Blue Bonnet's Ranch Party - Part 10
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Part 10

The road ran for a short distance beside the little river with the big name--San Franciscito--which had so amused Alec. It was there that Sarah did something unprecedented. For several miles she had been envying Blue Bonnet her easy manner of handling the reins and the light touch that sent the mustangs right or left as she willed. It was a beautiful accomplishment.

"Blue Bonnet," she asked suddenly, "may I drive for a little while?"

Blue Bonnet looked up in speechless surprise; Sarah was certainly "coming on." "Surely you may," she said cordially, straightway handing over the reins. "Hold them firmly--these colts are apt to run under a loose rein."

Sarah felt a curious sense of power as she grasped the leather in her unpracticed hands. Conscientious to a degree, she did as she was bid and held the mustangs firmly. In her anxiety to do the thing properly, she overdid it, and the next moment the horses were tossing their heads angrily and backing with all their might. The bank of the stream just here was very high and steep, though just beyond was a ford where the road branched. The light buckboard offered no resistance to the spirited mustangs, and, in a second, before Blue Bonnet could grasp the reins, one hind wheel had slipped an inch or two over the ledge.

For a second or two the girls were in grave danger. Blue Bonnet felt a swift overpowering fear; the half-broken colts were as apt to plunge backward as to advance if they felt the whip, and that meant a plunge down the steep bank. She looked about her helplessly. Sarah, with a faint shriek, shut her eyes and prepared for the catastrophe.

At that moment a horseman came suddenly up the bank at the ford, emerging as if from out the earth. At a glance he took in the situation, was off his horse, caught the near colt by the bit and brought both frightened animals to a standstill with the wheel a safe margin from the bank. Then without waiting to hear the faintly murmured thanks of the terrified girls, their rescuer turned at once to his own horse, which had seized the moment to make a break for freedom. The boy--for he was hardly more--had thrown the lines over the animal's head and now, with another of his incredibly swift movements, he caught them and in a second more had jerked the horse about. Then in a flash he was once more in the saddle. Blue Bonnet had just managed to catch her breath,--when it was taken away again. For before the boy had put his right foot in the stirrup, he was out of the saddle once more, lying all of a heap in the gra.s.s, while his horse with a wicked kick-up of his heels, vanished around a turn in the road.

Not daring to trust the reins out of her hands a second time, Blue Bonnet almost pushed Sarah from her seat. Fearfully the girl approached and bent over the fallen hero; to her relief she saw that his eyes were open. He blinked queerly for a moment, then gave a gaspy little laugh.

"I'm all right. Don't worry. It's knocked the breath out of me--that's all," he managed to say at last; and then, after another pause, he scrambled up to a sitting posture.

"I'm so sorry," said Sarah, finding her voice. "I hope you're not seriously hurt."

"I'm--quite whole!" he a.s.sured her, and stopped with a wince of pain.

"It's my wrist, I reckon--broken or sprained." He examined the injured member closely and after a vain attempt to lift it said briefly: "Broken. Isn't that the limit?"

"Oh, dear," exclaimed Sarah, all sympathy. "What shall we do?" She approached Blue Bonnet with a very serious face. "We shall have to get a doctor to set his arm right away," she said in a low tone. "You know the bones go crooked if they're not set soon."

"If he can get up into the buckboard we can take him to the doctor, that'll be quicker," replied Blue Bonnet.

Sarah went back to the boy. He still sat, rather dazed and white, looking disgustedly at his injured arm. "Say," she began hesitatingly; she wished she knew his name--"say" was so plebeian; "--are you too badly hurt to get into the buckboard?"

"No, indeed," he replied cheerfully. "Be--with you--in a minute. But sorry--to trouble you."

"It's no trouble," said Sarah. "We're terribly sorry about your arm."

"Nothing much,--only a bother," he maintained stoutly, setting his teeth as he said it and scrambling to his feet. Then he swayed and would have fallen if Sarah had not caught him. He clung to her for a moment, fighting the dizziness with all the pride of his seventeen years, then giving in sheepishly, let her lead him to the buckboard.

Once there he leaned weakly against the wheel, while the two girls, anxious and frightened, yet too considerate of his feelings to show their concern, watched him in speechless sympathy. At last he straightened up and gave a short, embarra.s.sed laugh.

"Reckon I've got a funny-bone in my head," he said impatiently. Then steadying himself with his right hand he climbed slowly into the back seat of the buckboard.

"We'd better go to Jonah at once, don't you think--for the doctor?"

Blue Bonnet asked him.

"Is it far?" he asked. Blue Bonnet looked her surprise and he added: "I don't know these parts. I'm camping up at the Big Spring and was just riding down this way looking for a place they call Kooch's."

"Why, we've just come from there," exclaimed Blue Bonnet.

"Then it is near?" he asked. "I'd begun to think I must have taken the wrong road."

"Just a mile or two back," explained Blue Bonnet.

"Then if you will kindly take me there, I'll not trouble you any further," the youth said eagerly.

"But you must have your arm set right away," protested Sarah.

"Well, if the man I was looking for is at Kooch's, maybe he can set it," he replied, adding, "He's a 'medic' from Chicago--a friend of a cousin of mine. Left college on account of lung trouble, and I heard he was camping on Kooch's ground somewhere."

"Maybe it was his tent we saw back there a ways," said Sarah. "That's quite near."

Blue Bonnet turned the horses and driving very slowly, so as not to hurt the boy's injured arm, went back over the road they had just traversed. It was not long before they came in sight of the tent she and Sarah had noticed; a rather high fence prevented her approaching it very closely, and she stopped just opposite the camp.

"I reckon you'll have to go and see if the man's there, Sarah," said Blue Bonnet.

Sarah looked fearfully at the high fence. "I just know I can't get over."

Blue Bonnet gave her a withering glance. "You--Woodfordite!" was the worst epithet she dared trust herself to before a stranger. "Then you'll have to hold the horses. There's no river to spill into here--and you don't have to pull them over backwards."

"There's no need, really," the young fellow interrupted. "I can bring Abbott if he's here." He raised his right hand, put the tips of two fingers to his lips and blew. The shrillest, most penetrating whistle the girls had ever heard pierced the air, causing the colts to lunge forward in a way that might have precipitated another catastrophe, had not Blue Bonnet's little steel wrist brought them up sharply.

At the summons a tall lanky figure appeared from within the tent and stood peering under his hand at the occupants of the buckboard. The youth whistled again, this time only with his lips,--a bird-like call.

"That's his frat whistle. Ought to bring him."

And bring him it did. The lanky figure deserted the tent and with an eager stride crossed the meadow and came up to the fence. After one scrutinizing glance at the girls his eye fell on the boy and he grinned broadly.

"Hullo, Knight!--is it really you? Glad to see you, old chap!"

"h.e.l.lo, Doc. How am I going to get over this hospitable fence of yours?" returned the boy, with an abruptness born of an aching wrist.

"My nag threw me and I've broken my left arm. Know anybody that can set it?" He winked impudently at the fledgling doctor.

The latter beamed with professional delight. "Just my line, dear boy.

I wish it had been your leg, now,--I do those beautifully!"

"Or my neck--I don't doubt it. But this is quite enough, thank you,"

retorted the boy. He was white with pain and yet could joke!--it was the sort of pluck Blue Bonnet admired.

"If your cousin will drive down to the gate,--" the young man suggested.

The boy looked a trifle embarra.s.sed. "This isn't my cousin," he replied. "These gir--er--young ladies picked me up after my spill and--"

"I'm Elizabeth Ashe," Blue Bonnet supplied, coloring slightly.

"Of the Blue Bonnet ranch?" asked the medico, and at her affirmative nod he added, "I've met Mr. Ashe."

"This is Doctor Abbott," said the boy, striving to make the introduction easily, though one could see that such social amenities were not a matter of habit with him.

"I can't claim that t.i.tle yet," the "doctor" protested. "My friends bestowed it when I was a freshman. I hope to earn it yet. Now, Knight,--about that arm. If Miss Ashe will drive on--there's a gate a hundred yards down the road. It isn't big enough to drive through, but I'll meet you there. I've some bandages in my tent. Be with you in a minute."

He appeared at the little gate bearing a most professional looking leather case and various packages that emitted queer odors. His enjoyment of the operation in store was plain.

"Hadn't I better go over to the tent with you?" asked the patient. To have an arm set with two strange girls looking on was evidently not to his taste.

"Too far for you to walk if you feel as shaky as you look," said Doctor Abbott, his keen eyes taking in young Knight's pale face and twitching lips. "And I may need a.s.sistance." He sprang lightly into the seat beside the patient and made a rapid examination. The girls resolutely kept their eyes away, but they could hear the boy's quick breathing. He made no other sound.

"A sprain, my boy," was the verdict which the girls heard with vast relief.