“I don’t know,” said Joe dully. “He—his foot was caught in the stirrup, Hozie. The horse dragged him. I just found him a minute ago. Yuh can see his—his leg’s broke.”
Joe pointed up the dusty road toward town.
“Yuh can see where the horse dragged him.”
The trail through the dust was plainly visible, and the condition of Jim’s clothes showed what had happened.
“Still alive,” panted Hozie. “Lonnie, ride to town as fast as yuh can. Get a hack and the doctor. We can’t move him any other way.”
Lonnie ran to his horse, mounted on the run and went racing up the road. It was shady along the road; so they made no effort to move Wheeler. Hozie paced up and down beside the road, his hands clenched.
“Where have you been, Joe?” he asked.
Joe, squatting on his heels beside the road, looked up at the old man.
“I was over at the HJ, Hozie.”
“Uh-huh. I wonder if there’s anythin’ we can do? By golly, I never felt so danged helpless in my life. I tell yuh, Joe, he’s awful badly hurt.”