"We won't," spoke up Red Fox Scout Ward, flatly.
"We'll go with you to the ranch. We'll see this thing through. The railroad can wait."
"Well," said the cow-puncher, "you can't miss it. So long, and good luck."
"So long," we answered. He rode on, and we looked at the major.
"I suppose we ought to get you there as quick as we can," said Fitz, slowly. "Do you want to ride, or try walking again, or shall we carry you?"
"I'm better now," declared our plucky corporal. He stood up. "I'll walk, I guess. It isn't far."
So we set out, cautiously. No, it wasn't far—but it seemed mighty far. The major would walk a couple of hundred yards, and then he must rest. The pain doubled him right over. We took some of the stuff off Sally, and lifted him on top, but he couldn't stand that, either, very long. We tried a chair of our hands, but that didn't suit.
"I'll skip ahead and see if I can bring back a wagon, from the ranch," volunteered Red Fox Scout Van Sant; and away he ran. "You wait," he called back, over his shoulder.
We waited, and kept a cold pack on the major.
In about an hour and a half Van came panting back.