“What did he say?”
“He allowed it was Red Thunderbolt as made him all the trouble.”
“Ha! Better late than never. This is right from headquarters. Bloom! Do you hear that, Bloom?”
Bloom heard it, but he made no comments.
“What else did Jake say?” asked Phelps eagerly.
“Said he was ridin’ fer home when Red Thunderbolt charged him,” went on Prouther; “he said Nate Dunbar didn’t have nothin’ ter do with it. Jake said he tried ter rope Thunderbolt, an’ the steer galloped on with his saddle an’ saddlebags, leaving Jake on the ground. Jake was some shook up, and he was climbin’ to his feet an’ rubbin’ his eyes when he see Thunderbolt comin’ at him full tilt. Thunderbolt landed. The sunshine was blotted out fer Jake, an’ thet’s all he kin recollect until he woke up, with me settin’ by him fannin’ him. I was afeared,” Prouther added, “that Bloom might be doin’ somethin’ with Dunbar. That’s why I pulled out ter find you all.”
“I reckon this case is double proof!” laughed the doctor. “Say, Prouther, you were one of the crazy men who came to the Star-A last night to ‘get’ Nate Dunbar. Now how do you feel?”
“Meachin’,” answered Prouther promptly, “meachin’ as sin. I’m a heap sorry for it all, Dunbar,” he added sheepishly.
“All’s well that ends well,” said the doctor. “Maybe, if you cowpunchers are good from now on, Dunbar will overlook that little play.”
“You’re sure Jake will live now, are you, doc?” asked Phelps.