Kid Wolf of Texas

  CHAPTER XIII

  DESPERATE MEASURES

  Nightfall found the quartet established in the S Bar bunk house. Thejoyful thanks of Ma Thomas was enough reward for any of them. Shehadn't expected to see Kid Wolf again, she said, and to have him returnwith help was a wonderful surprise.

  She was a woman transformed and had taken new heart and courage. Thesupper she prepared for them, according to Kid Wolf, was the best hehad eaten since he had left Texas.

  All four of them were exceedingly hungry, and they made short work ofMa Thomas' enchiladas, crisp chicken _tacos_, peppers stuffed, and hermarvelous _menudo_--a Mexican soup.

  "With such eats as this," sighed The Kid, "I know the S Bar is saved."

  They were gathered now in the long, whitewashed adobe bunk house, andhad finished their sad task of burying Thomas, victim of an assassin'sbullet.

  The Kid obtained the bullet that had taken the old rancher's life. Itwas a .45 slug, and while the others believed it useless as evidence,The Kid carefully put it away in his pocket.

  "It's hard to say who done it," Fred Wise said doubtfully.

  "Yes," The Kid agreed. "I believe Ma Thomas was right when she saidthe hand of every one in San Felipe seemed to be raised against her.How much do yo' suppose the S Bar is wo'th, Anton?"

  "Well, with five good springs--two rock tanks and three gravel ones,she's a first-class layout. The pick of the country. I'd say twentythousand."

  "The robbers!" muttered Kid Wolf.

  "What's on the program?" asked Frank Lathum. "We can't do muchranchin' without cattle."

  "No," admitted The Kid. "We must get those cattle back."

  "But who ever heard o' gettin' cattle out o' Old Mexico after they'veonce been driven in?" Anton growled. "It can't be done!"

  "Money in cattle can't be hid like money in jewels or cash," said TheKid. "Theah not so easy to get rid of, even in Mexico. The town ofMariposa lies just over the bordah, am I right? And the only goodcattle lands for a hundred miles are just south of theah, isn't thatso?"

  "Yes, but----"

  "Men, this is a time fo' desperate measures. We must stake all on oneturn of the cards. Boldness might win. I want yo' hombres to be inMariposa the day _pasado_ manana."

  "The day after to-morrow!" Wise repeated. "What's yore plan, Kid?"

  "I don't know exactly," Kid Wolf admitted. "I make mah plans as I goalong. But I'm ridin' into Mexico to-morrow to see what I can see.I'll try to have the six hundred head of S Bar cattle in Mariposa thenext day, some way or anothah."

  Bold was the word! The quartet talked until a late hour. The threeriders had caught some of The Kid's own enthusiasm and courage.

  "Ma Thomas sure needs us now," said Anton.

  "Hasn't she any relatives?" Kid Wolf asked.

  "A son," muttered Wise in a tone of disgust. "Small good he is."

  "Where is he?"

  "Nobody knows," growled Lathum. "Somewhere in Mexico, I guess. He waspractically run out o' San Felipe. He's no _bueno_."

  Kid Wolf learned that the son--Harry Thomas--had nearly broken hisparents' hearts. He had become wild years before, and was now nothingmore or less than a gambler, suspected of being a cheat and a"short-card operator."

  "He was a tinhorn, all right," said Wise, "and fer the life of me Idon't know how a woman like Ma Thomas could have such a worthless rakefer a son. He was a queer-lookin' hombre--one brown eye and one blackeye."

  "Ma loves him, though. Yuh can tell thet," put in Lathum.

  "Oh, yes," pointed out Anton soberly. "Mothers always do. Greatthings, these mothers."

  He blew his nose violently on his red bandanna, and shortly afterwardwent to bed. Soon all four were in the bunks, resting for the hardwork that awaited them on the morrow--manana--and many days aftermanana.

  Kid Wolf was up very early the next morning, and saddled Blizzard aftera hasty breakfast. He had much to do.

  The three S Bar men went part way with him--to a point beyond the southcorral. It was here that Mrs. Thomas had found the body of hermurdered husband. There seemed to be no clew as to who had performedthe deliberate killing. Before The Kid left, however, he did a littlescouting around. In the sand behind a mesquite, fifty yards from thespot where the body had been found, he discovered significant marks.

  "Come ovah heah, yo' men," he sang out.

  Distinct in the sand were the prints made by a pair of low-heeled,square-toed boots.

  "Well," Anton grunted.

  "Know those mahks?"

  All shook their heads. They had certainly been made by an unusual pairof boots. In a country where high-heeled riding footgear was thething, such boots as these were seldom seen. All three admitted thatthey had seen such boots somewhere, but, although they racked theirbrains, they were unable to say just who had worn them.

  "Well, take a good look at them," drawled The Kid. "I want yo' to bewitnesses to the find. Some day this info'mation might be of use. Inthe meantime, adios, boys!"

  "Good luck!" they shouted after him. "We'll be on hand at Mariposamanana morning."

  Kid Wolf hit the trail for Mexico at a hammer-and-tongs gallop.

  The Mexican town of Mariposa was scattered over ten blazing acres ofsand just south of the Rio Grande. It was an older city than SanFelipe, and its buildings were more elaborate.

  One in particular, just off the Plaza, attracted the eye of Spanishranchman and peon alike. It was the meeting place of the thirsty--thefamed El Chihuahense, a saloon and gambling house known from El Paso toCalifornia.

  Built of brown adobe originally, it had been painted a bright red. Thecarved stone with which it was trimmed shone in white contrast to thevivid walls. An archway was the entrance to the establishment and manya bullet hole within its shadow testified to the dark deeds that hadhappened there.

  Now, as on every night, the place was ablaze with light. Big oil lampsby the score, backed by polished reflectors, illumined the interior.From within came the strains of guitars and the gay scrapings of afiddle, mingled with the hum of Spanish voices, an occasional oath inEnglish, and the rattle of chips and coins.

  At the hitch rack outside the saloon stood a big white horse--waiting.

  Kid Wolf was playing poker in the El Chihuahense, and he had been at itfor two solid hours. Those who knew The Kid better would have wonderedat this. Ordinarily, Kid Wolf was not a gamester. He played cardsrarely, never for any personal gain, and only when there seemed to be agood reason for so doing. But the Texan knew the game.

  A trio of Mexican landowners who thought they were skilled at it hadquickly found out their error--and withdrew, more or less gracefully.Now a crowd of swarthy-faced men, numbering more than a score, weremassed around the draw-poker table near the door. They were watchingthe masterful play of this slow-drawling hombre--this gringo strangerwho had been seen about Mariposa all day, and who now was "buckingheads" with a lone antagonist.

  Kid Wolf's opponent was also an American, but one well known to theMariposans. A stack of gold coins was piled in front of him, and heriffled the cards as he dealt in the manner of a professional. Thisman was young, also. He wore a green eye shade, and a diamondglittered in his fancy shirt. He was a gambler.

  The game seesawed for a time. First Kid Wolf would make a smallwinning, and then the man with the green eye shade. Most of the bets,however, were so heavy as to make the Mexicans about the table gaspwith envy.

  But the crisis was coming. The deal passed from the gambler to The Kidand back to the gambler again. The pot was already swollen from theantes. The Kid opened.

  "I'm stayin'," said the gambler crisply. He pushed in a small pile ofgold. "How many cards?"

  "Two," murmured The Kid.

  The gambler took one. The chances were, then, that he had two pairs,or was drawing to make a flush or a straight.

  Carefully the two men looked at their cards. Not a muscle of theirfaces twitched. The gambler's face was frozen--as expressionl
ess as anIndian's. Kid Wolf was his easy self. His usual smile was very muchin evidence, unchanged. He made a bet--a large one, and the gamblercalled and raised heavily. The Kid boosted it again. Then there was asilence, broken only by the tense breathing of the onlookers, who hadpushed even closer about the table.

  "Five hundred more," said the gambler after a nerve-racking pause.

  "And five," The Kid drawled softly, pushing most of his gold into thecenter of the table.

  The gambler's hand shook the merest trifle. Again he looked at thepasteboards in his pale hands. Then he quickly pushed every cent hehad into the pot.

  "I'm seeing it, and I'm elevatin' it every coin on me. It'll costyuh--let's see--eight hundred and sixty more!"

  It was more than the Texan had--by four hundred dollars. He could,however, stay for his stack. The man in the green eye shade could takeout four hundred to even the bet. The Kid, though, did not do this.

  "I'll just write an I O U fo' the balance," he drawled.

  "But supposin' yore I O U ain't good?"

  "Then this is good," said Kid Wolf.

  The gambler stared. The Texan had placed a .45 on the table near hisright hand. And it had been done so quickly that the onlookersexchanged glances. Who was this hombre?

  "All right," growled the man in the green eye shade.

  Kid Wolf wrote something with a pencil stub on a bit of paper. Whenfinished, he tossed it to the center of the gold pile, carefully folded.

  "That calls yo'," he said coolly. "What have yo'?"

  Nervously, the gambler spread his hand face up on the table. His handswere shaking more than ever.

  "A king full," he jerked out, wetting his lips.

  Three kings and a pair of tens--a very good layout in a two-handed gamewith a huge pot at stake!

  "Beats me," said The Kid. "I congratulate yo'."

  With a sigh of relief, the gambler began to pull the winnings towardhim.

  "Better look at the I O U," The Kid drawled, "and see that it's allright and proper." As he spoke, he tossed his cards carelessly towardthe gambler, face down.

  The youth in the green eye shade unfolded the paper and looked at thewriting within. His eyes widened a little and he looked again,blinking. Slowly the following words swam into his consciousness:

  Son, you can't gamble worth a cent, but rake in the money and follow mein five minutes. I'll meet you back of the saloon. I'm your friend,Harry Thomas, and your mother's happiness is at stake.

  The gambler's face went a bit paler. Only his poker face kept theastonishment out of his eyes. Slowly and furtively he looked at thecards Kid Wolf had tossed away so carelessly. The Texan had held fouraces!