CHAPTER VIII

MR. BELLMORE


Dave Carson had some knowledge of rough and ready first-aid work. There
was often occasion for it on the ranch, and though fainting men were not
common sights, still, now and again, such a contingency would arise.
Cowboys often get severely hurt, and it is not always within the nerve
power of a man to hold back when a deathly faintness overcomes him.

"I've got to get help to tote you back to the ranch," Dave said, as he
sprinkled some water from his canteen in the face of the stranger.

"You've got to be looked after. Maybe the ankle's broken."

He glanced at the injured foot, but did not offer to touch it, for he knew
how sensitive it must be, when even a slight movement sent the man off in
a faint.

The water had the desired effect, or perhaps the faint was only a slight
one, for presently the man opened his eyes, looked about him in some
wonder, and murmured:

"Oh, I remember now. Was it last year I tried to fall over the cliff?" He
smiled wanly.

"No, it was only a little while ago-or at least it was only a little while