CHAPTER IX
THE NIGHT HERD
By the time the Hardy faction had given up the chase in disgust,Caldwell, White, and Scotty had joined Tip and the Texan some milesbelow Midway on the Chisholm Trail. The former three were jubilantover their unexpected release from the fire trap, but they agreed withthe Texan's first proposal.
"We've got mo' work to do, boys," he drawled. "If we wanted to, wecould give that gang the slip fo' good and make ouah get-away. Ithink, though, that yo' feel as I do. What do yo' say we rustle backthat herd o' longhorns that Hardy stole from Tip's dad?"
It meant running into danger again, and lots of it, but none of themhesitated. Kid Wolf had made his promise, and the others vowed to seehim through. It took them but a few moments to plan their recklessventure and get into action.
The Kid hated Hardy now, just as heartily as did Tip McCay. And evenif he had not given his word to the dying cattleman, he would not haveleft a stone unturned to bring the rustling saloon keeper to justice.More than once before, Kid Wolf had used the law of the Colt when othermeasures failed to punish. And now, even although handicapped andoutnumbered, he planned to strike. The stolen herd represented a smallfortune, and rightfully belonged to Tip McCay and his mother. Butwhere were the longhorns now?
Tip's suggestion was helpful. He thought the cattle could not be morethan a few miles below. They quickly decided to ride south, and Tipand The Kid led the way. The moon was up now, and it lighted the openprairie with a soft glow. The five riders pounded down the oldChisholm cattle road at a furious clip, eyes open for signs. PresentlyTip cried:
"We'll find 'em down there at Green Springs! I see a light! It's acamp fire!"
On the horizon they made out the feathery tops of trees against thesky, and riding closer, they could see a dark mass bunched up aroundthem--little dots straying out at the edges. It was the stolen McCayherd!
No general on the field of battle planned more carefully than theTexan. The party came closer, warily and making no noise. As they didso, they could hear the bawling of the cattle. Some were milling andrestless, and the cattleman could see four men on horses at differentpoints, attempting to keep the animals quiet and soothed. At the campfire, several hundred yards from the springs, were four other men. Twoof these seemed to be asleep in their blankets; the other pair weretalking and smoking.
"The odds," drawled Kid Wolf in a low tone, "are eight to five in theahfavah. Tip, yo' take the man on the no'th. Scotty, yores is thehombre on the west, ridin' the pinto. Caldwell, take the south man,and yo', White, do yo' best with the gent ovah east."
"How about those four by the fire?" whispered White.
"I'm takin' them myself." The Texan smiled. "We must all worktogethah. They won't know who we are at first, probably, and willthink we're moah of Hardy's men. Don't shoot unless yo' have to."
One of the two bearded ruffians by the camp fire clutched hiscompanion's sleeve. Two other men lay snoring on the other side of thecrackling embers, and one of them stirred slightly.
"Bill," he muttered, "didn't yuh hear somethin'?"
"I hear a lot o' cows bawlin'." The other grinned. "But what I wastryin' to say is this: If Jack Hardy splits reasonable with us, whywe----"
He was interrupted. Both men glanced up, to see a tall figuresauntering toward them into the ring of red firelight. Both stared,then reached for their guns.
"Sorry, gents," they were told in a soft and musical drawl, "but yo'rea little late. Will yo' kindly poke yo' hands into the atmospheah?"
The two outlaws experienced a sudden wilting of their gun arms. It wasquick death to attempt to draw while the round black eyes of thisstranger's twin Colts were on them.
With a jerk, both threw up their hands. One gave a shout--a cry meantto warn his companions.
A shot from the direction of the herd told them, however, that theother outlaws were already aware of something unusual.
The two bandits in the blankets jumped up, rubbing their eyes inamazement. A kick from Kid Wolf's boot sent the .45 of one of themflying. The other, prodded none too gently with a revolver barrel,decided to surrender without further ado.
Lining them up, The Kid disarmed them. He was joined in a few minutesby Tip, White, Caldwell, and Scotty, who were driving two prisonersbefore them.
"Bueno!" said The Kid. "I see yo' got the job done without muchtrouble. But wheah's the othah two?"
Scotty smiled grimly, spat in the direction of the fire and said simply:
"They showed fight."
In five minutes, the six outlaws were tied securely with lariat rope,in spite of their fervent and profane protests.
"Jack Hardy will get yuh fer this, blast yuh!" snarled one.
"Maybe," drawled The Kid sweetly, "he won't want us aftah he gets us."
They planned to have the cattle moving northward by dawn. Once pastMidway, the trail to Dodge was clear. But there was plenty of work todo in the meantime.
An hour after sunup, the herd of fifteen hundred steers was movingnorthward toward Midway. Kid Wolf and his four riders had them wellunder control, and had it not been for a certain alertness in theirbearing, one would have thought it an ordinary cattle drive.
Kid Wolf was singing to the longhorns in a half-mocking, drawlingtenor, as he rode slowly along:
"Oh, the desaht winds are blowin', on the Rio! And we'd like to be a-goin', back to Rio! But befo' we do, We've got to see this through, Like all good hombres do, from the Rio!"
The prisoners had been lashed securely to their horses and broughtalong. Already several miles had been traveled. And thus far theparty had seen no signs of Jack Hardy's rustler gang. They were not,however, deceived. With every passing minute they were approachingcloser to Midway, the Hardy stronghold. And not only that, but theoutlaws were probably combing the country for them.
Reaching a place known as Stone Corral, they were especially vigilant.The place was a natural trap. It had been built of roughly piled stoneand never entirely finished. Indians sometimes camped within theinclosure. It was, however, empty of life, and the adventurers wereabout to push on with the herd when the keen, roving eyes of Kid Wolfspotted something suspicious on the north horizon. He held his handaloft, signaling a stop.
"Heah they come, boys!" he cried. "We'll have to stand 'em off heah!"
They had been expecting it, and they were hardly surprised orunprepared. They were favored, too, in having such a place fordefense. Save for the low walls of the abandoned corral, there was nocover worth mentioning for miles. Among the cool-eyed five whoprepared to make their stand, there was not one who hadn't faced deathbefore and often. But never had the odds been more against them. Theyhad slipped through the toils before, but now they were tighteningagain.
Watching the riders as they grew larger against the sky, they couldcount two dozen of them. There was no use to hide. They could notconceal the cattle herd, and the Hardy gang would surely investigate.Already they were veering in their course, riding directly toward thestone corral.
"Aweel," muttered Scotty, lapsing into his Scotch dialect for themoment, "there isn't mooch doot about how this thing will end. But I'ma-theenkin' we'll make it a wee bit hot for 'em before they get us!"
"Right yuh are, Scotty," said Tip savagely. "I'm goin' to try and pickHardy out o' that gang o' killers, and if I do, I don't care much thenwhat happens."
The prisoners had been herded within the corral, and their feet werelashed together.
"Yuh'll soon be listenin' to bullets," Caldwell told them. "Yuh'dbetter pray that yore pals shoot straight and don't hit you by mistake."
The Hardy gang had seen them! They saw the riders check their horsesand then spread out in a cautious circle.
"Hardy ain't with 'em," sang out White, who had sharp eyes.
"They seem to be all there but him!" snapped Tip in disappointment."The coward's stayed behind!"
A bullet suddenly buzzed viciously over
the corral and kicked up ashower of clods behind it. And as if this first shot were signal, ashattering volley rang out from the oncoming riders. Bits of stone andbursts of sand flew up from the low stone breastworks.
"We got yuh this time!" one of the rustlers shouted. "We're givin' yuhone chance to come out o' there!"
"And we're givin' yuh all the chances yo' want," replied Kid Wolf, "tocome and get us!"
For answer, the horsemen--two dozen strong--charged! In a breath, theyhad struck and had been driven back. So quickly had it happened thatnobody remembered afterward just how it had been done. The Texan's twoColts grew hot and cooled again. Three riderless horses galloped aboutthe corral in circles, and the thing was over!
It had been sheer nerve and courage against odds, however. Three ofthe attackers fell from their horses before the stone walls had beengained, and three others had met with swift trouble inside. The resthad retreated hastily, leaving six dead and wounded behind. OnlyCaldwell had been hit, and his wound was a slight one in the shoulder.The defenders cheered lustily.
"Come on!" Tip shouted. "We're waitin'!"
Kid Wolf, however, was not deceived. The attacking party was made uplargely of half-breeds and Indians. The Texan knew their ways. Thatfirst charge had been only half-hearted. The next time, the outlawswould fight to a finish, angered as they were to a fever heat. Andalthough the defenders might account for a few more of the renegades,the end was inevitable. Kid Wolf did not lose his cool smile. He hadbeen in tight situations before, and had long ago resigned himself todying, when his time came, in action.
"Here they come again!" barked Scotty grimly. But suddenly a burst ofrifle fire rang out in the distance--a sharp, crackling volley. Two ofthe outlaw gang dropped. One horse screamed and fell heavily with itsrider.
The five defenders saw to their utter amazement that a large band ofhorsemen was riding in from the east at a hot gallop, guns spittingfire. As a rescue, it was timed perfectly. The rustlers had beenabout to charge the corral, and now they reined up in panic, undecidedwhat to do. Two others fell. And in the meantime, the newcomers,whoever they were, were circling so as to surround them on all sides.
"It's the law!" Kid Wolf smiled.
"The what?" Caldwell demanded. "Why, there ain't no law between herean'----"
But the Texan knew he was right. He had seen the sun glittering on thesilver badge that one of the strange riders wore.
The rustlers themselves were outnumbered now. The posse included ascore of men, and they handled their guns in a determined way. Theoutlaws fired a wild shot or two, then signified their surrender bythrowing up their hands. While the sullen renegades were beingsearched and disarmed, the leader of the posse came over to where theTexan and the others were watching.
"Who in blazes are you?" he shot out.
"That's the question I was goin' to ask yo', sheriff," returned The Kidpolitely.
"Humph! How d'ye know I'm a sheriff?" grunted the leader.
"Yo're wearin' yore stah in plain sight."
"Oh!" The officer grinned. "Well, I'm Sheriff Dawson, o' LimpinBuffalo County. I've brought my posse over two hundred miles to get myhands on one o' the worst gangs o' rustlers in the Injun Nations. Idon't know who you are, but the fact that yuh were fightin' 'em isenough fer me. I know yo're all right."
"Thanks, sheriff," said the Texan. "I'm leavin' Mr. Tip McCay heah totell yo' ouah story, if yo'll excuse me fo' a while."
"Where yuh goin', Kid?" demanded young McCay, astonished.
"To Midway," drawled the Texan, swinging himself into Blizzard'ssaddle. "Looks like a clean sweep has been made of the Hahdygang--except Hahdy himself. I reckon I'll ride in and get him, so's tomake the pahty complete."
"Hardy!" the officer ejaculated. "I want that _malo hombre_--andmighty bad, dead or alive!"
"Let us go along!" burst out Tip.
"No," laughed the Texan quietly. "Yo' boys have had enough dangah andexcitement fo' one day, not includin' yestahday. I'd rathah settlethis little business with Jack Hahdy alone. Yo' drive the cattle onand meet me latah."
And lifting his hand in farewell, The Kid touched his white chargerwith the spur. In a few minutes he was a tiny spot on the horizon,bound for the lair of Jack Hardy, the rustler king.
There was one thing, however, that Kid Wolf was not aware of, and thatwas a pair of beady black eyes watching him from behind a prairie-doghill! One of the renegade half-breeds had managed to slip away fromthe posse unseen. It was Tucumcari Pete, and in a draw a few yardsaway was his pony.