Turning at a shout he saw Flett and Edgar walking toward him, and he went with them to the fallen horse. A man lay, gray in face, among the grass, held down by the body of the animal which partly rested upon him.
"Get me out," he begged hoarsely. "Leg's broke."
George felt incapable of helping. He sat down while the other two extricated the man; then Flett placed his carbine against the horse's head, and after the report it ceased its struggling.
"She came down on me sudden; couldn't get my foot clear in time," the rustler explained.
"You had to be stopped. I sighted at a hundred; a quick shot," Flett remarked. "Is there anything else the matter except your leg?"
"I guess it's enough," said the helpless man.
Flett turned to George.
"Walk into the bluff and you'll strike our camp. West must stay with me until we put on some fixing that will hold this fellow's leg together."
George did as he was bidden, and sat down again limply when he reached an opening in the wood where a pile of branches, with a kettle suspended over them, had been laid ready for lighting. Presently the others rejoined him.
"The fellow can't be moved until we get a wagon," said Flett. "We've been looking for you all over the country, but it was quite a while before we got a hint that sent us down this way. We had stopped in the bluff when we saw a fellow running with three mounted men after him, and we lay close, expecting to get the bunch. It's unfortunate they got too near you and I had to shoot, but I guess the boys will bring them back."