Read Kid Wolf of Texas Page 23


  CHAPTER XXIII

  TWO OPEN GRAVES

  It was some time before the overturned stagecoach could be righted. Ittook longer to provide a team for it. When the bodies of theunfortunate white men had been loaded into the vehicle and the ponieslined out it was late in the afternoon.

  Kid Wolf had examined the contents of the express box and found that itcontained a small fortune in money. He decided to take charge of itand see that it reached proper hands. Twenty miles west of LostSprings, he learned, were an express-company station and agent. TheTexan planned to guard the money at Lost Springs overnight and thentake it on to the express post, located at Mexican Tanks.

  The two Robbinses, both father and son, were overcome with gratitudetoward the man who had saved them. They at once agreed to stay withKid Wolf.

  The posse members that the Texan had drafted at revolver point were notso willing. Although most of them were honest men, they fearedGarvey's gang and the consequences of their act. All of them suspectedthat Garvey had a hand in the plot to rob the stagecoach. Most of themmade excuses and rode away in different directions.

  "We beat the Apaches," explained one, "so I reckon I'll go back to theranch. Adios, and good luck!"

  Kid Wolf smiled. He knew that the men were leaving him for otherreasons. Perhaps a man with less courage would have avoided LostSprings, or even abandoned the money. The young Texan, however, wasnot to be swerved from what he believed to be the right.

  "Look out for Garvey, Kid," begged Dave Robbins. "He hates yuh forwhat yuh done."

  "I've heard of him," the elder Robbins added. "If helpin' us has gotyou into trouble, I'm sorry. He's a man without a heart."

  "Then some day," Kid Wolf said softly, "he's liable to find a bullet inthe spot wheah his heart ought to be. I don't regret comin' to yo'aid, not fo' a minute. And I guess Blizzahd and I are ready to seethis thing through to the end."

  Kid Wolf was riding on his white horse alongside the rumbling stage.The only member of the drafted posse who had stayed was driving thevehicle, and beside him on the box rode the two Robbinses, father andson.

  The road to Lost Springs was not the direct route the Indian messengerhad taken. It led around steep side hills and high-banked washes inwhich nothing grew but tough, stunted clumps of thirsty paloverde.Near the tiny settlement, the trail climbed a long slope to swingaround a cactus-cluttered mound which served as Lost Springs' BootHill. The stage trail cut the barren little graveyard in two, and onboth sides of it were headboards, some rotting with age, and othersquite new, marking the last resting places of men who had died withsmoke in their eyes.

  It was nearly sundown when Kid Wolf and the party with thebullet-riddled coach reached this point. They found a group ofhard-eyed men waiting for them. With Garvey were his five gunmen,mounted, armed to the teeth, and blocking the road! Kid Wolf caughtthe driver's eyes and nodded for him to go on. The stage rumbled up tothe spot where Garvey waited.

  "Stop!" the Lost Springs ruler snarled. "I reckon we want some wordswith yuh!"

  "Is it words yo' want," drawled the Texan, drawing up his snowy mount,"or bullets?"

  "That depends on you!" Garvey snapped. "We mean business. Hand overthat express money."

  "And the next thing?" the Texan asked softly.

  "Next thing, we got business with that man!" Garvey pointed to DaveRobbins' father.

  "With me?" Robbins demanded in astonishment.

  "The same. We want yuh to sign this paper, turnin' over yore claim inthe San Simon to me. Now both of yuh have heard!"

  "But why should yuh want my claim in San Simon?"

  "Yuh might as well know," Garvey sneered in reply, "there's silver onit. And I want it. Hand over that express box now and sign the paper.If yuh don't----"

  "And if we don't?" Kid Wolf asked mildly. His eyebrows had risen themerest trifle.

  "Here's the answer!" Garvey rasped. He pointed at two mounds offreshly disturbed earth a few feet from the road. "Read what's writtenover 'em, and take yore choice."

  Kid Wolf saw that two headboards had been erected near the shallowgraves. One of them had the following significant epitaph written onit in neatly printed Spanish:

  _Aqui llacen restos de Kid Wolf._

  This in English was translated: "Here lies in the grave, at rest, KidWolf."

  The other headboard was the same, except that the name "Bill Robbins"had been inserted.

  "Those graves will be filled," sneered Garvey, "unless yuh both comethrough. Now what's yore answer?"

  "Garvey," spoke up Kid Wolf, "I've known of othah white men who hiredthe Apaches to do their dirty work. They all came to a bad end. Andso, if yo' want my answah--take it!"

  Garvey's gang found themselves staring into the muzzles of two .45s!

  The draw had been magical, so swiftly had the Texan's hands snappeddown at his hips. Al Arnold, alone of the six riders, saw the movementin time even to think about drawing his own weapon. And perhaps itwould have been better if he had not seen, for his own gun pull wasslow and clumsy in comparison with Kid Wolf's. His right hand hadmoved but a few inches when the Texan's left-hand Colt spat a wickedtongue of flame.

  Before the thunder of the explosion could be heard, the leaden slugtore its way through Arnold's wrist. Before the puff of black powdersmoke had drifted away, Arnold's gun was thudding to the ground. Theothers dared not draw, as Kid Wolf's other six-gun still swept them.They knew that the Texan could not fail to get one or more of them, andthey hesitated. Garvey himself remained motionless, frozen in thesaddle. His lips trembled with rage.

  "I'm not a killah," Kid Wolf drawled. "I nevah take life unless it'sforced on me. If I did, I'd soon make Lost Springs a bettah place tolive in. Now turn yo' backs with yo' hands in the air--and ride! Thenext time I shoot, it's goin' to be on sight! Vamose! Pronto!"

  Muttering angrily under their breath, Garvey and his gunmen obeyed theorder. Yet Kid Wolf knew that the trouble had not been averted, butmerely postponed. He was not through with the Lost Springs bandit gang.

  The driver of the coach--the only member of the posse who had remainedloyal in the face of peril--was a man of courage. Johnson was hisname, and he offered his adobe house as a place of refuge for the night.

  "I'm thinkin' yuh'll be needin' it," he told the Texan. "We can stand'em off there, for a while, anyway. Garvey will have a hundred Mexesand Injuns with him before mornin'."

  Kid Wolf accepted, and the coach was deserted. They buried the bodiesof the men they had brought in the stage, not in the Lost Springsgraveyard, but in an arroyo near it. Then they removed the valuableexpress box and took it with them to the Johnson adobe.

  The house was a two-room affair, not more than a quarter of a mile fromthe Springs, and still closer to Boot Hill. On the side next to thewater hole, the grass and tulles grew nearly waist-high. On the otherthree sides, barren ground swept out as far as eye could reach.

  Kid Wolf placed the express box in the one living room of the hut. Asa great deal might depend upon having horses ready, Blizzard, alongwith two pinto ponies, was quartered in the other apartment. Thisredone, and with one of the four men standing watch at all times, theyprepared a hasty meal.

  "One thing we lack that we got to have," stated Johnson. "It's water.I'll take a bucket and go to the spring. I know the path through thetulles."

  They watched him proceed warily toward the water hole. The landscapewas peaceful. Not a moving thing could be seen. In a few moments,Johnson was swallowed up in the high grass. He reappeared again,carrying a brimming bucket. They could see the setting sun sparklingon the water as he swung along. Then suddenly a shot rang outsharply--the unmistakable crack of a Sharps .50-caliber rifle! Withouta cry, Johnson sank into the tulles, the bucket clattering beside him.He had been shot in the back!

  A cry of horror burst from the lips of the watchers in the adobe. Itwas all that Kid Wolf could do to hold back the excitable youngerRobbins, who wanted
to avenge their friend's death immediately.

  "No use fo' us to show ouahselves until we know how the cahds arestacked," the Texan said grimly. "Nevah mind, Dave. They'll pay fo'it!"

  It was hard to tell just how many of their enemies might be lurking inthe tulles or beyond them. They were soon to find that there were fartoo many. Gunfire began to blaze out in sharp, reechoing volleys.Bullets clipped the adobe shack, sending up spurts of gray dust.

  "Don't show yo'selves," Kid Wolf warned.

  His keen eyes lined out the sights of his own twin Colts, and he firedtwice, and then twice again. As far as the others could see, there wasnothing in view to shoot at; but agitated threshings about in thetulles showed them that at least some of his bullets had found humanlodging places.

  Garvey had evidently succeeded in adding men to his gang, for more thana dozen gun flashes burst out at once. The attackers soon learned,however, that it wasn't healthy to attempt to rush the adobe.Surrounding it was impossible, and for a while they contentedthemselves with sending lead humming through the small window on theexposed side of the hut.

  "We're in fo' a siege," Kid Wolf told the elder Robbins.

  "Maybe we'd better give in to 'em," said the other.

  Kid Wolf smiled and shook his head.

  "That wouldn't save us. They'd butchah us, anyway. Nevah yuh worry.Before they get us, they'll find that The Wolf, from Texas, has teeth!"

  "Then we'll play out the hand," agreed Robbins.

  "To the last cahd," Kid Wolf drawled. "I have two hands heah that canturn up twelve lead aces fo' a show-down. And I have anothah ace--asteel one, that's always in the deck."

  The Texan saw as well as the others how desperate the situation hadbecome. He knew that death would be the probable outcome for all ofthem.

  Kid Wolf, however, was not a type of man who gave up. If they must goout, he decided, they would go out fighting.

  The sun climbed the sky and disappeared over the distant blue range tothe west, leaving the desert behind bathed in warm reds and softpurples. Then the shadows deepened, and night fell.

  With it came a full moon, riding high out of the southeast--apumpkin-colored, gigantic Arizona moon that changed to shining silver.Its light illuminated the scene and turned the landscape nearly asbright as day. This was a fact in favor of the three men cornered inthe adobe. The attackers dared not show themselves in a rush. Allnight long their guns cracked, and they continued to do so when theeast was beginning to lighten with the dawn.

  Another day, and it proved to be one of torment. There was no water.Before the hour of noon, the three besieged men were suffering fromintense thirst. The little adobe was like an oven. The sun burneddown pitilessly, distorting the air with waves of heat, and drawingmocking mirages in the sky. Bullets still hummed and buzzed aboutthem. Every hissing slug seemed to whistle the mournful tune of"Death--death--death!" Late in the afternoon, the elder Robbins couldendure the torture no longer.

  "I'm goin' after water!" he cried.

  Neither his son nor Kid Wolf could reason with him. He would notlisten. He reasoned that although it was death to venture to thespring, it was also death to remain. He was nearly crazed with thirst.

  "Let me go, then," said the Texan.

  "No!" gasped Robbins. "Yuh stay with Dave. I'm old, anyway. Promiseyuh'll stick with him, no matter what happens to me!"

  "I promise," said The Kid, and the two men shook hands.

  Getting to the water hole and back again was a forlorn hope, butRobbins was past reasoning. Lurching through the door, he ran outsidethe hut and toward the tulles. Young Robbins cried after his father,and then covered his eyes.

  There was a sudden crackling of revolver fire. Spurts of bluish smokeblossomed out from the high grass--half a score of them! Bill Robbinsstaggered on his feet, reeled on a few steps, and then fell. His bodyhad been riddled.

  Kid Wolf's touch was tender as he took the orphaned youth's hand in hisown. But his voice, when he spoke, was like his eyes--hard as steel:

  "Garvey will join him, Dave, or we will! And if we do, let's hopewe'll meet it as bravely. I have a plan. If we escape, we must do itto-night. Can yo' stick it out till then?"

  Young Robbins nodded. The death of his father had been a great shockto him, but he did not flinch. In that desperate hour, Kid Wolf knewthat he no longer had a boy at his side, but a man!

  How the day wore its way through to a close was ever afterward amystery to them. Their throats were parched, and their eyes bloodshot.To make matters worse, their horses, too, were suffering. Blizzardnickered softly from time to time, but quieted when Kid Wolf called tohim through the wall.

  Night brought some relief. Again the moon rose upon the tragic scene,and it grew cooler. Before the twilight had quite faded, Kid Wolf andDave Robbins saw something that made them boil inwardly--the burial ofBill Robbins on Boot Hill!

  Out of revolver range, a group of the bandits was filling up the grave.Garvey had made half of his threat good. And he was biding his time tocomplete his boast. The Texan's grave still waited!

  A thin bank of clouds rolled up to obscure somewhat the light of themoon. This was what Kid Wolf had been waiting for. It was their onlychance.

  "I'm goin' to try and get through on foot," he whispered. "Befo' I go,I'll unloose Blizzahd. He's trained to follow, and he'll find melatah, if I make it. I don't dare ride him, because he's white and toogood a tahget in the moon. I'll have to crawl toward Boot Hill. It'sthe only way out. In half an houah, yo' follow. Savvy?"

  Dave nodded. Then The Kid added a few terse directions:

  "I'll show yo' the way and meet yo' on the hill. Be as quiet andcareful as an Indian, and take yo' time. If anything should happen tome, strike fo' yo' place on the San Simon. The reason I'm goin' firstis so that yo' can escape in the excitement if they spot me. Heah'sluck! I'll turn my hoss loose now."

  They shook hands. Then, like a lithe moving shadow, the Texan creptout into the night.