Part 12 (2/2)

Hardy's gang had set fire to the store! Under cover of darkness, one of the slinking Indians had crept up and ignited a pile of oil-soaked rags against the logs of the building. The flames rose high, licking hungrily upward.

”Get water!” some one shouted.

A bucketful or two from their supply tossed accurately through a loophole by Kid Wolf extinguished the blaze before it could rise higher. It was a close call, and it showed them what to expect now.

The Indian's mistake had been in setting his fire where it could be reached by the defenders.

”We were pretty blamed lucky,” Caldwell began. ”If thet fire----”

”Not so lucky,” sang out the Texan. ”Look at _that_!”

From the direction of the saloon, a half dozen streaks of flame shot up into the sky like so many rockets. Fire whistled in the wind. The streaks were burning arrows, fired by Hardy's red-skinned cutthroats!

”That settles it!” groaned Tip resignedly. ”They're fallin' on the roof!”

It was a wonder Hardy's evil brain hadn't thought of it before.

Possibly some of his savage recruits had suggested it. At any rate, it was more to the rustler chief's purpose than smas.h.i.+ng in the door. It would soon be all over for the defenders now.

In a breath, the roof was afire. Little jets of smoke began to spurt down from the beams over their heads, and the flames were fanned into a roar by the wind. Desperately the little handful of fighters exchanged glances. Things looked black indeed. They could not remain long in the burning death trap, and outside was Hardy's gang, waiting in the darkness to shoot them down if they ventured to escape.

”Steady, boys!” encouraged the Texan. ”Theah may be a chance fo' us yet.”

But one of them--Blake--was overcome with terror. In spite of what the others did to restrain him, he ran outside, tearing his way through the barricade. His hands were raised wildly over his head in token of surrender. But that made no difference to Hardy. There was a dull spat, and Blake went sprawling, shot through the heart.

”I hope n.o.body else tries that,” drawled The Kid. ”When we go, let's go togethah. By the light of this fiah they can see the colah of ouah eyes. We haven't a chance in the world to escape that way.”

”We can't stay here and burn to death!” groaned Terry White.

The heat and smoke were driving them out of the main room. Already flames were creeping down the walls, and the air was as hot as the breath of an oven. Their faces were blistered, their exposed hands cooked. Tip's coat was afire, as all five of them made a dash for the smaller room, taking the extra guns and ammunition with them.

This gave them a short respite. As yet the fire had not reached this apartment, although it would not take long. The smoke was soon so thick as nearly to be blinding. Stationing themselves at the loopholes, they began to work havoc with their rifles and revolvers.

For the outlaws, bolder now, had ventured closer and made good targets in the glare of the burning building.

Suddenly there was a tremendous crash. The roof over the main room had come smas.h.i.+ng in! Instantly the fire roared louder; tongues of it began to lick through the walls. Wood popped, and the heat became maddening. One side of the room became a ma.s.s of flames. The imprisoned men began to wet their clothing with the little water that was left.

”The stable!” ordered Kid Wolf. ”Quick!”

The stable was built against the side of the store in the rear, and a door of the smaller room opened into it. There they must make their last stand.

The horses--and among them was Kid Wolf's white charger, Blizzard--were trembling with fear. They seemed to know, as well as their masters, that they were in terrible danger.

”We'll make ouah get-away with 'em, when the time comes,” drawled the Texan.

”Not a chance in the world, Kid!” Tip groaned.

”Just leave it to me,” was the quiet reply. ”We've got a slim chance, if mah idea works.”

Fanned by the wind, the flames soon were eating at the stable. And once caught, it burned like tinder. The horses screamed as the fire licked at them, and all was confusion. To make matters worse, bullets ripped through continually.

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