Johnny shouted after him and then wheeled and raced towards the camp, emptying his Colt in the air as a warning.  He saw figures scurrying across the lighted place, and before he had gained it his friends raced past him and gave him hard work catching up to them.  And just behind him rode the stranger, to do what he could for his new friends, and as reckless of consequences as they.

It seemed an age before they caught up to the stragglers, and when they realized how true they had ridden in the dark they believed that at last their luck was turning for the better, and pushed on with renewed hope.  Hopalong shouted to those nearest him that Bennett’s Creek could not be far away and hazarded the belief that the steers would slow up and stop when they found the water they craved; but his words were lost to all but himself.

Suddenly the punchers were almost trapped and their escape made miraculous, for without warning the herd swerved and turned sharply to the right, crossing the path of the riders and forcing them to the east, showing Hopalong their silhouettes against the streak of pale gray low down in the eastern sky.  When free from the sudden press of cattle they slowed perceptibly, and Hopalong did likewise to avoid running them down.  At that instant the uproar took on a new note and increased threefold.  He could hear the shock of impact, whip-like reports, the bellowing of cattle in pain, and he arose in his stirrups to peer ahead for the reason, seeing, as he did so, the silhouettes of his friends arise and then drop from his sight.  Without additional warning his horse pitched forward and crashed to the earth, sending him over its head.  Slight as was the warning it served to ease his fall, for instinct freed his feet from the stirrups, and when he struck the ground it was feet first, and although he fell flat at the next instant, the shock had been broken.  Even as it was, he was partly stunned, and groped as he arose on his hands and knees.  Arising painfully he took a short step forward, tripped and fell again; and felt a sharp pain shoot through his hand as it went first to break the fall.  Perhaps it was ten seconds before he knew what it was that had thrown him, and when he learned that he also learned the reason for the whole calamity—­in his torn and bleeding hand he held a piece of barb wire.

“Barb wire!” he muttered, amazed.  “Barb wire!  Why, what the—­Damn that ranch!” he shouted, sudden rage sweeping over him as the situation flashed through his mind and banished all the mental effects of the fall.  “They’ve gone an’ strung it south of the creek as well!  Red!  Johnny!  Lanky!” he shouted at the top of his voice, hoping to be heard over the groaning of injured cattle and the general confusion.  “Good Lord! are they killed!”

They were not, thanks to the forced slowing up, and to the pool of water and mud which formed an arm of the creek, a back-water away from the pull of the current.  They had pitched into the mud and water up to their waists, some head first, some feet first, and others as they would go into a chair.  Those who had been fortunate enough to strike feet first pulled out the divers, and the others gained their feet as best they might and with varying degrees of haste, but all mixed profanity and thankfulness equally well; and were equally and effectually disguised.