Cay, and my son. And you?"

"Kid Wolf, sah, from Texas--just 'Kid' to my friends."

The five punchers, who had been listening with intense interest to the
Texan's story, came forward to shake hands. They were introduced as
Caldwell, Anderson, Blake, Terry White, and "Scotty." All were
keen-eyed, resolute men.

"Now I'll tell yuh what this is all about," said the elder McCay.
"When I spoke of a spy, I meant that Durham is there to see if he can
find out why Jack Hardy has imported those gunmen, and what he plans to
do. Yuh see, I'm a cattle buyer. At this halfway point I buy lots o'
herds from owners who don't wish to drive 'em through to Dodge. Then I
sell 'em there at a profit--when I can."

"And Jack Hahdy?" drawled the Texan.

"Hardy is nothin' more or less than a cattle rustler--a dealer in
stolen herds on a large scale. He's swore to get me, at the time when
it'll do him the most good. In other words, at the time when he can
get the most loot.

"So far," McCay went on, "there's been no bloodshed. To-day it seems
he's had Hodgson murdered. Looks as if things are about ripe for war!"

"He seems to have mo' men than yo'," murmured Kid Wolf.

"Yuh don't know the half of it. A dozen more of his hired gunmen rode
south on the Chisholm Trail this mornin'."

"What does that signify?"

"Plenty," McCay explained. "Six o' my men are drivin' fifteen hundred
steers up this way. Quite a haul, yuh see, for Hardy. They're due
here tonight. If they don't get here----" The big man's wide mouth
hardened.

"But I'm afraid I'm a poor host," he added apologetically. "Yuh'll
have supper and stay the night with us, I'm sure. Tip, you an' Scotty
go out and bring in The Kid's hoss."

The Texan consented, thanking him, and all began to make preparations
for the night. The big general store seemed more like a fort in time
of war than anything else. Some of the men slept on the counters in
the main room. A place was made for Kid Wolf in the rear. Sentries
were on watch during the entire night, which passed uneventfully.

In the morning, just as the dawn was glowing in the east, the Texan was
awakened by a horrified cry. All rushed to the front windows. Across
the wide street, over the Idle Hour Saloon, a man was dangling,
suspended from the roof by a rope! It was Durham--the man who had
given Kid Wolf the cigarette-paper note. Some one had seen him in the
act, and the fiends had lynched him.

"That s