men are goin' to throw in
with yo', too!"

The men in the saloon stood aghast, open-mouthed. But they didn't
hesitate long. When the stranger spoke again, his words came like the
crack of a whip:

"Get yo' hosses!"

Garvey's heavy-jawed face went purple with fury. That this young
unknown dared to try such high-handed methods so boldly in Lost
Springs--which he ruled--maddened him! His big hand slid down toward
his hip with the rapidity of a lightning bolt.

There was a resounding crash--a burst of red flame. Garvey's hand
never closed over his gun butt. The stranger had drawn and fired so
quickly that nobody saw his arm move. And the reason that the amazed
Garvey did not touch the handle of his .44 was because there was no
handle there! The young newcomer's bullet had struck the butt of the
holstered gun and smashed it to bits.

Garvey stared at the handleless gun as if stupefied. Then his amazed
glance fell upon the stranger, who was smiling easily through the
flickering powder fumes.

"Who--who are yuh?" he stammered.

The stranger smiled. "Kid Wolf," he drawled, "from Texas, sah. My
friends simply say 'Kid,' but to my enemies I'm The Wolf!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE RESCUE

The stranger's crisp words had their effect, since "Kid Wolf" was a
name well known west of the Chisholm Trail. His reputation had been
passed by word of mouth along the border until there were few who had
not heard of his deeds. His very name seemed to fill the riffraff of
the barroom with courage. Some of them cheered, and all prepared to
obey the young Texan's orders. Every one was soon busy loading and
examining six-guns.

Garvey was the one exception. He was infuriated, and his malignant
eyes gleamed with hate. Kid Wolf had made an enemy. He was, however,
accustomed to that. Smiling ironically, he faced Garvey, who was
quivering all over with helpless rage.

"Yo' won't need to come along," he drawled. "I'd rathah have Apaches
in front of me than yo' behind me."

Kid Wolf lost no time in rounding up his hastily drafted posse. A
horse was procured for Robbins and The Kid prepared to ride by his
side. Kid Wolf's horse was "tied to the ground" outside, and a shout
of genuine admiration went up as the men caught sight of the
magnificent creature, beautiful with muscular grace. Swinging into his
California saddle, the Texan, with Robbins at his side and the posse,
numbering eleven men, swept down toward the