"Come on!" said the other man.

"I don't get down to town only once in a while," said Dave. "Never
drink other times, Sid."

He went with the man. Sid waited; it seemed to him that he had to wait
a long time.

"Round-ups are bad things for Dave," thought he. "Mother'd be sorry."

There was a great noise from the saloon on the corner. Pretty soon
Dave came out. He looked very white as he came to the place where the
boy waited. Dave leaned against Rix, and groaned.

"What's the matter?" asked Sid in alarm.

"It's my arm," said Dave, growing whiter. "There was a fight--in that
place--somehow. They knocked against me. I fell. One man fell on top
of me and my arm was sort of doubled up under me. It hurts--awful. I
don't know whether it's sprained--or broken--or--"

They had to stay in town a week before they could go back to the ranch.
When they went back Dave had his arm in a sling.

"It's a good thing the twenty-three tons of hay are in," said Sid.
"You couldn't do much with that arm."

Dave did not say anything.

Next Sunday night Sid sat in the door of the shanty on the ranch. He