True, many of the non-coms, and even “straight-duty bucks,” were Benedicts, for various reasons best known to themselves. But Ellis, forever mindful of the old fable of “The fox who lost his tail in a trap,” only laughed aside cynically all their feeble, joking admonitions to him to join their ranks and, taking “Punch’s” advice instead, “didn’t.”
Why had that cursed old frump come butting in? “Only a policeman!” ... And with an angry Ellis unconsciously rammed the spurs into poor, unoffending Johnny, who immediately broke in his gait with a sidelong jump which, in its suddenness, nearly unseated him.
The spasmodic jerk of the horse brought Benton to himself again, and with a “There, there, Johnny—you old fool—I didn’t mean to rake you,” he patted and eased that startled animal down to his customary pace.
“She made a lot of you, didn’t she, Johnny? And you know you liked it!”
He rambled on, for latterly—in the utter loneliness of his long patrols—the Sergeant had contracted the strange habit of talking aloud to his horse, and Johnny’s sensitive ears would prick backwards and forwards as if he thoroughly comprehended what was being said to him.
Traveling easily, and in no particular hurry, Benton made “Marshall’s” for dinner, and towards evening drew in sight of Cherry Creek district, with its few scattered ranches and mixed farms.
When about half a mile from his detachment, some objects strewn on the trail ahead attracted his attention which, on drawing near, took the form of pieces of paper, some spilt chicken-feed and flour, bits of board, and the tail-board of a wagon; also, had he but noticed it, a lot of scattered nails.
With a grim chuckle he passed on. “Looks like somebody’s had a smash-up,” he muttered. Suddenly he pulled Johnny up sharply, for the latter had begun to limp perceptibly on the off-forefoot and, on examination, Ellis found a nail deeply embedded at the side of the frog. He tried to pry it out with his fingers and a knife, but it was in up to the head and his attempts were useless.
“No help for it, Johnny,” he said. “You’ll have to stick it till we get home,” and with a disgusted malediction at the ill-luck, he wended his way slowly ahead on foot, Johnny following on three legs like a lame dog.
On arrival at their destination the nail was eventually extracted with the aid of pincers, and after bathing and syringing the bleeding prod with hot water and peroxide of hydrogen, the horse moved easier; but Ellis was well aware that several days, perhaps a week, would elapse before it would be safe to use him. And with the knowledge of this fact oppressing him came also the realization that, should anything turn up in the meantime, he would be under the necessity of borrowing a horse from some one.