"Yes," answered Russ.
"Oh!" and the cowboy seemed much surprised. "Well, I guess I'd better get my own horse then," he said. "I guess no one from Three Star Ranch would want to help me if they knew what I'd done. Ride along, boy—Russ you said your name was, didn't you? Ride along, and I'll see if I can't crawl over and get my own horse."
Russ did not know what to do. He wanted to help the cowboy, who seemed in much pain, but the little boy was not going to cross the bridge when his mother had told him not to.
"Hey!" called Laddie. "Come on, Russ. I'm tired of holding your pony."
"All right," said Russ. "I'm coming. We have to ride back and ask Mother if we can cross the bridge to catch that horse!" and he pointed to the cowboy's animal, still cropping grass on the other side of the creek.
"No, don't bother about me," said the man in the grass. "I'll get my own horse. Always be a good boy and mind your mother. Then you won't get into trouble. I wish I had minded mine. Maybe I wouldn't be here now. Ride on home, but don't say anything about me."
Russ turned back to join Laddie. As he did so he saw the cowboy try to rise up and walk. But the man, as soon as he put one leg to the ground, uttered a loud cry and fell back. Then he lay very still and quiet.
"What's the matter with him?" asked Laddie, in a low voice.
"I don't know," answered Russ. "But I guess we'd better ride back and tell Daddy or Uncle Fred. They'll know what to do. We can't cross the bridge, but we can go for help. Come on!"
Russ got on his pony again, and he and Laddie rode away as fast as they could, leaving the cowboy very still and quiet, lying in the long grass at the end of the bridge.