was in a perilous plight. Their _carabinas_
thudded to the sand.

"_Bueno!_" laughed the Texan boyishly.

He pushed the captain just far enough away for him to be in good
hitting range. Then he lashed out at him with his hard fist, catching
the fear-crazed officer directly on the point of the jaw. Many pounds
of lean muscle were behind the blow, and Hermosillo landed ten feet
away in a cloud of dust.

The Texan lost no time in whirling on his feet and sprinting for the
corner of the building. He reached it just in time to bump into
another officer, who was just then arriving on the scene. Kid Wolf
snatched the pistol from his belt and sent him up against the wall with
a jar. Before the disarmed Spaniard knew what had happened, he was
sitting on the ground, nursing a bruised jaw, and Kid Wolf was gone!

The Texan found the streets deserted at that early hour. Racing across
the plaza, he raised his voice in a coyote yell:

"Yip, yip, yipee-e-e!"

It was answered by an eager whinny. It was Blizzard! The horse,
waiting patiently in the vicinity, knew that signal. It came running
down another street like a white snowstorm.

Kid Wolf ran to meet the horse. A sharp rattle of rifle fire rang out
behind him. The soldiers had given chase! A bullet zipped the stone
flags under his feet; another smacked solidly into the corner of an
adobe house.

The alarm had been given. Two gayly uniformed officers ran into the
street from the direction of the presidio. They were trying to head
the Texan off, attempting to get between him and his horse.

But Blizzard was coming at too hot a pace. The two Spaniards cut in
just as Kid Wolf leaped to the saddle. He fired the pistol's single
barrel at one of the officers, and hurled the useless weapon into the
other's face.

"Come on, Blizzahd!" Kid Wolf sang out. "Let's go from heah!"

The powerful animal's hoofs thundered against the flagstones, leaped a
stone wall, and charged down the street. Behind them, already
organized, came the pursuit. To Kid Wolf's ears came the whine of
bullets.

"From now on," he cried to his plunging horse, "it all depends on
yo'-all! Burn that wind!"

Once Blizzard had hit his stride, Kid Wolf knew that no horse in Santa
Fe could catch him. Striking off to the eastward in the direction of
the Staked Plains, the Texan gave his animal free rein.

The pursuit was dropping behind, a few yards at a time. Instead of
buzzing around hi