"By all means," he said, in a deep, familiar voice.
It was Silver.
Joses did not mind that. He was not at all above taking a hand from an enemy in an emergency.
And young Silver seemed surprisingly kind. Big men usually were.
The young man got off his pony, came to the edge of the cliff, and gave the perspiring tout his hand. With a heave and a lurch Joses scrambled to the top.
How strong the fellow was! No horse would ever get away with him.
"Good of you," panted the fat man, rising to his feet.
"Not at all," replied Silver. "It was less trouble to pull you up than to come down to you."
There was a note in his quiet voice Joses did not like.
"What you mean?" he asked.