya. Yes, that's the best plan.”

You see the fact was, we were only twenty or twenty-five miles from the ranch house. We had been circlin' an' zig-zaggin' through the hills, an' at night we hung up Horace's pony on a picket an' put hobbles on the balance. Bein' fooled on direction wasn't any sign of Horace bein' a complete lunkhead; I've known a heap o' wise ones get balled up in the mountains.

Tank stood puzzlin' over it with his free eye trottin' about in a circle; but he couldn't think any way out of it. ”All right,” sez he, ”if you two can get along without me, why, I'll risk my life by bein'

a scout.”

”Nonsense,” sez Horace; ”the Injuns haven't riz for years, an' they're not likely to again.”

Tank only winked his lookin' eye, an' proceeded to fling the saddle on the picketed hoss. Horace was smilin' purty contented with himself, until I sez: ”Which hoss are you goin' to ride to-morrow, Mr.

Bradford?”

Then his face went blank as he recalled the blow-up we'd had that mornin' gettin' the pack ponies contented with their loads. ”By Jove, I can't ride any of them!” he exclaims. ”It would kill me to have a hoss buck with me. I'm so sore now I can hardly move.”

”You don't look as nervous as you did, though,” I sez to him for comfort.

He didn't pay me no heed. ”Here, Williams,” he calls, ”you can't take that hoss. He's the only one I can ride, and you'll have to catch another.”

”You ort have thought o' that before,” sez Tank, goin' on with his arrangements, but movin' slow.

”Well, you two straighten it out among yourselves,” sez I. ”I'm goin'

back to bed. No wonder you're nervous. It would make a saw-horse nervous to jibe around the way you two do.”

I went off grumblin', an' I went to sleep before they settled it; but Tank stretched it out as much as he could, an' Horace didn't oversleep any that night. Next mornin' when I looked out, I saw him tied up with his back again' a tree, an' Tank's head in his lap. He was swathed in his slicker an' saddle-blanket to keep warm, an' was sound asleep. He looked purty well hammered out, but hanged if he didn't look a lot more worth while 'n he did when he started to take my treatment.

It seemed a shame to do it, as it was just gettin' into the gray; but I woke him up, an' asked him in a whisper what he was doin'. He sat an' blinked at me for a full minute before he remembered what or where he was, an' then he told me that he finally induced Tank to try havin'

his head rubbed again, by lettin' Tank truss him up so he couldn't keel over on him. ”Gee, but I'm cold an' stiff,” he sez in a husky, raspin' voice. ”I don't see how it can be so hot daytimes, an' so cold nights.”

”This'll do you a world of good, Mr. Bradford,” sez I. ”You see, you swell up with the heat daytimes, an' crimp down with the cold nights; an' this will goad on your circulation, fry the lard out o' ya, an'

give your nerves a chance to get toned up.” I quoted from the patent medicine almanac occasional, just so he wouldn't forget he was takin'

treatment.

”I can't possibly ride, to-day,” he sez, shakin' his head. ”Honest, I'm in agony.”

”That's just 'cause you're stiff,” sez I, kindly. ”That'll all wear off when the sun softens up your joint-oil. Why, man, you'll look back on this trip as one o' the brightest spots in your whole life.”

<script>