co did not respond. Instead, he came back
suddenly on his haunches, as if the rope on the cow-puncher's saddle
had lurched to the leap of a steer.
Coco knew well the precise instant when it is advisable for a cow-pony
to forestall the wrench of the lasso. But now the loop of hemp hung
limp on the saddle-horn, and Gribble, surprised at being nearly thrown,
rose in the stirrups to see what was underfoot.
A drenched thing it was which huddled at the roadside; very limp,
indeed, and laxly lending itself to the motions of Gribble's hands as
he lifted and shook it.
"Seems to be alive!" muttered the cow-puncher. "Where could she have
dropped from? Aha! here's a broken arm! I better take her right to town
to the doctor. Hi there, Coco!" He laid Lola over the saddle and
mounted behind his dripping burden.
When the coal-camp came in sight on the green skirt of the plains, with
the Apishapa scrolling the distance in a velvet ribbon, sunset was
already forward, and the smoke of many an evening fire veined the late
sky.
A man coming toward the canyon stopped at sight of Gribble. He was the
store clerk going home to supper. He shouted, "Hullo, Bev! Why, what
have you struck? Bless me, it's the little girl they're all hunting!
She belongs to Miss Combs, it seems. Her mother died here the other
day. Found her up the canyon, eh? They been all ranging north, thinking
she'd taken after her pa. Maybe she thought he'd headed for La Veta
pass? Looks sure 'nough bad, don't she?"
Jane, when she heard the pony cross the bridge, ran to the door, as she
had run so many times during the long, anxious day. She took the girl
from Gribble without a word, and bore her into the house from which she
had fled with so much loathing.
"Don't look so scared!" said Gribble, kindly. "It's only a broken bone
or so." As this consoling assurance seemed not to lessen Jane's alarm,
he went on cheerfully to say, "There isn't one in my body hasn't been
splintered by these broncos! Tinker 'em up and they're better than new.
Here's doc coming lickety-switch! He'll tell you the same."
But the doctor was less encouraging. "It isn't merely a question of
bones," he said, observing his patient finally in her splints and
bandages. "It's the nervous strain she's lately undergone. She's been
overtaxed with so much excitement and sorrow. If she pulls through,
it'll be the nursing."
Jane drew a deep breath. "She won't die if nursing can save her!" said
she.
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