"The man is dying," he muttered. "Perhaps I might save him if I could get to him now. Must I shoot that dog? I hate to do it, for the creature seems very intelligent."
At this moment the man stirred a little and seemed to realize what was happening. He lifted his head a little and saw the dismounted horseman and the threatening dog.
"Down, Boxer; down, sir!" he commanded. "Be quiet!"
His voice rose scarcely above a whisper, but the dog reluctantly obeyed, still keeping his eyes on Frank, who now stepped up at once.
"You're badly wounded, sir," he said. "Let me see if I can do anything for you."
"Give me water—for the love of Heaven, water!" was the harshly whispered imploration.
In a twinkling Frank sprang to his horse and brought back a canteen that was well filled. This he held to the lips of the wretched man, while the crouching dog watched every move with his red eyes.
That water, warm though it was, brought back a little life to the sinking man.
"God bless you!" he murmured gratefully.
The dog whined.