ellow was in a blue funk and would shoot at the least
pretext.

The saddle that the wrangler flung on the horse he had roped was a Texas
one with double cinches. In desperate haste to be gone, Champa released
the child a moment to tighten one of the bands.

A voice called to her. "Run, Kittie."

To the casual eye the child was all knobby legs and hair ribbons. She
scudded for the stable, sobbing as she ran.

At sound of that voice Mysterious Pete leaped to the saddle and whirled
his horse. He was too late. The man who had called to Kittie slammed shut
the gate of the corral and laughed tauntingly.

"Better 'light, Mr. Champa. That caballo you're on happens to be mine."

Pete needed no introduction. This slight, devil-may-care young fellow at
the gate was Clanton. He was here to fight. The only road of escape was
over his body.

The gunman slid from the saddle. His instinct for safety still served
him, for he came to the ground with the horse as a shield between him and
his foe. The nine-inch barrel of his revolver rested on the back of the
bronco as he blazed away. A chip flew from the cross-bar of the corral
gate.

Clanton took no chances. The first shot from his forty-four dropped the
cowpony. Pete backed away, firing as he moved. He flung bullet after
bullet at the figure behind the gate. In his panic he began to think that
his enemy bore a charmed life. Three times his lead struck the woodwork
of the gate.

The retreating man whirled and dropped, his weapon falling to the dust.
Clanton fired once more to make sure that his work was done, then moved
slowly forward, his eyes focused on the body. A thin wisp of smoke rose
from the revolver lying close to the still hand.

Mysterious Pete had died with his boots on after the manner of his kind.

Chapter XXI

Jim Receives and Declines an Offer

From the moment that Clanton walked out of the corral and left the dead
gunman lying in the dust his reputation was established. Up till that
time he had been on probation. Now he was a full-fledged killer. Nobody
any longer spoke of him by his last name, except those friends who still
hoped he might escape his destiny. "Go-Get-'em Jim" was his title at
large. Those on more familiar terms called him "Jimmie-Go-Get-'Em."

It was unfortunate for Clanton that the killing of Champa lifted him into
instant popularity. Mysterious Pete had been too free with his gun. The
community had been afraid of him. The irres