good a tahget in the moon. I'll have to crawl toward Boot Hill. It's
the only way out. In half an houah, yo' follow. Savvy?"

Dave nodded. Then The Kid added a few terse directions:

"I'll show yo' the way and meet yo' on the hill. Be as quiet and
careful as an Indian, and take yo' time. If anything should happen to
me, strike fo' yo' place on the San Simon. The reason I'm goin' first
is so that yo' can escape in the excitement if they spot me. Heah's
luck! I'll turn my hoss loose now."

They shook hands. Then, like a lithe moving shadow, the Texan crept
out into the night.

CHAPTER XXIV

PURSUIT

Fire flames darted occasionally from the high tulles, licking the
darkness like the tongues of venomous serpents. Rifles cracked, and
bullets, fired at random, buzzed across the sand flats. Kid Wolf had
an uncomfortable few minutes ahead of him.

Whenever the moon peeped out of its flying blanket of cloud, he was
forced to lie flat and motionless on the ground. Lead often spattered
uncomfortably close, but foot by foot he made his way toward Boot Hill.

This rise in ground, he believed, would be free from his enemies.
After once reaching this, Dave Robbins and he would be on the road to
safety. Blizzard, well trained, would follow him if he managed to
elude the bullets of the Garvey gang.

The Texan was on Boot Hill now, and for the first time in many minutes,
he breathed freely. The firing behind had become faint, and it was
hardly likely that any watchers remained on the hill.

But Kid Wolf received a thrill of horror and surprise. The moon
drifted free of its cloud curtain for a moment. He was standing not a
dozen feet from the two freshly made graves. One, with Bill Robbins'
headboard over it, was covered with a mound of earth.

Standing near the other, with a cocked revolver in his hand, was the
half-breed, Charley Hood! His cruel lips were parted in a terrible
smile as he slowly raised the weapon to a level with his eyes!

While Kid Wolf had been creeping toward Boot Hill, Dave Robbins was in
the adobe hut, counting the dragging minutes. The suspense, now that
the time for action was at hand, was nerve-racking. Would the Texan
make it? Robbins strained his ears for the triumphant yells that would
announce The Kid's death or capture.

As the seconds grew to minutes, he began to breathe easier. When it
seemed to him that a half hour had passed, he prepared to follow. The
moo