Kid Wolf of Texas Part 33

The outlaws were taken entirely by surprise. Only Blacksnake had known what was coming, and he was unarmed. Kid Wolf was no longer reeling and staggering. The desperadoes looked up to stare into the sinister muzzle of a .45!

"Shoot him to pieces!" Blacksnake yelled, picking himself up on all fours and whirling to make a jump for The Kid's ankles.

The Texan dodged to one side, his gun sweeping the room. A jet flame darted from the barrel, and there was a crash of broken gla.s.s. He had fired at the liquor flask that one of the outlaws still held at his lips.

"That's a remindah," he said crisply. "Put up yo' hands!"

Guns blazed suddenly. Two of the bandits had reached for their weapons at the same moment. The walls of the adobe shook under blended explosions, and powder smoke drifted down like a curtain, turning the figures of the men into drifting shadows.

The firing was soon over. The Kid's gun had roared a swift tattoo of hammering shots. Dust flew from the wall near his head, but he had spoiled the aim of both outlaws by fast, hair-trigger shooting. One sank against a broken-down bunk in one corner, reamed through the upper right arm and chest. The other fired again, but his gun hand was dangling, and he missed by a foot. Playing cards were scattered, as the other pair of bandits jumped up with their hands over their heads.

"We got enough!" they yelped. "Don't shoot!"

Kid Wolf lashed out at Blacksnake, who was rus.h.i.+ng him again. The short, powerful blow to the jaw sent the leader down for good. He rolled over, stunned.

"_Bueno._" The Texan smiled. "Keep yo' hands right theah, please, caballeros."

Before the powder fumes had cleared away, he had liberated Lefty and Red with quick strokes of his bowie.

"I reckon we've got the uppah hand now, boys." He smiled. "Let's try and keep it. Take their guns, Red."

The two Diamond D men had been as surprised as the outlaws had been.

They had watched the gun fight fearfully and hopefully, and it was an enthusiastic pair that shook off their severed bonds to clap The Kid across the back. There was no time for conversation now, however, and they busied themselves with disarming their five prisoners and binding them with rope.

"Gee, Kid!" Red whistled. "We thought we were done, and when yuh came in and made sparks fly--whew!"

"Theah'll be moah spahks fly, I'm afraid," the Texan drawled. "How'd yo' like to make some spahks fly yo'selves?"

The others showed their eagerness. The fighting fever was in their veins, especially since the death of poor Mike Train. And now, with Blacksnake and half the outlaw gang captured, they felt that they had a good part of the battle won. Red tried to question Blacksnake about his brother's death, but the outlaw was stubborn and refused to talk.

Had it not been for Kid Wolf, Red would have fallen on his enemy and beaten him with his fists. And none of them could blame him.

It was nearly dark, and they made quick plans The stolen herd was not far ahead, and with it were not more than seven of Gentleman John's riders.

"We'll take those cattle away from 'em," said Red fiercely, "and head the steers back to the Diamond D!"

It was decided that the prisoners could be left where they were for the time being, although Lefty Warren was for stringing them up there and then. Kid Wolf shook his head at this suggestion, however, and they armed themselves, "borrowing" the guns of the Blacksnake gang. Then they mounted their horses and headed south through the deepening dusk.

CHAPTER XX

BATTLE ON THE MESA

"Oh, the cowboy sings so mournful on the Rio!

To the dark night herd, so mournful and so sad, And I'd like to be in the moonlight on the Rio, Wheah good men are good, and bad men are bad!"

Kid Wolf sang the tune softly to the whispering wind, as the trio climbed under a New Mexican moon to the top of a vast mesa.

"Guess yuh'll find some plenty bad ones here in Skull County, eh, Kid?"

laughed Red grimly.

The Texan, brightly outlined on his beautiful horse in the moonlight, looked like a ghost on a moving white shadow.

"Bad men," mused Kid Wolf, "aren't so plentiful. Usually theah's some good in the blackest. The men we're goin' to fight to-night, fo'

instance, are probably just driftahs who've drifted the wrong way. But Gentleman John--well, he's one of the few really bad men I've met.

He's really the one we want."

The splendor of the night had a sobering effect on them. To be thinking of possible bloodshed in all that dream beauty seemed terrible. Yet it was necessary. It was a hard land. A man had to be his own law. And in Kid Wolf's case, he had to be the law for others, in a fight for the weak against the strong.

"Listen!" cried Lefty suddenly.

"And look!" whispered Red. "See those black dots against the sky over there? And there's a camp fire, too."

He was right. The glow of a fire reddened the horizon and the distant bawling of uneasy cattle could be heard on the night wind.

The rustlers had made a camp on the mesa until the dawn. The big herd was s.h.i.+fting, restless and milling.

"A gun fight will stampede that herd," observed Red.

"Then," said The Kid, "we'll be sure to stampede them in the right direction. Let's make a wide circle heah."

They rode to the west, so that they would not be outlined against the moon. A full, curving mile slipped under their horses' pounding hoofs before The Kid gave the signal for the turn. He had the outlaws spotted, every one, and all depended now on his generals.h.i.+p. He knew that the two riders on the far side of the night herd would be out of it--for the time, at least. When the herd started their mad stampede toward the Diamond D, they would have a high time just taking care of themselves. The others, five in number, would be dealt with first.

The trio slipped closer as silently as moving phantoms. The Kid saw three mounted men--two blocking their path, and the other on the far wing. Two other outlaws were at the fire. The Texan sniffed and smiled. They were making coffee.

"The two at the fiah make excellent tahgets," murmured Kid Wolf. "I'll leave them to yo', Red. Lefty, start now and ride toward the fah ridah. I'll try mah hand with these two. We'll count to fifty, Lefty; that'll give yo' time to get in range of yo' man. And then I'll give the coyote yell, and we'll start ouah little row. Don't kill unless necessary, but if they show fight, shoot fast."

Lefty grinned in the moonlight, roweled his horse lightly and drifted.

Red and the Texan waited--ten seconds--twenty--thirty--forty----

"_Yipee yip-yipee-ee!_" The coyote cry rose, mournful and lonely.

Then came a terrific rattle of gunfire, with the dull drum of horses'

hoofs as a ba.s.s accompaniment. Red spurred his horse toward the fire, shouting his battle cry and throwing down on the two startled men who leaped to their feet, reaching for their guns. Kid Wolf's great white charger burned the breeze at the two guards on the west wing.

"Throw up yo' hands!" The Kid invited.

But they didn't. Lead began to hum viciously. Bending low in their saddles, they drew and opened up a splattering fire. Their guns winked red flashes.

Lefty's man had shown fight, Lefty had bowled him over with a double trigger pull, and Lefty came racing back to help Red with the two rustlers at the camp fire.

There were fireworks, and plenty of them! The herd, mad with fear, started moving away--a frantic rush that became a wild stampede. Their plunging bodies milled about, and with uplifted tails and tossing horns, they were on the run northward toward the home range--the Diamond D!

Although it was a case of shoot or be killed now, The Kid was aiming to cripple. A leaden slug burned a flesh wound just below his left armpit, as he opened up on the two rustlers. His gun hammers stuttered down, throwing bullets on both sides of him, as he drove Blizzard between his two enemies at full tilt. One, raked with lead through both shoulders, thudded from his pony to the ground. The other leaned over his saddle and dropped his Colt. Two bullets, a few inches apart, had nipped his gun arm.

The two rustlers at the fire were giving trouble. They had dashed out of the dangerous firelight and had opened up on Lefty and Red. Kid Wolf's heart gave a little jump. Red was down! Lefty and one of the bandits were engaged in a hand-to-hand scuffle, for Warren's horse had been shot under him. The other outlaw had lifted his gun to finish Red, who was crawling along the ground. The range was a good fifty yards, but Kid Wolf fired three times. The rustler standing over Red dropped. Lefty broke away from his man, just as The Kid rode up with lariat swinging.