The Texan rode his horse over to the wagon and smiled at the youngster.
It was a boy of three, chubby-faced and brown-eyed.
"Hello, theah," Kid called. "What's yo' name?"
The baby returned the smile, obviously interested in this picturesque stranger.
"Name's Jimmy Lee," was the lisped answer. "I'm goin' to Santa Fe.
Where you goin'?"
Kid Wolf gulped. He could not reply. There was small chance that this little boy would ever reach Santa Fe, or anywhere else. Tears came to his eyes, and he wheeled Blizzard fiercely.
"Good-by!" came the small voice.
"Good-by, Jimmy Lee," choked the Texan.
When he looked back again at the wagon train, he could still see a small, golden head gleaming in the first prairie schooner.
"Blizzahd," muttered Kid Wolf, "we've just got to help those people, whethah they want it or not."
He pretended to head eastward, but when he was out of sight of the wagon train, he circled back and drummed west at a furious clip. The only thing he could do, he saw now, was to go to Santa Fe for help. With the obstinate traders headed directly across the Llano, they were sure to meet with trouble. If he could bring back a company of soldiers from that Mexican settlement, he might aid them in time. "If they won't let me help 'em at this end," he murmured, "I'll have to help 'em at the othah."