Kid Wolf of Texas

by Paul S. Powers

  CHAPTER IV

  SURPRISES

  At the prison door, Kid Wolf was met by a squad of ten soldiers. Itwas the firing squad. The Texan fell in step with them and was marchedaround the building to the bullet-scarred wall. Kid Wolf faced therising sun. Was he now seeing it for the last time?

  If he was afraid, he made no sign. His expression was unruffled andcalm. He was smiling a little, and his arms, as he folded them on hisbreast, did not tremble in the slightest.

  The officer who was to have charge of the execution had not yetappeared on the scene, and the soldiers waited with their rifle stockstrailing in the sand.

  Then there was a quick bustle. The officer sauntered around the cornerof the building, his bright uniform making a gay sight in the earlysun. He was a captain--the captain whom Kid Wolf had humiliated theafternoon before! The eyes of the Spanish officer, when they fell uponhis victim, widened with surprise which at once gave way to exultation.

  "Ah, it is my amigo--the senor of the two guns!" he cried.

  It was his day of revenge! The captain could not conceal his joy atthis chance to square things with his enemy for good and all. He didnot try to. His laugh was sneering and amused.

  "And to think it will be me--Captain Hermosillo--who will say the wordto fire!" He turned to his soldiers in high good humor and waved hissword. "At twenty paces," he ordered. "We shall soon see how bravelythe senor dies. Ready!"

  The rifle mechanisms clattered sharply.

  Then the captain turned to his victim, an insolent smile on his cruelfeatures. "Will the senor have his eyes bandaged? Blindfolded, yes?"

  Kid Wolf returned the smile. "Yes," he replied quietly. "Maybe yo'better blindfold me."

  Hermosillo laughed tauntingly and turned to wink at his men. "He isbrave, yes!" he mocked. "He cannot endure seeing the _carabinas_ aimedat his heart. He wants his eyes bandaged--the _muchos grandeAmericano_! Ah, the coward!" He spat contemptuously on the sand. "Hedoes not know how to face the guns. Well, we will humor him!"

  The captain whipped a silk handkerchief from his pocket and steppedforward. Kid Wolf's eyes were gleaming with icy-blue lights. This wasthe moment he had been waiting for! That handkerchief was a necessarycog in his carefully laid plans. Captain Hermosillo was soon to learnjust how cowardly this young Texan was. And the surprise was not goingto be pleasant.

  Kid Wolf's hole card was a big bowie knife--the same weapon that hadplayed such havoc at the Alamo. He carried it in a strange hidingplace--tucked into a leather sheath sewn to the inside of his shirtcollar, between his shoulder blades. That knife had rescued Kid Wolffrom many a tight situation, and he had practiced until he could drawit with all the speed of heat lightning.

  When the captain placed the handkerchief over his eyes, Kid Wolfreached back, as if pretending to assist him. Like a flash, hisfingers closed over the bone handle of the knife instead. Hermosillofound himself with the cold point of the gleaming bowie pressed againsthis throat!

  At the same time, Kid Wolf whirled his body about so that the officerwas between him and the firing squad. His left hand held the captainin a grip of steel; his right held the glittering blade againstHermosillo's Adam's apple!

  "Throw down yo' rifles and back away from 'em!" Kid Wolfe called to thesoldiers. "Pronto! Or I'll kill yo' captain!"

  Hermosillo gave an agonized yell of fear. In a voice of quakingterror, he ordered his men to do what Kid Wolf had commanded them. Hisbreath was coming in wheezing gasps.

  The firing squad, taken aback by this sudden development--for only afew seconds had passed since The Kid had drawn the knife--hesitated,and then obeyed. At best, they were none too quick-thinking, and theysaw that their leader was in a perilous plight. Their _carabinas_thudded to the sand.

  "_Bueno!_" laughed the Texan boyishly.

  He pushed the captain just far enough away for him to be in goodhitting range. Then he lashed out at him with his hard fist, catchingthe fear-crazed officer directly on the point of the jaw. Many poundsof lean muscle were behind the blow, and Hermosillo landed ten feetaway in a cloud of dust.

  The Texan lost no time in whirling on his feet and sprinting for thecorner of the building. He reached it just in time to bump intoanother officer, who was just then arriving on the scene. Kid Wolfsnatched the pistol from his belt and sent him up against the wall witha jar. Before the disarmed Spaniard knew what had happened, he wassitting on the ground, nursing a bruised jaw, and Kid Wolf was gone!

  The Texan found the streets deserted at that early hour. Racing acrossthe plaza, he raised his voice in a coyote yell:

  "Yip, yip, yipee-e-e!"

  It was answered by an eager whinny. It was Blizzard! The horse,waiting patiently in the vicinity, knew that signal. It came runningdown another street like a white snowstorm.

  Kid Wolf ran to meet the horse. A sharp rattle of rifle fire rang outbehind him. The soldiers had given chase! A bullet zipped the stoneflags under his feet; another smacked solidly into the corner of anadobe house.

  The alarm had been given. Two gayly uniformed officers ran into thestreet from the direction of the presidio. They were trying to headthe Texan off, attempting to get between him and his horse.

  But Blizzard was coming at too hot a pace. The two Spaniards cut injust as Kid Wolf leaped to the saddle. He fired the pistol's singlebarrel at one of the officers, and hurled the useless weapon into theother's face.

  "Come on, Blizzahd!" Kid Wolf sang out. "Let's go from heah!"

  The powerful animal's hoofs thundered against the flagstones, leaped astone wall, and charged down the street. Behind them, alreadyorganized, came the pursuit. To Kid Wolf's ears came the whine ofbullets.

  "From now on," he cried to his plunging horse, "it all depends onyo'-all! Burn that wind!"

  Once Blizzard had hit his stride, Kid Wolf knew that no horse in SantaFe could catch him. Striking off to the eastward in the direction ofthe Staked Plains, the Texan gave his animal free rein.

  The pursuit was dropping behind, a few yards at a time. Instead ofbuzzing around his ears now, the bullets were falling short, kicking upspurts of dust. The cries in angry Spanish grew fainter until theydied into a confused hubbub. Kid Wolf had left the town behind him andwas racing out over the level plain. Looking back, he could see ascore or more of brown clouds--dirt stirred by the horsemen who werenow almost lost from view. These dwindled. In an hour only half adozen riders remained on his trail. Blizzard was still going strong.

  Out on the great Llano Estacado, The Kid managed, by superiorhorsemanship, to give the balance of his pursuers the slip. When hehad succeeded in confusing them, he slowed his faithful mount down fora needed rest. And now where was the wagon train? Where was he tofind it? A chill raced down his spine. Had The Terror already struck?The thought of the women and children in the hapless outfit filled himwith a feeling akin to panic. He must find the wagon train. It mightnot yet be too late.

  Kid Wolf was a plainsman. He could locate water where none appeared toexist; he could discover game when older men failed; and he couldfollow a course on the limitless prairie as surely as a sailor couldnavigate the seas by means of his compass. By day or by night, he was"trailwise."

  Carefully Kid Wolf estimated the route the wagon train had been taking.Then he figured out the progress it had probably made since he had leftit. In this way he fixed a point in his mind--an imaginary dot that hemust reach if he meant to find the prairie schooners. If Modoc--theleader of the outfit--had kept to his original course, The Kid couldnot fail to meet them.

  Accordingly, Kid Wolf traveled all the rest of that day in a straightline, marking his course by the sun. He stopped only once at noon forwater and a short rest, going on again until dusk.

  At nightfall, he made camp and lay awake, looking at the starsoverhead. His thoughts were of The Terror and of his intended victims.Strangely enough, the face of Modoc came into his reflections, also.He could not dismiss him.
Was he really insane, or was it justobstinacy? If the latter, what had he meant by his strange expression:"What color will the moon be to-night?" Kid Wolf thought for a longtime and then gave it up.

  He did not fear any further pursuit by the Spanish soldiers. The trailhe had left behind was too puzzling; he had taken care of that.Besides, he knew that the average Spaniard feared the Apache and theother Indian tribes that infested portions of the Staked Plains. Ifthere were any danger during the night, Blizzard would give him warning.

  He was up with the dawn. At its first faint, pinkish glow, he was inthe saddle again. The day promised to be hot. The midsummer sun hadburned the grass to a crisp brown. By midday, mirages began to show inhollows. Heat flickered. Both horse and rider drank at a pool ofyellow-brown water and pressed on.

  Late in the afternoon, Kid Wolf made out a faint white line on the farhorizon. It was the wagon train! He sighed with relief. The Terror,then, had not yet raided it. For The Terror left only destruction inhis wake. Had he already plundered it, he would have burned the wagonsto the ground.

  Increasing his speed, Kid Wolf rapidly approached it. As he camenearer, he saw that the outfit was in the center of a field of alkaliand making slow and painful progress. He did not see the beef herd.Plainly, something had happened during his absence.

  Kid Wolf rode in, waving his hat. Would he get a bullet for his pains?He kept his eyes open as he drummed in over the alkali flat.

  Modoc and three others were at the head of the outfit. They recognizedhim at once. Modoc started to raise his rifle. One of the othersstruck the weapon down. Obviously the train commander had lost some ofhis influence. Another of the pathfinders shouted for Kid Wolf to comeon. A dozen of the travelers left their wagons and came forward. Thistime they seemed glad to see Kid Wolf.

  "Yuh was right, after all!" one of them cried. "Modoc led us out ofthe way. We're lost!"

  "I meant all right," Modoc grumbled. "I did my best--must have made amistake somewhere. I'll find the trail, never worry. And if yuh takemy advice, yuh'll drive this four-flusher away from here! He don'tmean us any good. What business is it of his?"

  Kid Wolf sternly pointed back to the wagons.

  "Those women and children theah," he snapped, "is mah business."

  "Shut up, Modoc!" ordered one of the men. "We trust this man, and webelieve he's our friend." He turned to the Texan. "Yuh can consideryoreself in command here now," he added.

  Modoc trembled with ungovernable anger, but, outnumbered as he was, hecould say nothing. Sulkily he returned to his own wagon.

  From the drivers, Kid Wolf learned a story of hardship and semistarvation. Indians had driven away their beef herd, leaving themwithout food. All day they had had nothing to eat, and were at thepoint of killing and devouring prairie dogs. The water, too, wasbad--so full of alkali as nearly to be undrinkable, and as bitter asgall.

  Kid Wolf lost no time in taking the situation in hand. His ownprovisions he turned over to the women and children of the outfit.Then he changed the course of the train so that it led towardcivilization. At nightfall they made camp by a pool of fair drinkingwater. The outfit told him that as yet they had seen no sign of TheTerror.

  "Probably we won't," said one.

  Kid Wolf was not so optimistic. That night he borrowed two .45 Coltrevolvers from the wagon-train supplies. He selected them with extremecare, testing them by shooting at marks. So accurate was his shootingthat the men of the outfit could not conceal their admiration. Thefirst weapon he tried threw the shots an inch or two to one side, buthe finally obtained a pair that worked perfectly. Then he sanded thewooden handles of the guns to roughen them slightly.

  "It nevah pays to have yo' hand slip when makin' a draw," he explained.

  The outfit's camp fire was shielded with canvas that night, at Kid'ssuggestion. On that wide plain a light showed for many miles, and itwas poor policy to advertise one's position.

  Tired as he was, Kid Wolf rose at midnight, after sleeping a few hours.He wanted to be sure that everything was well. Making a tour of thewagon train, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and sniffed. There wasno mistaking the delicious odor. It made Kid Wolf hungry. It wasfrying meat. The Texan quietly aroused some of the men and led them toone of the wagons.

  "I want yo'-all to see fo' yo'selves," he explained.

  The wagon was Modoc's own, and they entered it. The ex-wagon-traincommander had a shielded lantern burning inside, and he was in the actof eating a big supper! When he saw that he had visitors, he tried toreach the gun belt he had hung up at one end of the wagon. Kid Wolfwas too quick for him.

  "Yo' call yo'self a man!" he murmured in a voice filled with contempt."Why, a low-down coyote is a gentleman alongside of yo'. I wonderedwhy yo' looked so well fed, while the rest of the camp was starvin'.Men, search this wagon!"

  While Modoc swore, the search was made. It disclosed many pounds ofdried beef and other provisions. It was Modoc's little private supply.

  "We'll divide it up with everybody in the mohnin'," suggested theTexan, "with a double allowance fo' the children and the women."

  The wagon men were so furious at Modoc's selfishness that they couldhave torn him to pieces. Kid Wolf, however, prevented the trouble thatwas brewing.

  "Every one to their blankets, men," he said. "We can't affohd to fightamong ouahselves just now."

  When the camp was asleep again, he took up his lonely vigil. The nightwas pitch black, without moon or stars. A wind whispered softly acrossthe great Llano.

  Suddenly The Kid's attention was attracted by something on the westernhorizon. It seemed to be in the sky--a faint red glow, across whichshadows appeared to move like phantoms. Like a picture from the ghostworld, it flickered for a few minutes like heat lightning, thendisappeared, leaving the night as dark as before. It was a nightmirage, and something more than an optical illusion. It was a rarething on the plain. The Kid knew that it meant something. That glowwas the reflection in the sky of a camp fire! Those shadows were men!The Texan quickly told his sentinels.

  "I'm ridin' out to see what it is," he said. "Keep a close watch whileI'm gone. I'm on a little scoutin' pahty of mah own. It might be thatQuiroz has followed me--which I doubt. And it might be--The Terror!"

  Mounting Blizzard, he was quickly swallowed up in the darkness.