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Updated: May 25, 2025
It led around steep side hills and high-banked washes in which nothing grew but tough, stunted clumps of thirsty paloverde. Near the tiny settlement, the trail climbed a long slope to swing around a cactus-cluttered mound which served as Lost Springs' Boot Hill.
By a miracle, they reached the bottom unhurt, and without losing a second, Kid Wolf headed his faithful mount into a thick paloverde clump. "We'll have to stand 'em off heah," he panted. The Texan's eyes surveyed his exhausted horse. They seemed to light with an idea. Even in that desperate plight, his mind worked rapidly. "I've got a hunch, Dave," he said. "It may not help us, but "
About both sides of the trail at this point grew great thickets of brush paloverde, the darker mesquites, and grotesque bunches of prickly pear. One of the bronchos suddenly reared backward. "Steady, yuh ornery " the driver began. He did not finish. There was a sharp twang! An arrow whistled out of the mesquites and buried itself in the side of the coach nearly to the feather!
The leader of this band of murderous Apaches was a youthful warrior named Bear Claw, the son of the tribal chief. Peering at the coach from his post behind a clump of paloverde, his cruel face was lighted by a grin of satisfaction. From time to time he gave a hoarse order, and at his bidding, his braves would creep up or fall back as the occasion demanded.
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