r--"

"Shank," interrupted the scout. "Call him Shank from now, so's we may
all git used to it; tho' p'r'aps it ain't o' much importance, for most
o' the men that saw him here saw him in uncommon bad condition an' would
hardly know him again, besides, they won't likely be at Bull's ranch,
an' the captain an' troops that were here have been ordered down south.
Still one can never be too careful when life and death may be i' the
balance. Your friend niver was one o' the outlaws, but it mightn't be
easy to prove that."

"Well, then," resumed our hero, "I was going to say that I fear Shank
won't be able to stand the journey even to the ranch."

"No fear of that, sir. We'll carry him down to the foot o' the Trap,
an' when we git out on the plain mount him on one o' the horses left by
poor Buck--the one that goes along so quiet that they've given it the
name o' the Wheelbarrow."

"Should I speak to him to-night about our plan, Ben?"

"No. If I was you I'd only say we're goin' to take him down to Bull's
ranch i' the mornin'. That'll take his mind a bit off the letter, an'
then it'll give him an extra lift when you tell him the rest o' the
plan."

In accordance with this arrangement, on the following morning a litter
was made with two stout poles and a blanket between. On this the
invalid was laid after an early breakfast; another blanket was spread
over him, and the scout and Dick, taking it up between them, carried him
out of Traitor's Trap, while Charlie Brooke, riding Jackson's horse, led
the Wheelbarrow by the bridle. As for Black Polly, she was left to
follow at her own convenience, a whistle from Hunky Ben being at any
moment sufficient to bring her promptly to her master's side.

On reaching the plain the litter was laid aside, the blankets were
fastened to the horses, and Shank prepared, as Dick said, to board
Wheelbarrow.

"Now then, Shank," said the seaman, while helping his friend, "don't be
in a hurry. Nothin' was ever done well in a hurry either afloat or
ashore. Git your futt well into the stirrup an' don't take too much of
a spring, else you'll be apt to go right over on the starboard side.
Hup you go!"

The worthy sailor lent such willing aid that there is little doubt he
would have precipitated the catastrophe against which he warned, had not
Hunky Ben placed himself on the "starboard side" of the steed and
counteracted the heave. After that all went well; the amble of the
Wheelbarrow ful