When Jib first rode up, however, and told his tale, Bashful Ike Stedman had set to work to run the big touring car out of the shed in which it was kept. During the time the young folk had been at Silver Ranch from the East, the foreman had learned from Tom and Bob how to run the car. It came puffing up to the door now, headed toward the Bullhide trail.
“What in tarnashun you goin’ ter do with that contarption, Ike?” bawled Mr. Hicks. “I can’t go to Tintacker in it.”
“No, yuh can’t, Boss. But I kin go to Bullhide for the sawbones in it, and bring him back, too. We kin git as far as the Rolling River camp in the old steam engine—if she don’t break down. Then we’ll foller on arter yuh a-hawseback.”
“You won’t git no doctor to come ‘way out there,” gasped the ranch owner.
“Won’t I?” returned the foreman. “You wait and see. Ruthie says a doctor’s got to be brought for that feller, and I’m goin’ to git Doc. Burgess if I hafter rope an’ hogtie him—you hear me!”
The engine began to pop again and the automobile rolled away from the ranch-house before Mr. Hicks could enter any further objections, or any of the young folk could offer to attend Ike on his long trip. Fortunately Tom and Bob had seen to it that the machine was in excellent shape, there was plenty of gasoline in the tank, and she ran easily over the trail.
At the Crossing Ike was hailed by Sally Dickson. Sally had been about to mount her pony for a ride, but when the animal saw the automobile coming along the trail he started on the jump for the corral, leaving Miss Sally in the lurch.
“Well! if that ain’t just like you, Ike Stedman!” sputtered the red-haired schoolma’am. “Bringin’ that puffin’ abomination over this trail. Ain’t you afraid it’ll buck and throw yuh?”
“I got it gentled—it’ll eat right off yuh hand,” grinned the foreman of Silver Ranch.
“And I was going to ride in to Bullhide,” exclaimed Sally. “I won’t be able to catch the pony in a week.”