lances. Things looked black indeed. They could not remain long in
the burning death trap, and outside was Hardy's gang, waiting in the
darkness to shoot them down if they ventured to escape.

"Steady, boys!" encouraged the Texan. "Theah may be a chance fo' us
yet."

But one of them--Blake--was overcome with terror. In spite of what the
others did to restrain him, he ran outside, tearing his way through the
barricade. His hands were raised wildly over his head in token of
surrender. But that made no difference to Hardy. There was a dull
spat, and Blake went sprawling, shot through the heart.

"I hope nobody else tries that," drawled The Kid. "When we go, let's
go togethah. By the light of this fiah they can see the colah of ouah
eyes. We haven't a chance in the world to escape that way."

"We can't stay here and burn to death!" groaned Terry White.

The heat and smoke were driving them out of the main room. Already
flames were creeping down the walls, and the air was as hot as the
breath of an oven. Their faces were blistered, their exposed hands
cooked. Tip's coat was afire, as all five of them made a dash for the
smaller room, taking the extra guns and ammunition with them.

This gave them a short respite. As yet the fire had not reached this
apartment, although it would not take long. The smoke was soon so
thick as nearly to be blinding. Stationing themselves at the
loopholes, they began to work havoc with their rifles and revolvers.
For the outlaws, bolder now, had ventured closer and made good targets
in the glare of the burning building.

Suddenly there was a tremendous crash. The roof over the main room had
come smashing in! Instantly the fire roared louder; tongues of it
began to lick through the walls. Wood popped, and the heat became
maddening. One side of the room became a mass of flames. The
imprisoned men began to wet their clothing with the little water that
was left.

"The stable!" ordered Kid Wolf. "Quick!"

The stable was built against the side of the store in the rear, and a
door of the smaller room opened into it. There they must make their
last stand.

The horses--and among them was Kid Wolf's white charger, Blizzard--were
trembling with fear. They seemed to know, as well as their masters,
that they were in terrible danger.

"We'll make ouah get-away with 'em, when the time comes," drawled the
Texan.

"Not a chance in the world, Kid!" Tip groaned.

"Just leave