Kid Wolf of Texas Part 20

"Just call me The Wolf!" The Kid barked. "I'm managin' the S Bar right now, and if yo' men don't want to be friends, I'll be right glad to have yo' fo' enemies!"

Mullhall had pressed very close. It was as if the whole thing had been prearranged. His hands suddenly shot out and seized Kid Wolf's arms--pinning them tightly.

It was an old and deadly trick. While Mullhall pinioned the Texan, Steve Stacy planned to draw and shoot him down. The pair had worked together like the cogwheels of a machine, and all was perfectly timed.

Stacy drew like a flash, c.o.c.king his .45 as it left the holster.

The play, however, was not worked fast enough. Kid Wolf was not to be victimized by such a threadbare ruse. He was too fast, too strong. He whirled Mullhall about, his left boot went behind Mullhall's legs.

With all his force he threw his weight against him, tearing his arms free.

Mullhall went backward like a catapult, directly at Stacy. The gun exploded in the air, and as the slug buzzed into the roof, both Mullhall and the exforeman went down like bags of meal--a tangled maze of legs and arms.

"Get up," The Kid drawled. "And get out!"

Kid Wolf had not bothered to draw his guns, but Anton, Wise, and Lathum had reached for theirs, and they had the angry pair covered. Stacy changed his mind about whirling his gun on his forefinger as he recovered it, and sullenly shoved it into its holster.

"We'll get yuh!" snarled Stacy, his furious eyes boring into The Kid's cool gray ones. "San Felipe is too small to hold both of us!"

"_Bueno,_" said The Kid calmly. "I wish yo' luck--yo'll need it. But in the meantime--vamose p.r.o.nto!"

Swearing angrily, the two men obeyed. It seemed the healthiest thing to do just then. They slunk out like whipped curs, but The Kid knew their breed.

He would see them again.

"Oh, the wintah's sun is s.h.i.+nin' on the Rio, I'm ridin' in mah homeland and I find it mighty nice; Life is big and fine and splendid on the Rio, With just enough o' trouble fo' the spice!"

If Kid Wolf's improvised song was wanting from a poetical standpoint, the swinging, lilting manner in which he crooned it made up for its defects. His tenor rose to the canyon walls, rich and musical.

"Our cake's plumb liable to be overspiced with trouble," Frank Lathum said with a laugh.

Kid Wolf, with his three newly hired riders, were well on their way to the S Bar. His companions knew of a short route that would take them directly to the Thomas hacienda, and they were following a steep-walled canyon out of the mesa lands to the westward.

"Look!" cried Wise. "Somebody's coming after us!"

They turned and saw a lone horseman riding toward them from the direction of San Felipe. The rider was astride a fast-pacing Indian pony and overhauling them rapidly. Since leaving the town, Kid Wolf's party had been in no hurry, and this had enabled the rider to overtake them.

"It's Goliday," muttered Anton, shading his weather-beaten eyes with a brown hand.

"Just who is he?" The Kid drawled.

"I think he's really the hombre behind Major Stover," Wise spoke up.

"He owns the ranch to the north o' the S Bar, and from what I hear, Stover has been tryin' to buy it fer him."

"Oh," The Kid murmured, "let's wait fo' him then, and heah what he has to say."

Accordingly, the four men drew up to a halt and wheeled about to face the oncoming ranchman. They could see him raising his hand in a signal for them to halt. He came up in a cloud of dust, checked his pony, and surveyed the little party. His eyes at once sought out Kid Wolf.

Goliday was a man of forty, black-haired and sallow of face. He wore a black coat and vest over a light-gray s.h.i.+rt. Beneath the former peeped the ivory handle of a .45.

"h.e.l.lo," panted the newcomer. "Are you the hombre that caused all the stir back in San Felipe?"

"What can I do fo' yo'?" asked the Texan briefly.

"Well," said Goliday, "let's be friends. I'll be quite frank. I want the S Bar. Is it true yo're goin' there to run the place for the old woman?"

"It is," The Kid told him.

"I'll pay yuh well to let the place alone," offered Goliday after a pause. "I'll give five thousand cash for the ranch, and if the deal goes through, why I'm willin' to ante up another thousand to split between you four.

"I'm a generous man, and it'll pay to have me for a friend. Savvy? As an enemy I won't be so good. Now, Mr. Wolf, if that's yore name, just advise Mrs. Thomas to sell right away. Is it a bargain?"

"It's mo' than that," murmured The Kid softly. "It's an insult."

Goliday did not seem to hear this remark. He reached into his vest and drew out something that glittered in the sun.

"Here's a hundred and twenty to bind the bargain--six double eagles.

And there's more where these came from. Will yuh take 'em?"

"I'll take 'em," drawled Kid Wolf. He reached out for the gold, and they clinked into his palm.

"I'll take 'em," he repeated, "and beah's what I'll do with 'em!"

With a sweeping movement, he tossed them high into the air. The sun glittered on them as they went up. Then, with his other hand, The Kid drew one of his guns.

Before the handful of coins began to drop, The Kid was firing at them.

He didn't waste a bullet. With each quick explosion a piece of gold flew off on a tangent. _Br-r-rang, cling! Br-r-rang, ting!_ There were six coins, and The Kid fired six times. He never missed one! He picked the last one out of the air, three feet from the ground.

Goliday watched this exhibition of uncanny target practice with bulging eyes. As the echoes of the last shot died away, he turned on The Kid with a bellow of wrath.

"No, yo' don't!" Kid Wolf sang out.

Goliday took his hand away from the b.u.t.t of his ivory-handled gun. The Texan had pulled his other revolver with the bewildering speed of a magician. Goliday was covered, "plumb center."

"That's our answah, sah!" The Kid snapped.

Goliday's sallow face was red with rage.

"I have power here!" he rasped. "And yuh'll hear from me! There's only one law in this country, and that's six-gun law--yuh'll feel it within forty-eight hours!"

"Is that so?" said The Kid contemptuously. "I have a couple of lawyahs heah that can talk as fast as any in San Felipe County. The S Bar accepts yo' challenge. Come on, boys. Let's don't waste any mo' time with this."

Grinning, the quartet struck out again westward, leaving the disgruntled ranchman behind. The last they saw of him, he was kicking about in the mesquite, looking for his gold.

CHAPTER XIII