But the shock was only momentarily successful. Thrown out of his stride, and away from the object of his attack, Go Some swerved to one side for an instant. But as he came on again, with no thought of giving up his plan, Gimp was ready for him.
Drawing his revolver, the cowboy fired directly at the furious animal. The bullet, as the marksman intended, creased a red line along the beast’s neck, making a smarting, stinging wound.
“Maybe that’ll cure you!” muttered the cowboy as he saw the mad horse turn and gallop away across the rolling plain. Then Gimp reined Blaze in, and slipped out of the saddle. He knelt beside Jerry, as Bob and Ned jumped from their mounts.
“Is he—is he——” faltered Chunky.
“Not by a long shot!” exclaimed Gimp. “There’s a lot of fight left in him yet! He struck on his head and he’s insensible, but there don’t nothin’ seem to be busted,” he added, feeling all over Jerry who lay with closed eyes.
“How’re we going to get him home?” asked Ned, when his chum had not aroused after they had wet his face with water and had tried to force some between his lips.
“Guess one of you’ll have to ride back for the ambulance—I mean a wagon,” Gimp answered.
“Our auto would be best,” suggested Ned. “I’ll go get it and run it back here.”
Ned made good time back to the ranch, considering the half-exhausted state of his pony, and he made better time back with the automobile. Jerry was just opening his eyes when Ned returned, but he went off in another spell of faintness as they lifted him up on the pile of blankets that had been slipped in by the anxious foreman.
As the automobile, carefully and slowly driven by Ned, while Bob and Gimp rode beside it, came within view of the Square Z buildings they saw a horseman riding toward them.