y
placing a big dish of shortcake between them.

"By gettin' aftah me with a shotgun," said Kid Wolf with a laugh.

CHAPTER XVI

A GAME OF POKER

A whitened human skull, fastened to a post by a rusty tenpenny nail,
served as a signboard and notified the passing traveler that he was
about to enter the limits of Skull, New Mexico.

"Oh, we're ridin' 'way from Texas, and the Rio,
Comin' to a town with a mighty scary name,
Shall we turn and vamos pronto for the Rio,
Or show some hombres how to make a wild town tame?"

Kid Wolf, who appeared to be asking Blizzard the rather poetical
question, eyed the gruesome monument with a half smile. Bullet holes
marked it here and there, testifying that many a passer-by with more
marksmanship than respect had used it for a casual target. The empty
sockets seemed to glare spitefully, and the shattered upper jaw grinned
in mockery at the singer. It was as if the grisly relic had heard the
song and laughed. Kid Wolf's smile flashed white against the copper of
his face. Then his smile disappeared and his eyes, blue-gray, took on
frosty little glints.

The Kid, after straightening out the troubled affairs of the Thomas
family, was heading northwest again. It was the age-old wanderlust
that led him out of the Rio country once more.

"What do yo' say, Blizzahd?" he drawled.

His tones held just a trace of sarcasm. It was as if he had weighed
the veiled threat in the town's sign and found it grimly humorous
instead of sinister.

The big white horse threw up its shapely head in a gesture of
impatience that was almost human.

"All right, Blizzahd," approved its rider. "Into Skull, New Mexico, we
go!"

Kid Wolf had heard something of Skull's reputation, and although it was
just accident that had turned him this way, he was filled with a mild
curiosity. The Texan never made trouble, but he was hardly the man to
avoid it if it crossed his path.

As he neared the town, he was rather surprised at its size. The
budding cattle industry had boomed the surrounding country, and Skull
had grown like a mushroom. Lights were twinkling in the twilight from
a hundred windows, and as the newcomer passed the scattered adobes at
the edge of it, he could hear the _clip-clop_ of many horses, the sound
of men's voices, and mingled strains of music. The little city was
evidently very much alive.

There were two principal streets, cutting each other at right angles,