The road was level here, but very narrow. Bunty relaxed wearily, although the stage was going almost as fast as it had been. But he knew the danger was over.
Gradually he slowed down the team, but they were still galloping when a chuck-hole caused the stage to swerve. Came a sickening lurch, the crash of a wheel, and Rex felt himself shoot off the seat and go head over heels into the brush beside the road.
The foliage broke the force of his fall, but he was still dazed when he staggered back to the road, where Bunty was trying to get a struggling leader to his feet. The rest of the team were standing with lowered heads, blowing heavily from their long run down the mountain.
The leader finally managed to struggle to his feet, after being partly unhitched, and Bunty quickly fastened the tugs again. He turned and looked at Rex, and a slow grin overspread his face.
‘You took quite a hoolihan, didn’t yuh, pardner? Whooee! That was quite some ride. Thought for a while that I had m’ right hand stretched out for a harp.’
‘What ha-happened?’ stammered Rex.
‘Busted a front wheel on a boulder, dang the luck. Chuck-hole skidded us into it.’
He went around and tried to examine the extent of the damage, but the brush was so thick and the wheel was so embedded in the brush and rocks that he was unable to see just how bad it was.
Bunty squinted at the sun, swore hollowly, and sat down to smoke a cigarette. Although it would soon be sundown, he did not hurry. He was due in Mesa City before dark, but there was no hard-and-fast schedule.
After due deliberation he unhitched the team, tied them to a tree, and made an examination of the broken wheel. But it was too badly damaged for further progress; so they sat down to wait until some one should come along.