the end of
the lariat, had reached the shore they so recently quitted, on what
object could only be guessed. Then there was very evidently a
conference among the sheep herders during which the excited men who had
taken part in the adventure pointed to the spot where the horse was
struggling.

"I hope they aren't going to leave that poor brute to suffer," murmured
Yellin' Kid, his voice low for one of the few times in his career.

But it was evident that whatever were the faults of the sheep herders
they did not number among them too much cruelty to a horse. For when
it was evident that the animal could not free himself, a number of the
Greasers rode as close as was safe, and tossed their lariats about the
animal's neck. Then they began pulling.

But the quicksands had too firm a grip on the animal's legs. He had
sunk lower in the stream, and his struggles were less, simply because
he was now so nearly engulfed in the powerful suction of the
water-soaked and ever-shifting sands.

"They'll never get him out,' said Dick.

"Have to pull his poor head off if they do," agreed Bud.

And this was so evident that the Mexican sheep herders soon gave up the
attempt. They dared not even go close enough to the horse to release
their ropes, but, casting them off from their saddle horns, had to see
them sink down in the quicksands with the poor beast.

For this is what happened. The unfortunate animal, unable to extricate
himself from the terrible grip of the sands, being too firmly held to
permit of being dragged out, sank lower and lower. The water came half
way up his sides. It closed over his back, but still his head was free.

With all his power the brute struggled, but with four legs gripped he
could do little more than shudder convulsively. Then as the waters
came closer and closer to his head, caused by the fact that the horse
was sinking lower and lower in the soft sand, the beast gave a terrible
cry--terrible in its agony.

A moment later it was gone from sight forever.

A hush fell upon the assemblage of cowboys in front of the Spur Creek
fort of Diamond X ranch. And a hush, no less, came over the bunch of
Mexican sheep herders on the far side of the stream. But that the man
could leap off and swim to shore, aided by his companion's lariat, the
fate of the horse in the quicksands might have been his fate.

"What's going on?" asked a voice behind Bud and Dick.

They turned quickly to behold Nort, who