"Hold on!" cried Harry. "Wait till the stream heads him and then strike as quick as you can."
The fish's speed was checked for a moment as it entered the furious rush beneath the fall, and Frank, who could just see its dusky back amidst the foam, swung his pole. There was a splash and then a curious shock which sent a thrill through him, and the haft jerked sharply in his hands.
"Heave him out!" cried Harry. "That thing won't break."
Frank tugged with all his might and the salmon flew up over his shoulder. The next moment he had seized it and was almost reluctant to let it go when his companion clubbed it on the head.
"Two's as many as we have any use for and we'll go along," said the latter. "We haven't made much of a show at that draining lately."
Frank would have preferred to stay where he was, but he followed Harry toward the bush, and soon after they struck a cleared trail to the ranch, which was, however, not the way they had come. A little later they were somewhat astonished to see a group of figures among the trees, and hurrying forward they found Mr. Oliver and Mr. Barclay talking to Jake, who apparently had been driving home two or three steers.
Mr. Oliver, looking unusually grave, nodded to the boys. "We have just met Jake," he said. "He tells me Tillicum's back a little way up the trail with a broken leg."
"I guess he's done," murmured Jake, adding significantly, "I wouldn't have left him like that if I'd had a gun."
"Go on with the steers," said Mr. Oliver. "We'll turn back."
The boys accompanied him and Mr. Barclay, and leaving the trail by and by where the bush was thinner they stopped before a pitiable sight. It was Tillicum who stood awkwardly before them, his head lowered and one leg that seemed distorted out of its usual shape hanging limp. Caked mire was spattered about the poor animal, its coat was foul, and every line of its body seemed expressive of pain and exhaustion. As it raised its drooping head and looked at them pitifully, Frank felt a thrill of hot anger against the outlaws who were responsible for its condition. Mr. Oliver stepped up to the horse and gently felt of its injured limb, after which he turned abruptly toward Mr. Barclay and Frank noticed that his face was set.