ared the Apache and the
other Indian tribes that infested portions of the Staked Plains. If
there were any danger during the night, Blizzard would give him warning.

He was up with the dawn. At its first faint, pinkish glow, he was in
the saddle again. The day promised to be hot. The midsummer sun had
burned the grass to a crisp brown. By midday, mirages began to show in
hollows. Heat flickered. Both horse and rider drank at a pool of
yellow-brown water and pressed on.

Late in the afternoon, Kid Wolf made out a faint white line on the far
horizon. It was the wagon train! He sighed with relief. The Terror,
then, had not yet raided it. For The Terror left only destruction in
his wake. Had he already plundered it, he would have burned the wagons
to the ground.

Increasing his speed, Kid Wolf rapidly approached it. As he came
nearer, he saw that the outfit was in the center of a field of alkali
and making slow and painful progress. He did not see the beef herd.
Plainly, something had happened during his absence.

Kid Wolf rode in, waving his hat. Would he get a bullet for his pains?
He kept his eyes open as he drummed in over the alkali flat.

Modoc and three others were at the head of the outfit. They recognized
him at once. Modoc started to raise his rifle. One of the others
struck the weapon down. Obviously the train commander had lost some of
his influence. Another of the pathfinders shouted for Kid Wolf to come
on. A dozen of the travelers left their wagons and came forward. This
time they seemed glad to see Kid Wolf.

"Yuh was right, after all!" one of them cried. "Modoc led us out of
the way. We're lost!"

"I meant all right," Modoc grumbled. "I did my best--must have made a
mistake somewhere. I'll find the trail, never worry. And if yuh take
my advice, yuh'll drive this four-flusher away from here! He don't
mean us any good. What business is it of his?"

Kid Wolf sternly pointed back to the wagons.

"Those women and children theah," he snapped, "is mah business."

"Shut up, Modoc!" ordered one of the men. "We trust this man, and we
believe he's our friend." He turned to the Texan. "Yuh can consider
yoreself in command here now," he added.

Modoc trembled with ungovernable anger, but, outnumbered as he was, he
could say nothing. Sulkily he returned to his own wagon.

From the drivers, Kid Wolf learned a story of hardship and semi
starvation. Indians had driven away the