The strange horse seemed to have cast his suspicions to the wind, and came
fearlessly. A moment later he and Crow were sniffing at each other, and
then Kurd took the sugar from Dave's palm. Then the lad grasped the reins,
and, turning about, riding his own horse and leading Kurd, made for the
place where he had left Mr. Bellmore.

"Good luck!" Dave called as he came in sight of the prostrate man. "I've
got your horse, and now we'll soon be at the ranch."

"Fine! Now I'm going to ask you to do something else for me. This foot of
mine is paining worse every minute, but I think if I could get my boot
off, to allow room for that swelling to expand, it would ease me."

"I'll try," Dave said.

However, it was found impossible to pull off the footgear without so
yanking on the injured foot that Mr. Bellmore nearly fainted again.

"Guess I'll have to cut it," Dave said, dubiously.

"Do then."

"It's a pity to spoil a good boot."

"Well, the chances are I won't be able to wear one again for a few weeks,
and I simply can't stand this pain."

"Here goes," Dave said. With his keen knife he slit the leather. A sigh of
relief came from the man.