cased in an armour-like shell
of frozen, claret-coloured snow.

At the approach of the would-be rescuers the poor brute whinnied
pitifully and made another ineffectual attempt to rise. Yorke flung
himself onto the head and held it down, while George dived frantically
for the man's body, and tugged until he had got the leg from under.

"Hung up! by God!" gasped the former, "his foot's well-nigh through the
stirrup!"

Redmond, ex-medical student, made swift examination. "Dead!" he
pronounced with finality, "Good God! dead as a herring! The man's been
dragged and kicked to death!" He made a futile effort to release the
imprisoned foot.

"No! no!" cried Yorke sharply, "no use doing that if he's dead.
Coroner's got to view things as they are."

The horse began to struggle again painfully. Peering down the
badger-hole they could see the broken bone of its leg protruding bloodily
through the skin. Yorke released one hand and reached for his gun.

"Poor old chap!" he said, "we'll fix you. Quick Red! pull the body as
far back as the stirrup-legadeiro'll go! That'll do! There, old
boy! . . ."

And with practised hand he sent a merciful bullet crashing through brain
and spinal cord. The hind legs threshed awhile, but presently, with a
muscular quiver they stiffened and all was still. Yorke, releasing his
hold struggled to his feet, and the two men stared pityingly at what lay
before them. What those merciless, steel-shod hoofs had left of the head
and the youthful body indicated a man somewhere in his twenties. His
ice-bound outer clothing consisted of black Angora goatskin chaps and a
short sheepskin coat.

"Can't place him--like this," muttered Yorke, after prolonged scrutiny,
"but I seem to know the horse."

Suddenly he uttered a sharp exclamation--something between a groan and a
cry. Redmond, startled at a new horror apparent on the other's ghastly
face, clutched him by the arm.

"What's up?" he queried tensely.

Yorke struggled to speak. "Fox!" he gasped presently--"this
morning. . . . I never told you. My God!--You might have got hung up
like this, too."

"No! no! Yorkey!" Redmond almost shouted the disclaimer, "Slavin wised
me up to that trick of his yesterday. I forgot. It was my own fault I
got piled like that. Forget it, old man! I say forget it!"

He shook the other's arm with a sort of savage gentleness.

A look of vague relief dawned on Yorke's haggard face. "Ay, so!" he
murmu