shoulder.

"Where--where are we?" he asked, in a dazed way. "Did we fall?"

He spoke with an accent that at once told Blake and Joe his
nationality--Spanish, either from Mexico or South America.

"We're all right," put in Hank. "These young fellows saved us from
going over into the gulch. It was a narrow squeak, though."

"Ah!" The man uttered the exclamation, with a long sigh of
satisfaction and relief. Then he put his hand to his forehead, and
brought it away with a little blood on it.

"It is nothing. It is a mere scratch and does not distress me in
the least," he went on, speaking very correct English, in his
curiously accented voice. He appeared to hesitate a little to pick
out the words and expressions he wanted, and, often, in such
cases, the wrong words, though correct enough in themselves, were
selected.

"I am at ease--all right, that is to say," he went on, with a
rather pale smile. "And so these young men saved us--saved our
lives? Is that what you mean, señor--I should say, sir?" and he
quickly corrected his slip.

"I should say they did!" exclaimed Hank with an air of
satisfaction. "Old Rex took matters into his own hands, or, rather
legs, and we were just about headed for kingdom come when these
fellows pulled us back from the brink. As for Rex himself, I guess