"I see you done held the fort, son," said the fat man. "Fine and dandy! How's Dinsmore?"
"Quieter. He slept a good deal in the night. How are we going to get him across the river?"
The Ranger joined them. He nodded a friendly greeting at Ridley.
"Our luck held up all right. I see you been doin' some fancy shootin'."
Arthur looked at him. The eyes of the Easterner were full of timid doubt. What did this game Texan think of him who had proposed to leave a wounded man to his fate? The Ranger beamed a kindly comradeship, but the other young fellow wondered what was passing in the back of his mind.
They held a committee on ways and means about Dinsmore.
"We can't stay here--got to get him to town where he can be fixed up," Jumbo said.
"We'll take him over to the other bank and send for a buckboard," decided Jack.
The wounded man was carried to the head of the island, and strapped to the back of a horse. Jumbo, Roberts, and Ridley guided the horse into the current and helped it fight through to the shallow water beyond.
Twenty-four hours later Dinsmore was in bed in Tascosa. Dr. Bridgman said, with the usual qualification about complications, that the man probably would get well. The bullet had not punctured his lungs.