s yelled.

The Texan whirled just in time. A pace behind him was Yellow Skull,
his hideous face distorted with mad fury. In his thin hand was a long
leather thong, to which was attached a round stone. A second more, and
Kid Wolf's skull would have been smashed!

A burst of flame stopped him. The chief sagged, dropped. The Kid had
fired just as the stone was whirled aloft. The Indians, now that their
chief and white allies had fallen, retreated. The almost miraculous
appearance of the horse had dismayed them and filled them with
superstitious fear. A few more shots served to scatter them and send
them flying for cover. Kid Wolf vaulted into the saddle. Robbins was
already on Blizzard's back.

"Heads low!" sang out the Texan.

He headed the horse for the mesquites. Crashing through them, they
found themselves on the mesa plain once more. Kid Wolf urged Blizzard
to greater speed. Bullets buzzed around them, but it was evident that
the Apaches had lost heart. Blizzard pounded on, and the cries behind
soon grew fainter and fainter. Kid Wolf relaxed a little and grinned.

"That's what I'd call a narrow squeak," he chuckled. "How far to
Mexican Tanks?"

"On over the mesa," panted Robbins, "five or six miles."

"Then we'll make it," decided The Kid.

A quarter of an hour later, they drew rein and looked behind. Whether
the Indians feared to approach any nearer to the government post, or
whether they had given up through superstitious fear, would have been
hard to tell. At any rate, there was nothing to be seen of them.

Two miles below the two men could see the little post known as Mexican
Tanks, scattered out in a fertile, cottonwood-grown valley. With one
accord, they shook hands.

"Now will yo' believe me," asked the Texan, "when I tell yo' that
Blizzahd's a smaht hoss?"

Dave Robbins grinned. "So's his master," he chuckled. "And speakin'
o' Blizzard again, I guess we owe him some water and a peck of oats.
Reckon we'll find it down there." His face sobered. "It won't do me
any good, Kid, to thank yuh."

"Don't try," drawled The Kid. "I'm a soldier of misfohtune, and
excitement's mah business. I'll leave yo' down heah, son. Go to yo'
claim on the San Simon and make good--fo' yo' fathah's sake. And good
luck!"

"Yuh won't come along?"

Kid Wolf shook his head and smiled.

"I'm just a rollin' stone," he confessed, "and I just naturally roll
toward trouble. If yo' evah need me agai