Part 34 (1/2)

”Don't shoot!” the Texan sang out. ”I've got him!”

The rope hummed through the air, spread out and tightened. The last of the outlaws went off his feet with a jerk.

”One of 'em's runnin' away!” yelled Lefty, pointing to the man Kid Wolf had shot through the arm. He was making a hot race in the direction of Skull.

”Let him go,” said The Kid. ”We don't want him. See how bad Red's hurt.”

Outlined against the eastern sky were three riders now, far away and becoming rapidly smaller. The two north riders were making their get-away, also. The victory was complete.

To their relief, Lefty and The Kid found that Red had received only a flesh wound above the knee.

Kid Wolf tied the man he had caught with his lariat, then caught Red's horse and one of the loose outlaw ponies for Lefty.

”Now yo' ought to be able to ease those Diamond D cattle on home,” he drawled. ”I'll see how yo' are makin' it in the mo'ning.”

”Why, where are yuh goin'?” Red asked in surprise.

”Goin' after Gentleman John.” Kid Wolf smiled. ”How far is it to his headquartahs at Agua Frio?”

”About nine miles straight west, over the mesa. But say, yuh'd better let one of us go with yuh.”

The Texan shook his head. ”I'm playin' a lone hand, Red. Yo' job is to line out yo' steers and get 'em back to the Diamond D feedin'

grounds. Adios, amigos!”

And Kid Wolf, on his fleet white horse, swung off to the westward.

Gentleman John sat up suddenly in his bed and opened his eyes. The moon had gone down, and all was pitch dark. It was nearly morning.

He had heard something--for Gentleman John was a light sleeper. He listened intently, then sat on the edge of his bed to draw on his boots. The sound came again from the direction of the patio. Had his man, Jose, forgotten to lock the gate? Surely he had heard the chain rattling! Some horse, no doubt, or possibly a mule, had strayed into the little courtyard. Perhaps it was some of his men returning. And yet hardly that, for they would not dare disturb him at such an hour, but would go to their quarters behind the house until daybreak.

Tiptoeing to the door, he put his ear to it. He heard faint noises, as if some one were moving about.

”Jose!” Gentleman John called angrily. ”What are yuh fumblin' at in there? What's the matter? _Me oye usted?_”

There was no reply, and Gentleman John went to one corner of his room, scratched a sulphur match, and with its sputtering flame he lighted a small lamp by his bedside. Then he slyly drew a derringer from under his pillow. Again he went to the door, putting his hand on the k.n.o.b.

”Jose! Come here!” he cried, with an oath.

The door swung open, and the lamplight shone on a human face--a face that was not Jose's, but a stern white one with glinting blue eyes!

”Jose can't come,” said a voice in a soft drawl. ”He's tied up. But if I will do as well, I am at yo' service, sah!”

The color fled from Gentleman John's amazed face.

”Kid Wolf!” he almost screamed, and at the words he whirled up his black and ugly double-barreled pistol!

_Span-ng-g-g-g! Br-r-rang!_ Both barrels of the derringer exploded in two quick roars. The leaden b.a.l.l.s, however, went wild. A steel hand had closed lightning-swift on Gentleman John's right wrist.

”Be careful,” the Texan mocked. ”Yo' almost put out the lamp.”