said the other earnestly. "Let's walk down the street
a way. I've something important to say--something that might interest
yuh."

The Kid had appraised him at a glance, although this stranger was far
from being an ordinary person either in face or dress. His garb was
severe and clerical. He wore a long black coat, black trousers neatly
tucked into boots, a white shirt, and a flowing dark tie. Yet he was
not of the gambler type. He seemed to be unarmed, for he had no gun
belt. His face, seen from the reflected lights of the saloon, was
clean-shaven. His eyes seemed set too close together, and the lips
were very thin.

"Very well, I'll listen," The Kid consented.

The two started to walk slowly down the board sidewalk.

"They call me 'Gentleman John,'" said the black-clothed stranger.
"Have yuh been in Skull long? Expect to stay hereabouts for a while?"

The Texan answered both these questions shortly but politely. He had
arrived that evening, he said, and he wasn't sure how long he would
remain in the vicinity.

"How would yuh like," tempted the man who had styled himself Gentleman
John, "to make a hundred dollars a day?"

"Honestly?" asked The Kid.

The man in black pursed his lips and spread out his palms significantly.

"Whoever heard of a gunman making that much honestly?" he laughed
coldly. "Maybe I should tell yuh somethin' about myself. They call me
the 'Cattle King of New Mexico.' The man yuh bucked in the poker
game--Blacksnake McCoy--is at the head of my--ah--outfit."

"Oh," said The Kid softly, "yo're that kind of a cattle king."

"Out here," Gentleman John leered, "the Colt is power. I've got
ranches, cattle. I've managed to do well. I need gunmen--men who can
shoot fast and obey orders. I can see that yo're a better man than
Blacksnake. I'm payin' him fifty a day. Take his job, and yuh'll get
a hundred."

Kid Wolf did not seem in the least enthusiastic, and the man in black
went on eagerly:

"Yuh won a couple o' thousand to-night, Kid. But that won't last
forever. Think what a hundred in gold a day means. And all yuh have
to do is ter----"

"Murdah!" snapped the Texan. "Yo've mistaken yo' man, sah. Mah answah
is 'no'! I'm not a hired killah, and the man who tries to hire me had
bettah beware. Why, yo're nothin' but a cheap cutthroat!"

The cold eyes of the other suddenly blazed. He made a quick motion
toward his waistcoat with his thin hand.

Kid Wolf laughed