“Why, it’s Horace!” exclaimed Jim. “He’s hurt.”
Dismounting, he climbed down the bank beside the dog and looked at him carefully. The spaniel gazed up at him and whined piteously. Cautiously, Jim began to feel the animal. The hind legs seemed sound enough but when his hands touched the forelegs the dog suddenly growled viciously and snapped at him.
“He’s hurt in the front legs,” Jim informed Ticktock. “I guess a car hit him and broke them.”
So long as Jim did not touch the injured legs, the dog regarded him with pleading pain-filled eyes. Jim was in a quandary. He could ride back into town and inform Dr. Cornby that his dog was hurt and lying beside the road. However, the dog might be hurt internally also and minutes might be precious. By the time he reached town and then led the doctor back to find the dog it might be too late. On the other hand, how would he take the dog to town himself. The poor animal snapped at him each time he touched the injured legs and moving him might be the wrong thing to do. Jim’s knowledge of first aid was very limited but he had heard that moving a broken limb was sometimes unwise. Horace decided the question by looking up once more and crying pitifully. Jim just couldn’t leave him there alone in the dark.
Returning to his horse, he untied his poncho. He carefully spread it out flat beside the helpless dog. Then, talking gently and reassuringly, he gradually inched the injured spaniel over onto the center of the poncho.
“We’re going to be as gentle as we can,” he told the dog. “If this hurts a little, it won’t be because we mean it.”
He folded the edge of the poncho under so the dog’s head would be clear and pulled up the corners. By maneuvering the sides of the poncho he was able to roll the dog onto its back very gently. Then he tied the three free corners together. Leading Ticktock down into the ditch, he finally managed to lift the dog and hook the knotted corners of the poncho over the saddle horn. He mounted very carefully and with the dog suspended as comfortably as possible in his makeshift sling, started the journey back to town.
Jim was on his way to the veterinarian’s home when he remembered the words at the newspaper office. Doctor Cornby was probably still there playing cards, as it was before midnight. Since the doctor’s office was only two doors from the Gazette building, Jim directed the mustang to the main street. There were still lighted windows in the newspaper office, so his guess proved correct.
He left Ticktock at the curb and went up to the front door. He found it locked, so he banged loudly. Bill Arnold came to the door in his shirt sleeves.
“Hello, Jim. What are you doing back?”