"Hurt, Jack?" cried Bob again, as, with flying leaps, he reached the big boy's side.
Conroy felt his side and shoulder, then his arms.
"I've been dented in about a hundred places, Somers," he grinned, weakly. "Gee, but my shoulder hurts; that crash when I landed was a corker—no bones broken, though. What happened to you, Bob? Had to jump, eh? Just what I was about to do when the bronc-saver came out to say 'Good-day!'"
The other riders, who by this time had succeeded in controlling their horses, cantered rapidly up, and Jack was kept busy for a few moments answering their excited questions.
The relief of the crowd was voiced in a joyous cheer when all presently realized that, in spite of his terrific shaking up and fall, Jack Conroy had escaped serious injury.
"An' don't forget a little 'tiger' for the bear, fellows," laughed Jack. "As a bronc-saver, he was a daisy. No, I wasn't scared, Tommy; never would have let that silly dub of a sorrel chuck me over five hundred an' eighty feet through the air—no, sir. Ouch! Wow! Another wireless!"
"We'd better not do any more traveling to-day, fellows," suggested Bob. "Some mighty good places to camp right around here; what do you say?"
"Suits me," said Jack, ruefully rubbing his shoulder. "I don't feel quite fit, yet. Say, Dave, where'd your packhorse an' the other broncs get to?"
"He broke away just as I overtook the crowd," answered Dave, apologetically. "You see, I hadn't tied the rope very tight, and one glance at the bear was enough."
"Oh!" Jack stared hard at the landscape. "Bet the silly dub's 'bout five miles away by this time, Dave," he drawled. "Don't see 'im anywhere."