again alive. Kid Wolf jerked the revolver from Blacksnake's side,
tripped him suddenly and sent him headlong into the room.

"Up with yo' hands!" the Texan sang out.

The outlaws were taken entirely by surprise. Only Blacksnake had known
what was coming, and he was unarmed. Kid Wolf was no longer reeling
and staggering. The desperadoes looked up to stare into the sinister
muzzle of a .45!

"Shoot him to pieces!" Blacksnake yelled, picking himself up on all
fours and whirling to make a jump for The Kid's ankles.

The Texan dodged to one side, his gun sweeping the room. A jet flame
darted from the barrel, and there was a crash of broken glass. He had
fired at the liquor flask that one of the outlaws still held at his
lips.

"That's a remindah," he said crisply. "Put up yo' hands!"

Guns blazed suddenly. Two of the bandits had reached for their weapons
at the same moment. The walls of the adobe shook under blended
explosions, and powder smoke drifted down like a curtain, turning the
figures of the men into drifting shadows.

The firing was soon over. The Kid's gun had roared a swift tattoo of
hammering shots. Dust flew from the wall near his head, but he had
spoiled the aim of both outlaws by fast, hair-trigger shooting. One
sank against a broken-down bunk in one corner, reamed through the upper
right arm and chest. The other fired again, but his gun hand was
dangling, and he missed by a foot. Playing cards were scattered, as
the other pair of bandits jumped up with their hands over their heads.

"We got enough!" they yelped. "Don't shoot!"

Kid Wolf lashed out at Blacksnake, who was rushing him again. The
short, powerful blow to the jaw sent the leader down for good. He
rolled over, stunned.

"_Bueno._" The Texan smiled. "Keep yo' hands right theah, please,
caballeros."

Before the powder fumes had cleared away, he had liberated Lefty and
Red with quick strokes of his bowie.

"I reckon we've got the uppah hand now, boys." He smiled. "Let's try
and keep it. Take their guns, Red."

The two Diamond D men had been as surprised as the outlaws had been.
They had watched the gun fight fearfully and hopefully, and it was an
enthusiastic pair that shook off their severed bonds to clap The Kid
across the back. There was no time for conversation now, however, and
they busied themselves with disarming their five prisoners and binding
them with rope.

"Gee, Kid!" Red whistled. "We thought we