y Warren
wanted to know.

It did not take much of a search to find them. One had fallen near the
little corral, shot through the heart. The other lay a few hundred
yards away, at the river bank. He, too, was dead.

"Mo' murdah," snapped the Texan grimly. "Well, we must make ouah
plans."

In this sudden crisis, the other three left most of the planning to Kid
Wolf himself. First of all, the bodies were buried. Rocks were piled
on the hastily made graves to keep the coyotes out, and they were ready
to go again.

The Texan decided to follow the trails left by the stolen cattle, for
both herds were gone now, driven off the Diamond D range. Failing in
their attempt to get Joe Morton's signature, the outlaws had evidently
decided to take what they could get.

There was one big reason why Gentleman John wished to get his hands on
the Diamond D. Although land was plentiful in that early day, Red's
father had obtained a land grant from a Spanish governor--a grant that
still held good and kept other herds from the rich grazing land and
ample water along Blue-bottle Creek.

As they started down the trail again toward the broken, mountainous
country to the southwest, The Kid sent Red a quick glance.

"Are yo' all right, son?" he asked.

"Fine," said young Morton, now sole owner of the Diamond D.

The Texan was glad to see that he had braced himself. Like his
brother, Red was a man.

"We'll soon overtake 'em," old Mike Train muttered, savagely twirling
the cylinder of his ancient .45. "Blacksnake's gang can't make fast
time with those steers. He's probably drivin' 'em to Gentleman John's
headquarters at Agua Frio."

"Why," asked Kid Wolf slowly, "do they call that hombre 'Blacksnake'?"

"Because he carries one with him--that's how he got his name," spoke up
Lefty Warren. "He's a whipper. He's beaten more'n one Mex to death
with it, and they say a white man or two. He can handle a blacksnake
like a demon."

Kid Wolf smiled grimly. To have Blacksnake McCoy for an enemy was by
no means a pleasant thing to think about, especially when the desperado
was backed by all the power that his employer--Gentleman
John--possessed. And yet The Kid was afraid of neither of them.

"It's shore great of yuh to help us this way," Red told him. "But I'm
afraid we haven't a chance. If Gentleman John is behind all this,
we're buckin' mighty big odds."

"I like a game like that," said The Kid. "Unlike pokah, it's perf