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"I was just goin' to offah yo' a chance to come back to the S Bar," explained Kid Wolf. "These three caballeros have already signed the pay roll again." It was putting up the issue squarely, with no hedging. Both Stacy and Mullhall darkened with fury. "What's yore little game? I guess it's about time to put an extra spoke in yore wheel!" snarled Mullhall, coming forward.
Wise was the bow-legged one, and Lathum was freckled and tall. "Stacy hadn't better know about this," Lathum decided. "I was hopin' to get him back," said The Kid. "No chance. He's in with the major now," spoke up Wise. "So's Mullhall. Neither of 'em will listen and they'll make trouble when they find we're goin' back."
"Who in blazes are you?" sneered Stacy. "Just call me The Wolf!" The Kid barked. "I'm managin' the S Bar right now, and if yo' men don't want to be friends, I'll be right glad to have yo' fo' enemies!" Mullhall had pressed very close. It was as if the whole thing had been prearranged. His hands suddenly shot out and seized Kid Wolf's arms pinning them tightly. It was an old and deadly trick.
"By the way, can yo' tell me where I can find a Mistah Mullhall, a Mistah Anton, a Mistah Lathum, a Mistah Wise, and a Mistah Steve Stacy?" When the bartender could recover himself, he pointed out a table near the door. "Wise an' Lathum an' Anton is right there playin' monte," he said. "Stacy an' Mullhall was here this mornin', but I don't see 'em now."
The Kid did not fire any more, for he knew that he had been lucky indeed, to get one of them at such a distance. He bent all his efforts toward heading off the other. Already the S Bar hacienda was within sight. There was no time to lose! As The Kid pounded past he saw the face of the man who had been struck by the chance bullet. It was Mullhall. Stacy kept going.
"Well, there's Ed Mullhall, Dick Anton, Fred Wise, Frank Lathum, and the foreman Steve Stacy. But, tell me, who are you to do this for a stranger, a woman you've never seen before? I'm Mrs. Thomas." The Texan bowed courteously. "They call me Kid Wolf, ma'am," he replied. "Mah business is rightin' the wrongs of the weak and oppressed, when it's in mah power.
He whirled Mullhall about, his left boot went behind Mullhall's legs. With all his force he threw his weight against him, tearing his arms free. Mullhall went backward like a catapult, directly at Stacy. The gun exploded in the air, and as the slug buzzed into the roof, both Mullhall and the exforeman went down like bags of meal a tangled maze of legs and arms. "Get up," The Kid drawled.
I tell yuh I'm afraid!" His voice rose to a shriek. "There's murder on my soul, and there'll be more. Quick! Quick!" "Is there anything I can do?" The Kid asked, generous even to a fallen enemy such as Goliday. "Yes," Goliday groaned. "All my men aren't in town. I sent Steve Stacy and Ed Mullhall down to the S Bar a little while ago to do away with Mrs. Thomas. Stop 'em! Stop 'em!
"If yo'-all feel the same way as I do," Kid Wolf drawled as they filed out of the back room, "they won't have to make trouble. It'll be theah fo' 'em." As they approached the bar, Anton clutched The Kid's elbow. "There's Steve Stacy and Mullhall now," he warned in a low voice. Stacy and Mullhall were big men, heavily built.
I don't want to die with this on my soul. His words ended in a gurgling moan. His face twitched and then relaxed. He was dead. His dying words had thrilled Kid Wolf with horror. Steve Stacy and Ed Mullhall on their way to murder Ma Thomas! Perhaps they were at the S Bar already! Perhaps their terrible work was done! The Kid went white. But he wasted no time in wringing his hands.
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