s into the atmospheah?"

The two outlaws experienced a sudden wilting of their gun arms. It was
quick death to attempt to draw while the round black eyes of this
stranger's twin Colts were on them.

With a jerk, both threw up their hands. One gave a shout--a cry meant
to warn his companions.

A shot from the direction of the herd told them, however, that the
other outlaws were already aware of something unusual.

The two bandits in the blankets jumped up, rubbing their eyes in
amazement. A kick from Kid Wolf's boot sent the .45 of one of them
flying. 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 minutes
by Tip, White, Caldwell, and Scotty, who were driving two prisoners
before them.

"Bueno!" said The Kid. "I see yo' got the job done without much
trouble. 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 past
Midway, the trail to Dodge was clear. But there was plenty of work to
do in the meantime.

An hour after sunup, the herd of fifteen hundred steers was moving
northward toward Midway. Kid Wolf and his four riders had them well
under control, and had it not been for a certain alertness in their
bearing, one would have thought it an ordinary cattle drive.

Kid Wolf was singing to the longhorns in a half-mocking, drawling
tenor, 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 brought
along. Already several miles had been traveled. And thus far the
party had seen no signs of Jack Hardy's rustler gang. They were not,
however, deceived. With every passing minute they were approaching
closer to Midway, the Hardy stronghold. And not only that, but the
outlaws were probably combing the country for them.

Reaching a place known as Stone Corral, they were especi