Part 33 (2/2)

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.

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