keg was dropped, one
spark would set it off. Overcome with panic, the ring of outlaws
melted into the night.

The Texan gave the signal, and Tip, Caldwell, Scotty, and White tore
out of the doorway on their frightened horses, heads low, scattering as
they came. Kid Wolf whistled sharply for Blizzard and pulled himself
effortlessly into the saddle as the big white horse went by at a mad
gallop. He tossed away the keg as he did so.

The Hardy faction began shooting then, but it was too late. Bullets
hummed over the heads of the escaping riders, but not one found its
mark.

Kid Wolf found himself riding alongside Tip McCay. The others had
taken different routes. The sounds of guns behind them were rapidly
growing fainter, and they were hidden by the pitch darkness. Kid Wolf
heard Tip laughing to himself--a rather high-pitched, nervous laugh.

"Are yo' all right, Tip?" sang out the Texan.

"Great! Yore plan worked to a T! But do yuh know what was in that
powder keg yuh used?"

"Yes, I knew all the time," chuckled The Kid. "It wasn't powdah at
all. It was lime. I found that out when I tried to load a Sharps
rifle from it. But just the same, Tip, the bluff worked!"

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 miles
below Midway on the Chisholm Trail. The former three were jubilant
over their unexpected release from the fire trap, but they agreed with
the Texan's first proposal.

"We've got mo' work to do, boys," he drawled. "If we wanted to, we
could give that gang the slip fo' good and make ouah get-away. I
think, though, that yo' feel as I do. What do yo' say we rustle back
that herd o' longhorns that Hardy stole from Tip's dad?"

It meant running into danger again, and lots of it, but none of them
hesitated. Kid Wolf had made his promise, and the others vowed to see
him through. It took them but a few moments to plan their reckless
venture and get into action.

The Kid hated Hardy now, just as heartily as did Tip McCay. And even
if he had not given his word to the dying cattleman, he would not have
left 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 other
measures failed to punish. And now, even although handicapped and
outnumbered, he planned to strike. The stolen herd represented a smal