"Ye want ter be careful hyer," cautioned Ike Watson. "It's a mighty slippery spot fer the best o' hoss flesh."
Scarcely had he spoken when Noel Urner gave a cry of alarm.
He was in the rear, and both the old hunter and Allen turned quickly to see what was the matter.
They found Noel's horse on his knees, having slipped to one side of the trail.
The young man was on the ground, one foot caught in the stirrup.
"Stop the hoss!" cried Watson. "If ye don't he'll bang the young man's head off!"
Before he had ceased speaking Allen was on the ground. He ran back and caught Noel's horse by the bridle. The young man from the east was partly stunned, and it was several seconds before he could recover sufficiently to disengage his foot and arise from his dangerous position.
"Good for you, Allen!" he cried, as he stood by, while the young ranchman assisted the horse to a safe spot in the trail. "I was afraid I was in for it."
"Ye did jes' the right thing, Allen," put in Ike Watson. "Dunno but wot ye hed better walk
