CHAPTER VII

THE RESCUE


"Whoa there, old boy! Steady!" Dave spoke to his horse, and the animal,
that had been frightened by the sudden throwing into the air of the
handkerchief, stood still.

"I see where you are!" Dave called to the unknown and unseen one--a man,
evidently, by the tones of his voice. "I'll be with you in a minute!"

"Be careful of yourself," was the caution. "I had a bad fall in here, and
I don't want to see any one else get into trouble. Go a bit slow."

"Thanks, I will," Dave said "But I know this ground pretty well. Stand
still now, old fellow," he went on to his horse. "I don't want you
falling, and breaking your leg or neck."

Crow whinnied as though he understood, and Dave, slipping the reins over
the neck of the intelligent animal as a further intimation that he was to
stay where he was without wandering, climbed from the saddle, a bit
wearily it must be confessed, and started for the rock, behind which lay
the injured man, and from which point the young cattleman had observed the
white handkerchief.

"Careful now." cautioned the voice again.

"All right, don't worry about me," said Dave, easily.