Kid Wolf of Texas Part 13

The Hardy band had gathered about the burning buildings in a close ring, ready to shoot down any one the instant he showed himself. The situation looked hopeless.

"Stay in there if yuh want to!" a voice shouted outside. "Burn up, or take lead! It's all the same to us!"

The heat-tortured Scotty staggered to his feet and groped toward one of the plunging, screaming horses.

"Lead is the easiest way," he choked. "They'll get me, but I'm goin'

to try and ride this hoss out o' here!"

"Wait a minute!" Kid Wolf cried. "All get yo' hosses ready and make the break when I say the word. But not until!"

Gritting their teeth, they prepared to endure the baking heat for a few minutes more. They did not know what Kid Wolf was going to do, but they had faith that he would do something. And they knew, as things stood, that they could not hope for anything but death if they tried to escape now.

The stable was a ma.s.s of flames. The walls were crumbling and falling in. The Texan gave his final orders.

"If any of us get through," he gasped, "we'll meet on the Chisholm Trail--below heah. Ride hard, with heads low--when I say the word!"

Then Kid Wolf played his trump card. Upon leaving the store itself, he had taken a small keg with him--a powder keg. Until now, none of the others had noticed it. Holding it in his two hands, he darted through the door into the open! Bits of burning wood were all about him; flames licked at his boots as he stood upright, the keg over his head.

"Scattah!" he shouted at the astonished Hardy gang. "I'm blowin' us all to kingdom come!"

The Texan made a glorious picture as he stood there, framed in red and yellow. Fire was under his feet and on every side. The glow of it illuminated his face, which was stained with powder smoke and blackened by the flames. His eyes shone joyously, and a laugh of defiance and recklessness was on his lips as he swung the poised keg aloft.

The Hardy gang, frozen with terror for an instant, scattered. They ran like frightened jack rabbits. To shoot Kid Wolf would have been easy, but none of them dared to attempt it. For if the keg was dropped, one spark would set it off. Overcome with panic, the ring of outlaws melted into the night.

The Texan gave the signal, and Tip, Caldwell, Scotty, and White tore out of the doorway on their frightened horses, heads low, scattering as they came. Kid Wolf whistled sharply for Blizzard and pulled himself effortlessly into the saddle as the big white horse went by at a mad gallop. He tossed away the keg as he did so.

The Hardy faction began shooting then, but it was too late. Bullets hummed over the heads of the escaping riders, but not one found its mark.

Kid Wolf found himself riding alongside Tip McCay. The others had taken different routes. The sounds of guns behind them were rapidly growing fainter, and they were hidden by the pitch darkness. Kid Wolf heard Tip laughing to himself--a rather high-pitched, nervous laugh.

"Are yo' all right, Tip?" sang out the Texan.

"Great! Yore plan worked to a T! But do yuh know what was in that powder keg yuh used?"

"Yes, I knew all the time," chuckled The Kid. "It wasn't powdah at all. It was lime. I found that out when I tried to load a Sharps rifle from it. But just the same, Tip, the bluff worked!"

CHAPTER IX

THE NIGHT HERD

By the time the Hardy faction had given up the chase in disgust, Caldwell, White, and Scotty had joined Tip and the Texan some miles below Midway on the Chisholm Trail. The former three were jubilant over their unexpected release from the fire trap, but they agreed with the Texan's first proposal.

"We've got mo' work to do, boys," he drawled. "If we wanted to, we could give that gang the slip fo' good and make ouah get-away. I think, though, that yo' feel as I do. What do yo' say we rustle back that herd o' longhorns that Hardy stole from Tip's dad?"

It meant running into danger again, and lots of it, but none of them hesitated. Kid Wolf had made his promise, and the others vowed to see him through. It took them but a few moments to plan their reckless venture and get into action.

The Kid hated Hardy now, just as heartily as did Tip McCay. And even if he had not given his word to the dying cattleman, he would not have left a stone unturned to bring the rustling saloon keeper to justice.

More than once before, Kid Wolf had used the law of the Colt when other measures failed to punish. And now, even although handicapped and outnumbered, he planned to strike. The stolen herd represented a small fortune, and rightfully belonged to Tip McCay and his mother. But where were the longhorns now?

Tip's suggestion was helpful. He thought the cattle could not be more than a few miles below. They quickly decided to ride south, and Tip and The Kid led the way. The moon was up now, and it lighted the open prairie with a soft glow. The five riders pounded down the old Chisholm cattle road at a furious clip, eyes open for signs. Presently Tip cried:

"We'll find 'em down there at Green Springs! I see a light! It's a camp fire!"

On the horizon they made out the feathery tops of trees against the sky, and riding closer, they could see a dark ma.s.s bunched up around them--little dots straying out at the edges. It was the stolen McCay herd!

No general on the field of battle planned more carefully than the Texan. The party came closer, warily and making no noise. As they did so, they could hear the bawling of the cattle. Some were milling and restless, and the cattleman could see four men on horses at different points, attempting to keep the animals quiet and soothed. At the camp fire, several hundred yards from the springs, were four other men. Two of these seemed to be asleep in their blankets; the other pair were talking and smoking.

"The odds," drawled Kid Wolf in a low tone, "are eight to five in theah favah. Tip, yo' take the man on the no'th. Scotty, yores is the hombre on the west, ridin' the pinto. Caldwell, take the south man, and yo', White, do yo' best with the gent ovah east."

"How about those four by the fire?" whispered White.

"I'm takin' them myself." The Texan smiled. "We must all work togethah. They won't know who we are at first, probably, and will think we're moah of Hardy's men. Don't shoot unless yo' have to."

One of the two bearded ruffians by the camp fire clutched his companion's sleeve. Two other men lay snoring on the other side of the crackling embers, and one of them stirred slightly.

"Bill," he muttered, "didn't yuh hear somethin'?"

"I hear a lot o' cows bawlin'." The other grinned. "But what I was tryin' to say is this: If Jack Hardy splits reasonable with us, why we----"

He was interrupted. Both men glanced up, to see a tall figure sauntering toward them into the ring of red firelight. Both stared, then reached for their guns.

"Sorry, gents," they were told in a soft and musical drawl, "but yo're a little late. Will yo' kindly poke yo' hands into the atmospheah?"

The two outlaws experienced a sudden wilting of their gun arms. It was quick death to attempt to draw while the round black eyes of this stranger's twin Colts were on them.

With a jerk, both threw up their hands. One gave a shout--a cry meant to warn his companions.

A shot from the direction of the herd told them, however, that the other outlaws were already aware of something unusual.

The two bandits in the blankets jumped up, rubbing their eyes in amazement. A kick from Kid Wolf's boot sent the .45 of one of them flying. The other, prodded none too gently with a revolver barrel, decided to surrender without further ado.

Lining them up, The Kid disarmed them. He was joined in a few minutes by Tip, White, Caldwell, and Scotty, who were driving two prisoners before them.

"Bueno!" said The Kid. "I see yo' got the job done without much trouble. But wheah's the othah two?"

Scotty smiled grimly, spat in the direction of the fire and said simply:

"They showed fight."

In five minutes, the six outlaws were tied securely with lariat rope, in spite of their fervent and profane protests.

"Jack Hardy will get yuh fer this, blast yuh!" snarled one.

"Maybe," drawled The Kid sweetly, "he won't want us aftah he gets us."