Going down to the edge of the creek, at one side of the bridge, Russ dented in the outside top of his cap, and filled it with water.
Then, carrying the cap as carefully as he could, Russ made his way to where the cowboy had called from. The little boy found the injured man lying in the tall grass.
"Ah! That's good!" exclaimed the cowboy, as he drank the water. "Now if you could catch my horse for me maybe I could get up on him, and ride him to where I belong. Do you see my horse anywhere?"
Russ looked all about. At first he saw nothing, but, as he gazed across the bridge he saw, on the other side of the creek, a big horse eating grass.
"I see him!" said Russ to the cowboy. "He's over the bridge."
"Is he? That's good. Then he didn't go very far away, after all. Now, look here, you seem to be a pretty smart boy," and the cowboy spoke in a stronger voice, now that he had had a drink of water. "Do you want to help me?"
"Yes," said Russ, "I'd like to help you. My mother says we must help everybody, and give them a drink of cold water, even our enemies, and I know you're not an enemy."
"I don't know about that," said the cowboy with a queer laugh, and he turned his head away and seemed to be looking at his horse, which was on the other side of the bridge, eating grass.
"No, you're not an enemy," went on Russ. "An enemy is a bad man, and you're not that."
"I wouldn't be so sure on that point, either," returned the cowboy. "But I won't hurt you, that's certain. Now look here, boy——"