e.

"Hell mend it!" he growled. "I've turned my ankle in a blasted gopher
hole or something."

He writhed about in agony.

"Guess I'm out this trip," he moaned.

"Toots!" put in Jim. "You'll be all right in a minute. Let us give
your foot a bit of a rub!"

"Strike a light and let me see what's what," suggested the Mayor.

Someone started in to do so.

"Not on your life!" cried Jim. "Haven't you got more savvy than that?
Do you want the whole of that gang up there in on our top?"

A dog barked in the distance and the bark was taken up ominously by
other dogs around the settlement.

"Lower your voices and don't make any racket, for God's sake!" pleaded
Jim. "Come on, make a try, Brenchfield!"

"What else do you think I'm doing?" growled the Mayor between his
teeth. He did make a strong effort then, but was unable to bear his
foot on the ground.

"Darn it! It's no good!" he exclaimed, sitting down disgustedly on a
log.

"Well, boys," returned Jim, in a hopeless tone, "I guess we've got to
leave him. One of us will have to stay with the Mayor. That will leave
six for the job ahead of us. Guess we can manage! Will you stay with
him, Blair?"

"Sure thing!" came the ready reply, "but I hate to miss the fun."

The Mayor's face could not be seen, but his voice broke in rather too
quickly:

"Good heavens!--my own ranch is just up there over the hill. I can
creep there on my hands and knees inside of half an hour;--and I won't
have to do that.

"No, siree! Nobody's going to stay with me. I'm all right. I'll get
along nicely by myself. Every man-jack of you is needed for the job.
Go on! Beat it! Don't worry about me."

"We're not worrying about you, Graham," retorted Jim, not sufficiently
suggestive to set the Mayor at discomfort. "But you know the rule of
the trail, same as we do. When a man gets hurt on a hunting trip,
another of the bunch stays with him. Joe Blair is willing to stay
behind."

"He won't stay with me, I tell you;--this thing isn't going to be held
up or spoiled for me," exclaimed the Mayor. "I'll crawl with you on my
fours, first."

He started to carry out his threat.

Three times he fell and groaned in pain, until Jim became convinced
that Brenchfield's foot was really badly sprained.

"Won't you leave me here? I'll be all right in a while," cried out
Brenchfield, "then I can make my own place in my own time."

"Oh, let's leave him, Jim. We may need every man we've got," said
Morri