Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) (38 page)

 
          
Before
Larry could reply, the man with the ginger moustache
interposed
:
“S’cuse me, stranger, do yu happen to be acquainted with Joe Tarman?’

 
          
“I
happen to belong to his outfit, the Crossed Dumb-bell,’ the puncher replied,
telling the literal truth, for he had not yet been fired
nor
had he officially resigned. The effect of the information on the latter pushed
the bottle forward, saying genially: “They’re on the house, gents. This is Mr.
Scaife, who owns this joint.’

 
          
He
waved a hand at the gingery individual, and the puncher completed the ceremony
of introduction by giving their names.

 
          
“Pleased
to welcome anyone from Joe here,’ said Scaife oilily. “Why, another of his men
rode out this evening; perhaps yu saw him?’

 
          
“No,
I didn’t look—reckoned he’d be gone before we made it,’ Green explained. “Guess
Stiffy got into a little game, as usual.’

 
          
“Yo’re
dead right—that’s just what he did,’ laughed Scaife. “He’ll have to ride all
night to make up time, or Joe’ll trim him to rights.’

 
          
The
cowpuncher’s ready answer and his fortunate knowledge of the rustler’s little
weakness had entirely dispelled all suspicion, and it did not take long to find
out that the rustler chief had quite a number of friends in Big Rock, and that
if he was not loved, he was certainly feared. The squint-eyed, weedy man who
had watched their movements earlier now came in, to be hailed and presented as
“Roddy’ to “Mr. Tarman’s friends.’ He became a genial creature.

 
          
“An’
how’s Joe makin’ it in Hatchett’s?’ he inquired. “Reckon he finds it middlin’
quiet.’

 
          
Green’s
own opinion was that Mr. Tarman had hitherto found it anything but quiet, but
what he said was that Tarman appeared to like the place and was even thinking
of buying a ranch and settling down. The statement evolved a perfect gust of
merriment from his listeners, which was only quelled by a well-simulated look
of cold indignation on the part of Green.

 
          
“Yu
doubtin’ my word?’ he asked.

 
          
“Nary
a doubt, friend,’ gasped Scaife. “Yu just gotta excuse me an’ Rod an’ Spike
here, but it warn’t fair to turn a hell of a joke like that on us without
warnin’, now was it?’

 
          
“Well,
I expect I’m slow, but I don’t see no joke,’ Green replied, and the risible
faculties of the three men once more disrupted their features. It was Spike
who, with tears coursing down his none too
clean
cheeks, managed to explain:

 
          
“Yu
said Joe was thinkin’ of buyin’ a ranch,’ he spluttered.

 
          
“Ha, ha!
so
I did,’ grinned Green.
“Well, the laugh is on
me,
an’ the drinks likewise.
Set ‘em up, Spike, old settler.’

 
          
A
little game of draw was proposed, and the visitor lost a few dollars very
pleasantly to Scaife and Rod, but mellow as those two gentlemen undoubtedly
became, Green could learn nothing as to the activities and interests of Tarman
in Big Rock.

 
          
“Touchin’
them
beds,’ Larry remarked, round about midnight.

 
          
“Which
I’m free to admit I want to be touchin’ one of ‘em; we been ridin’ all day,’
returned his friend.

 
          
The
saloon-keeper, being ahead of the game, had no objections to offer. “Beds
goes
,’ he said. “Yu push yore broncs into the corral an’
fetch yore saddles along.’

 
          
Their
bedroom was on the first floor at the back, a fact for which they had cause to
be thankful later on. It was Larry who, awakened in the early hours of the
morning by a pounding at the rear door of the hotel, got up to investigate.
Cautiously opening their window he peered down. He heard the landlord descend
the stairs and unbolt the door, and then, “Hell, Stiffy, what’s brung yu back
again?’

 
          
“Blasted
bronc stepped in a hole an’ bruk a leg—had to shoot him an’ hoof it here
carryin’ this cussed saddle,’ was the disgusted answer. “Got a drink? I’m about
all in.’

 
          
“Shore.
Tough luck about the hoss,’ replied the host. “Yu
better hole up till daylight, an’ then yu can have company; I got two o’ yore
chaps here.’

 
          
They
disappeared into the building and Larry heard no more. But he had already got
an “earful,’ as he phrased it, and without delay he aroused his companion.

 
          
“Yu
gotta stop sawin’ wood an’ get a wiggle on,’ he whispered, and told what he had
so luckily overheard. “Now, friend

 
          
Stiffy
is probably puttin’ friend Scaife wise at this very moment of time. Do yu guess
he knows that yu are Sudden?’

 
          
“He’s
liable to find out if he comes foolin’ around,’ smiled Green.

 
          
“Don’t
be sixteen sorts of a damn fool,’ retorted Larry. “Yu ain’t aimin’ to stay an’
fight it out, are yu?
Chances is
, he does know it, an’
do yu reckon this town’ll let ten thousand bucks get away from it? What we
gotta consider is when will they make a move?’

 
          
“Not
till the mornin’ an’ we’ll move first,’ Green said. “Stiffy is feelin’ right
like his name just now, an’ bed will listen good to him., They’re a-comin’ up
now, snore for all yo’re worth—no, for lots more than that.’

 
          
They
heard stealthy footsteps pause outside their door and then a low chuckle came
from the landlord.

 
          
“Yu’d
think they’d wake each other up, wouldn’t yu?’ he said. “Needn’t worry ‘bout
them—they’ll be here when we want ‘em in the mornin’.’

 
          
After
a wait of half an hour, by which time the house was quiet again, Green pushed
up the window, slid through, and hanging from the sill by his hands, dropped
noiselessly to the ground. Larry then lowered their saddles and followed.
Stepping warily, to avoid the litter of tin cans and other refuse which might
betray them, they made their way to the corral. The horses gave them little trouble,
for they were well trained, and accustomed to come at a call. Once clear of the
town they headed for Hatchett’s at a steady lope, congratulating
themselves
upon having evaded an awkward predicament.

 
          
“O’
course they’ll follow us, but we gotta good start an’ if we switch off the
trail presently an’ take to the brush, I reckon we can fool ‘em,’ Green
remarked.

 
          
They
did this, choosing a spot where a rocky defile offered a surface upon which
hoofs would make little or no impression, and supplemented this by riding for
half a mile along the bed of the first stream they came to.

 
          
“Guess
that oughtta
make
it safe,’ Larry said, as they
plunged again into the undergrowth and emerged upon an open, rolling stretch of
deep grass.

 
          
Their
start, however, was not so good as they deemed it to be, for they had
under-estimated the cupidity and ambition of Mr. Scaife. The knowledge that he
had under his humble roof a famous outlaw—for Stiffy had blurted out the news,
having learned it himself in Hatchett’s, where it was now common property—had
spoilt the landlord’s rest, and less than an hour after his guests had
departed, he had snolen down to make sure they were still there. Unable to hear
any reassuring sounds, he had opened the lockless door to find the nest empty.
Where upon, at the thought of the rewards which had gone a-glimmering, he
lifted up his voice and—swore.

 
          
“They
can’t ‘a’ got far; rustle up two-three other fellers an’ we’ll git ‘em yet,’
suggested Stuffy, when he heard the dire tidings. Thus it came about that when
the fugitives, leisurely crossing a little plateau, looked
back,
they saw five moving dots descending a ridge some seven or eight miles away.
Spurring their mounts, they hastened to get out of sight, but they did not
doubt but that they had been seen, for the pursuers would naturally be on the
watch.

 
          
“We’re
a couple of boneheads—mighta knowed that landlord feller wouldn’t rest easy,’
Green growled. “There’s only five of ‘em, anyways.’

 
          
“Mebbe
there’s more back o’ them.’

 
          
“Reckon
not—they wouldn’t wanta split the reward too much. We’ll have to stand ‘em off;
can’t have ‘em trailin’ us all the time.’

 
          
They
pushed on at a fast clip until they came to the spot they were looking for, a
long, narrow gorge with precipitous sides which only a cat could hope to scale,
and with little in the way of vegetation to serve as cover. Boulders and rock
debris littered the sandy bed of the gorge, which had at one time been a
watercourse.

 
          
“Hope
she ain’t a blind one,’ Larry remarked, with a glance at the beetling cliffs on
either side. “If she is, we’ll be wantin’ wings.’

 
          
“An’
we may get ‘em too, if them hombres can shoot,’ returned his friend grimly.

 
          
“Mother’s
cheery little helper, ain’t yu? Allus lookin’ on the bright side,’ grinned
Larry.

 
          
They
rode far enough along the gorge to make the task of going round to cut them off
a long one, and then, turning a sudden bend, simultaneously pulled down their
mounts.

 
          
“There
she is—the very place,’ cried Larry, pointing to a clump of boulders among
which a few snunted bushes were growing, about a hundred yards away. A brief
examination satisfied them, and tying the horses behind an outflung shoulder of
the cliff, they squatted down to await the pursuers.

 
          
“If
they come a-battin’ round than bend we can get a couple of ‘em ‘fore they know
we’re here,’ Larry said complacently. “It’ll be like money from home.’

 
          
“Yo’re
a gory-minded sport, ain’t yu?’ Green retorted. “No, seh; they get their
warnin’; I ain’t no sneakin’ bushwhacker.’

 
          
“Yu
are thirty-two sorts of a darn fool,’ Larry said heatedly. “There’s five of
‘em, ain’t there? Fine lot o’ warnin’ they’d ‘a’ give us if we’d waited in Big
Rock.’

 
          
We’ll
drop a couple o’ hosses, though I hate doin’ it, an’ if they want to argue
after that, we’ll shore accommodate ‘em.’

 
          
“An’
he’s got the reputation of bein’ a cold-blooded killer,’ was Larry’s unspoken
thought.

 
          
They
sat there waiting, each ensconced behind a serviceable chunk of rock, with
rifle ready. It was cool in the gorge now, but the sun was climbing the sky and
once it became vertical, they knew they would have a grilling time. They had
filled their canteens at the last stream, and had been careful to place them
out of reach of questing oullets; if the fight were prolonged, thirst would
become an important factor.

 
          
“They’re
a long time gettin’ here—must be comin’ dead slow,’ Larry said impatiently.

 
          
Hardly
had the words left his lips when there came the rapid beat of hoofs, somewhat
dulled by the sand, and in a few moments the bunched riders dashed round the
bend, Scaife and the Crossed Dumb-bell representative slightly ahead. The
venomous crack-crack of two rifles reverberated and re-echoed along the gorge,
the sound tossed from wall to wall, and the horses of the leaders dropped,
sending their riders headlong. The rest of the party, whirling their startled
mounts, scampered back round the protecting curve. The landlord and his fallen
companion clawed their way crab-wise behind the dead bodies of their horses and
began to industriously pump lead at the clump of rocks sheltering the
ambushers. The other three, having recovered from their panic, also commenced
to waste cartridges, but without eliciting any response.