must, in justice, be admitted that the leading Arab had decidedly screened the view, and hampered the activity of the other two as he emerged from the little gully between two mighty rocks.
"Gawd luvvus," said 'Erb, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Done in three coppers in a bloomin' lump!"
The Bucking Bronco secured the horses.
"I say," said Rupert, who was bending over Sir Montague Merline, "Bull's badly hit."
"Ketch holt, quick," cried the Bucking Bronco, holding out to 'Erb the three reins which he had drawn over the horses' heads. He threw himself down beside his friend and swore softly, as his experienced eye recognised the unmistakable signs.
"Is he dying?" whispered Rupert.
"His number's up," groaned the American.
"Done in by a copper!" marvelled 'Erb, and, putting his arm across his face, he leaned against the nearest horse and sobbed.… He was a child-like person, and, without knowing it, had come to centre all his powers of affection on John Bull.
The dying man opened his eyes. "Got it where the chicken got the axe," he whispered. "Good-bye, Buck.… See you in the … Happy Hunting Grounds … I hope."
The Bucking Bronco looked at Rupert.
"Carmelita put thisyer brandy in my pocket, Rupert," he said producing a medicine bottle. "Shall I dope him?"
He coughed and swallowed, his mouth and chin twitched and worked, and tears trickled down his face.
