Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 05 - Law O' The Lariat(1935) (23 page)

 
          
Mounted
on fresh horses and reinforced by Ridge, five of his men and Lunt, the
expedition set out again, their objective the great tooth in the range beneath
which Severn knew the bandits’ retreat was situated. The few miles of grazing
were soon covered, and then they reached the foothills and broken country out
of which the mountains rose. There was little conversation; the difficulties of
the trail focused the attention of each rider upon his
mount
:
a careless step might bring about a catastrophe.

 
          
Mile
upon mile of the arduous journey was covered, and afternoon found them amid the
pines which clothed the lower slopes of the mountains.

 
          
Presently
they emerged from the pines and forcing their way through a dense jungle of
undergrowth which covered a long rise, found themselves on the rim-rock of a
small basin. In front of them the ground dropped sharply down through a belt of
scrub to a hollow of rich grass, in the centre of which, gleaming like a gem in
the sunlight, was a pool of water. On the other side the grass sloped gently up
to an almost vertical wall of stone, bare of vegetation, ribbed and
weather-stained, which, from where they stood, seemed to rise almost unbroken
to where it terminated in one of the storm-scarred peaks which gave the range
its name. Around the water cattle and horses were grazing, and about eighty
feet up the cliff face was the ledge leading to the caves.

 
          
“Shore
looks peaceful,
don’t
it?” Ridge remarked. “I’ll bet
them cattle ain’t wearin’ their lawful labels.”

 
          
“Diggin’
the devils out ain’t goin’ to be as easy as pullin’ a cork,” the foreman said.
“There may be another way into the caves, but the on’y one I know of is along
the face o’ the cliff, an’ one man on the ledge could hold it against a score.
My idea is this: me an’ two-three others will try for the pathway an’ the
rest’ll line up in the brush this side o’ the valley an’ cover us, droppin’ any
guy who comes out o’ the caves; the range ain’t more’n seven hundred.”

 
          
No
one had a better suggestion to offer, and Severn, with Snap, Gentle, and Big
Boy—who pleaded a personal debt to pay—rode for the entrance to the valley.
Keeping closely under cover, they presently came to the opening through which
Severn had been taken before; it was unguarded, and having hidden their mounts
they passed through. In the corral they found several horses and turned them
loose. Hardly had they commenced the climb up the cliff when two shots rang out
in quick succession; they did not come from across the basin.

 
          
“That
was a warning—they got a lookout posted somewhere,” the foreman said.

 
          
Evidently
the alarm had brought men out of the caves, for puffs of smoke and sharp
reports echoed from the other side of the valley; Ridge and his men were
getting into the game. The ascent of the path now became a perilous project,
for in places where the cliff bulged the climbers were exposed to fire from the
ledge above. The bandits were well aware of this, and two of them, lying prone
on the ground, waited with levelled guns for the appearance of the attackers.

 
          
“Hug
the wall, boys, an’ jump lively round these dam curves,” were the leader’s
orders.

 
          
With
their backs to the rock face, a yard at a time, they crept slowly up the
footway, bullets whistling past their ears as they dodged round the dangerous
bends. The last of these was only a matter of twenty yards from the caves, and
here they paused, panting, to deliberate. The firing from across the valley had
now died away, as though the marksmen had realised the futility of trying to
hit the flattened figures of the defenders. Peeping round the shoulder of rock
which sheltered them the foreman saw one of the bandits at the top of the
pathway cautiously rise to his feet, Instantly, away off in the scrub a rifle
spoke, and the man, dropping his own weapon, flung up his arms, staggered, and
pitched headlong over the precipice. Severn seized the opportunity.

 
          
“Come
ahead, boys,” he cried. “There’s on’y one now.”

 
          
With
the words he dashed round the corner and the others followed. The solitary
defender, taken by surprise, fired one wild shot, scrambled upright and ran for
the cave, only to drop, a huddled heap, at the entrance. A shout from behind
made the foreman
turn,
and he saw Ridge, with some
more of the men, climbing the pathway. Keeping well to the side of the ledge,
he waited for the reinforcement. The entrance to the Cavern, black and
forbidding, had yet to be negotiated.

 
          
“Thought
we’d be more use up here,” Ridge panted, as he and his men reached the top.
“What’s the next move?”

 
          
Severn
pointed to the opening. “We gotta rush it,” he said. “Risky, o’ course, but
there’s no other way.”

 
          
Bunching together as much out of sight as possible, they edged up
to the opening, dashed in and flung themselves flat on the floor.
Shafts
of flame split the darkness ahead of them and bullets hummed over their heads,
but owing to Severn’s ruse there were no casualties. Lying prone in the
shadows, the attackers returned the fire, aiming at the flashes, and the walls
of the cave re-echoed the reports. There was the acrid smell of burnt powder
and the blue smoke whirled through the opening behind them. How many of the
bandits were opposing them the besiegers had no means of telling, but that they
were falling back or suffering loss was soon shown by the slackening of the firing.
Severn whispered an order, and his men rose and rushed forward.

 
          
Out
of the gloom came spits of
fire,
and by the momentary
light they saw white-swathed faces at which they shot. One of the XT men
dropped, and Severn stumbled over a man’s body just as a gun barked in his
face. Clutching as he fell, he caught the other round the middle and they went
down together. The foreman felt two claw-like hands gripping his throat and
struck violently with the barrel of his revolver. He heard the thud of steel
upon bone, a groan, and the choking grip fell away. He staggered to his feet to
find that someone had discovered a lantern and that the fight was over. Several
of the cowboys had been hit, but none seriously. Two of the bandits lay dead on
the ground, another—Severn’s late opponent—was still unconscious; the rest had
vanished.

 
          
“Get
more lights an’ search every hole,” the foreman ordered. “There must be another
way outa this damn warren.”

 
          
Snap
Lunt had also disappeared. At the first gleam of the lantern he had glimpsed a
shadow melting into the dark depths of the cavern and had gone in pursuit.
Stumbling along what appeared to be a
tunnel,
he saw a
line of light and, feeling above it, discovered a door. It was not fastened,
and pushing it ajar he saw a small room, hollowed out of the living rock. On a
homemade table in the centre a candle was burning, and by a pallet-bed a man
stooped, hurriedly putting together a pack. Snap’s eyes gleamed as he stepped
noiselessly in, closed the door, and then chuckled aloud. The man’s head jerked
round, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped; he might have been looking at a
ghost.

 
          
“Snap?”
he gasped.

 
          
“Shore
thing—the same old
Snap
,” the gunman grated. “Don’t bother
about yore pack, Shady; yu won’t need it where yo’re goin’.”

 
          
The
ruffian gaped, terror patent in his eyes, at this peril from the past which had
so suddenly confronted him. One man only in the whole world did he fear and
this man was before him; a quick death was the most mercy he could expect. In
sudden desperation he swept the candle from the table and jumped aside. Out of
the dark came Snap’s jeering voice:

 
          
“Panicky, eh, Shady?
Well, it gives yu a better chance but
it won’t save yu. Tell me where the girl is an’ mebbe I’ll let yu go—this
time.”

 
          
“I’ll
see yu in hell,”
came
the answer.

 
          
“Yeah,
but yu’ll have to wait for me.” Lunt laughed.

 
          
The
outlaw did not reply, fearing his voice might betray his location, and for a
few moments the silence was unbroken. There, in the utter blackness, the two
men
waited,
each intent on the other’s life. Both were
experienced gun-fighters, and both knew that the slightest slip would mean
death. Shadwell stood motionless, half-crouching, his gun levelled from the
hip, waiting, listening. Presently he heard a faint sound as of a boot-heel
crushing a fragment of rock and strained his ears in the endeavour to place it.
Again it reached him and the thought that his enemy was creeping up made him
shiver. Certain that he knew the direction, he fired. The flash showed that he
had guessed wrongly—the grinning, vengeful face of the cowboy was well to the
left of the spot he had aimed at. Ere he could pull the trigger again a spurt
of flame stabbed the darkness and his left arm dropped, numbed and useless to
his side. The pain of the wound wrenched a groan from his lips.

 
          
“Got
yore left wing, eh, Shady?”
came
the mocking voice.
“It’ll be yore right next, and then—”

 
          
The
wounded man fired wildly at the sound and flung himself sideways, but no
answering bullet came. Had he made a lucky hit? Breathlessly he waited,
cowering against the wall of the cave. His damaged arm throbbed with pain and
he could feel the warm blood trickling down. There was a shuffling of feet
outside the door, and a voice
called :

 
          
“Hey, stranger, yu in there?”

 
          
“Yeah.
Go away—I’m busy,” Lunt replied, and Shadwell
shivered, for the tones were not those of a stricken man. He heard the
departing footsteps of the man outside and they sounded like a death knell;
Lunt must be very sure. Again the nerve-wracking silence endured and was
becoming unbearable when the cowboy
spoke :

 
          
“Listen,
Shady, I’m agoin’ to give yu a chance, which is more’n yu gave Rafe Sanders,”
he said. “I’ve found the candle; when I’ve lighted it, we both go for our guns.
What yu say?”

 
          
“Good
‘nuff,” croaked the other, trying to keep the exultation out of his voice.

 
          
He
heard Lunt fumbling about, saw the splutter of the match, and forthwith fired.
But the match did not waver, a streak of flame spouted from the gunman’s right
hip, and the bandit crashed forward with a bullet in his brain. For Shadwell’s
cunning had not been equal to that of his opponent. Prepared to cheat, he had
reasoned that Snap would strike the match with his right hand, so he aimed to
the left of the flame. But Lunt had guarded against treachery by snapping the
match alight with his left thumbnail well away from his body, the gun in his
right ready to shoot. Shadwell had been outplayed and he had paid the penalty.
The little gunman lighted the candle and looked contemptuously at the man he
had slain.

 
          
“Crooked
to the end, like I knowed he’d be,” he commented. “Well, it’s been comin’ to yu
a long time, Shady.”

 
          
Having
made sure that the man was dead, Snap went in search of his companions. He
found Severn and the owner of the XT at the entrance to the Cavern
interrogating the man who had been stunned. He was a surly-looking ruffian and
sullenly refused to give any information.

 
          
Severn
turned away. “If he won’t talk, string him up, Ridge,” he said shortly. “We got
no time to waste on fools.”

 
          
The
possibility of anything but death had apparently not occurred to the captive,
but at the foreman’s words he looked up. “What was yu askin’?” he growled.

 
          
“Where
is Miss Masters?” Severn said. “An’ come clean, or yu’ll die so quick hell
won’t be ready for yu.”

 
          
“There
was a gal here but they took her on to the other cache,” the fellow replied.

 
          
“Where’s
that?” snapped the foreman.