Kid Wolf of Texas by Paul S Powers

Author:Paul S Powers [Powers, Paul S]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-02-28T00:57:11.109000+00:00

Don Manuel Floristo's rancho was the largest in that part of Mexico. Several thousand steers roamed his range--steers that for the most part bore doubtful brands. Don Floristo's reputation was not of the best. His rancho was suspected of being a mere trading ground for stolen herds. Rustlers from both sides of the line made his land their objective.

Kid Wolf had found the S Bar cattle easily enough. The brands had been gone over, being burned to an 8 Bar J. The work had been done so recently, however, that he was not deceived. He had called on the don and told him that he was "interested in cattle," which was true. The don's lust for gold had done the rest. He supposed that Kid Wolf was an American who desired to go into the ranching business near the boundary. A good chance to get rid of the "hot" herd of six hundred!

"Just the size of herd the senor needs to start," Floristo had said. "Six hundred head at ten pesos--six thousand pesos. Ees it not cheap, amigo?"

"Very cheap," The Kid had told him. "Now if these cattle were delivered at Mariposa----"

"Easy to say, but no harder to do, senor," was the don's eager reply. "I will give orders now to have them driven there. Do you wish to buy a ranch, senor? Or have you bought? Perhaps I could help."

"Perhaps. But I want cattle right now. I have friends just no'th of the bordah."

The don had smiled cunningly. This fool gringo would have trouble with those stolen cattle if he drove them back into the States. That, however, was no concern of Floristo's.

"Come back to-night, senor," he had begged. And now The Kid was on his way to the don's hacienda. He had purposely timed his visit so that he would reach Floristo's rancho at a late hour. Already it was after midnight.

Blizzard was unusually full of spirit. The slow pace to which The Kid held him was hardly an outlet for his restless energy.

"Steady, boy," The Kid whispered. "We're savin' our strength--they'll be plenty of fast ridin' to do latah."

The Kid could not resist the temptation to break into song. His soft chant rose above the faint whisper of the desert wind:

"Oh, theah's jumpin' beans and six-guns south o' Rio,

And muy malo hombres by the dozen,

We're a-watchin' out fo' trouble south o' Rio,

And when it comes, some lead will be a-buzzin'."

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