"Anybody hurt?" he questioned, as he ran forward.
"Roger got his ankle twisted, running away from the steer," answered Dave.
"What did the critter do?" went on the cowboy, and Phil and the others told their story, to which Sid Todd listened with interest. The other cowboys also came up, to look the fallen steer over.
"He sure is a crazy one," said Yates. "If I was the boss, I'd shoot him."
"I'll report about him as soon as I get back," answered Todd. "Say, you had a nerve to take hold of this lasso," he went on to Phil.
"Dave told me to do it," was the answer of the shipowner's son. "It was easy enough—when I was on horseback. I shouldn't have done it if I had been on foot."
"Not much—unless you're a staving good runner," said Yates, with a grin.
The steer was too exhausted to make further resistance just then, and the cowboys had but little trouble in taking the lasso from his foreleg.
"He'll be all right after a bit," said Todd, in answer to a question from Dave. "But I think myself he isn't just O. K. in his head, and the next time we want some fresh meat we might as well kill him off and be done with it."
The cowboy insisted upon looking at Roger's ankle. The member was somewhat swollen, but
