Part 27 (1/2)
”Yo're surely not goin' to leave us so soon!” they all cried.
The Kid nodded.
”Mah work seems to be done heah,” he said, smiling. ”And I'm just naturally a rollin' stone, always rollin' toward new adventures. I'm sho' yo'-all are goin' to be very happy.”
”We owe it all to you!” Ma Thomas cried. ”All of our good fortune. I have the ranch and the cattle, and more wonderful than everything else--my boy, Harry!”
Kid Wolf looked embarra.s.sed. ”Please don't try and thank me,” he murmured. ”It's just mah job--to keep an eye out fo' those in need of help.”
”Won't yuh take a half interest in the S Bar, Kid?” Harry begged.
Kid Wolf shook his head.
”But, say,” blurted Harry. He leaned across the table to whisper:
”How about all that money in that poker game down in Mariposa? It's yores, not mine!”
”I did that,” said The Kid, as he whispered back, ”so yo' could buy Ma a little present. Don't forget! A nice one!”
”What did I ever--ever do to deserve this happiness?” Ma Thomas sighed, and she interrupted the furtive conversation of the two young men by placing a big dish of shortcake between them.
”By gettin' aftah me with a shotgun,” said Kid Wolf with a laugh.
CHAPTER XVI
A GAME OF POKER
A whitened human skull, fastened to a post by a rusty tenpenny nail, served as a signboard and notified the pa.s.sing traveler that he was about to enter the limits of Skull, New Mexico.
”Oh, we're ridin' 'way from Texas, and the Rio, Comin' to a town with a mighty scary name, Shall we turn and vamos p.r.o.nto for the Rio, Or show some hombres how to make a wild town tame?”
Kid Wolf, who appeared to be asking Blizzard the rather poetical question, eyed the gruesome monument with a half smile. Bullet holes marked it here and there, testifying that many a pa.s.ser-by with more marksmans.h.i.+p than respect had used it for a casual target. The empty sockets seemed to glare spitefully, and the shattered upper jaw grinned in mockery at the singer. It was as if the grisly relic had heard the song and laughed. Kid Wolf's smile flashed white against the copper of his face. Then his smile disappeared and his eyes, blue-gray, took on frosty little glints.
The Kid, after straightening out the troubled affairs of the Thomas family, was heading northwest again. It was the age-old wanderl.u.s.t that led him out of the Rio country once more.
”What do yo' say, Blizzahd?” he drawled.
His tones held just a trace of sarcasm. It was as if he had weighed the veiled threat in the town's sign and found it grimly humorous instead of sinister.
The big white horse threw up its shapely head in a gesture of impatience that was almost human.
”All right, Blizzahd,” approved its rider. ”Into Skull, New Mexico, we go!”
Kid Wolf had heard something of Skull's reputation, and although it was just accident that had turned him this way, he was filled with a mild curiosity. The Texan never made trouble, but he was hardly the man to avoid it if it crossed his path.
As he neared the town, he was rather surprised at its size. The budding cattle industry had boomed the surrounding country, and Skull had grown like a mushroom. Lights were twinkling in the twilight from a hundred windows, and as the newcomer pa.s.sed the scattered adobes at the edge of it, he could hear the _clip-clop_ of many horses, the sound of men's voices, and mingled strains of music. The little city was evidently very much alive.
There were two princ.i.p.al streets, cutting each other at right angles, each more than a hundred yards long and jammed with buildings of frame and sod. Kid Wolf read the signs on them as the horse trotted southward:
”Bar. Tony's Place. Saloon. General merchandise. Saddle shop. Bar.