e Texan decided to risk a
counter-charge. He knew that it might break down the courage of the
bandit band. At least it would be a surprise. He called for
volunteers.

"I want a dozen men who can shoot straight from the back of a runnin'
hoss," he said. "It'll be dangerous. Who's with me?"

Immediately more men than he wanted spoke up. Quickly choosing twelve,
he gave them their orders.

"At the next chahge," the Texan drawled, "we'll ride out theah and give
'em somethin' to think about. If I'm right, I think they'll scattah.
If I'm wrong--well, they'll probably wipe us out. Are yo' game?"

The men were game, as the Texan soon found out. They were fighting for
their families, as well as their own lives and possessions.

Again the attacking line of horsemen formed, and in a cloud of dust,
they came at the wagon train. Their bullets cut slashes in the
covered-wagon tops, smashed into wheels and wagon trees, and kicked up
geysers of sand. They would be hard to stop this time!

But Kid Wolf gave the word for his own charge. He had several reasons
for doing this. It amounted to folly in the eyes of some, but the
Texan knew the value of a countercharge. And if he could bring down
The Terror himself, he knew the battle was as good as won. Out of the
wagon circle they came, saddle leather creaking and guns blazing! The
Kid, on his snow-white charger, was in the lead. A lane opened in the
bandit ranks as if by magic.

Kid Wolf pressed his quick advantage. His movement had taken the
outlaw band by surprise. The utter recklessness of it shook their
nerve.

Two of the wagon men fell. The others kept on, clearing a swathe with
their sputtering Colts.

The bandits hesitated. The defenders who had remained behind the
wagons kept up their deadly barrage. They were dropping accurately
placed shots where they would be sure to do the most good. Then The
Terror's band retreated, broke formation. The retreat became a rout--a
mad get-away with every man for himself. Outnumbered as they were, the
defenders were making more than a good account of themselves.

Kid Wolf's eyes sought for The Terror himself--and found him. His red
coat and gay trappings were easy to locate, even in that mad stampede.
The bandit chief was attempting to make his get-away. The Texan,
however, cut him off after a hard, furious ride.

Separated from his men, The Terror turned in his saddle, wildly
attempting to get the drop on K