“Enough to be his brother,” Roy muttered.
Teddy nodded, understanding the remark.
“Does look like Pop,” he said in a low voice. “Gosh, he’s bleeding.”
Roy tore the handkerchief from his head and, using another and smaller one for a pad, he bound up the wound. Unskilled as the boys were in matters pertaining to surgery, they saw that the jugular vein was not severed, but that the blood came from smaller vessels beneath the skin.
“He’s got a chance if we can stop the bleeding,” Roy declared. “I wonder why—”
The man groaned and opened his eyes. They stared up at the two boys unseeing, and after a moment closed again.
“Wants to say something,” Teddy muttered. “Lie still, sir. You’ll be all right. Just lie still.”
Roy shook his head. The man’s face was growing greyer every second.
“We’ve got to get him out of here! Teddy, there’s only one thing to do. You ride like the mischief for the ranch and get Mr. Ball or somebody to bring a car. See if you can bring some aromatic spirits of ammonia. I’ll wait here.”
“Right!” Teddy wasted no words, but swung himself into the saddle. “Suppose they come back?” he called suddenly, as Flash started.