In the first place, the badly trained buckskin didn’t want to stand still. And the young man was in such pain that he really was unable to aid Helen in securing the pony.
“Here, you take Rose,” commanded the girl, at length. “She’d stand for anything. Up you come, now, sir!”
The young fellow was no weakling. But when he put one arm over the girl’s strong shoulder, and was hoisted erect, she felt him quiver all over. She knew that the pain he suffered must be intense.
“Whoa, Rose, girl!” commanded Helen. “Back around! Now, sir, up with that lame leg. It’s got to be done——”
“I know it!” he panted, and by a desperate effort managed to get the broken foot over the saddle.
“Up with you!” said Helen, and hoisted him with a man’s strength into the saddle. “Are you there?”
“Oh! Ouch! Yes,” returned the Easterner. “I’m here. No knowing how long I’ll stick, though.”
“You’d better stick. Here! Put this foot in the stirrup. Don’t suppose you can stand the other in it?”
“Oh, no! I really couldn’t,” he exclaimed.
“Well, we’ll go slow. Hi, there! Come here, you Buck!”