"Sure!" was the answer, given with a bland grin. "He clum' up smilin'."
"Well, I hope he does," was the comment.
By this time it could be seen that Dave was at least alive. Out of the haze of dust he limped, But the steer lay prone.
Mr. Carson jumped from his horse, and an instant later had the young cowboy in his arms.
"Dave! Dave!" he cried. "My boy! My boy! Tell me you're not hurt!"
As the other cowboys rode up one of them gave a look at the prostrate steer.
"He's done for," he commented.
It needed but a look at the curiously and grotesquely twisted neck of the animal to tell that it was broken.
"Dave, are you hurt?" gasped the ranchman.
"Well, I've felt better," Dave answered, slowly, making a wry face as he limped to one, side. He leaned heavily on the arm of Mr. Carson.