Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 08 - Sudden Takes The Trail(1940) (15 page)

 
          
“You’ll
get no help from me,” he replied, and when the ruffian gripped him by the
throat, forced him to his knees, and swung his pistol aloft, added, “Shoot,
damn you, and rouse the place.” The threatened shot did not come. Instead, the
barrel of the weapon dropped, with savage, merciless venom on the bent grey
head, toppling the victim to the floor with a gashed, bleeding skull. The
striker snatched up the still-lighted candle and surveyed the senseless man
with malignant satisfaction.

 
          
“Guess
we can help ourselves,” he snarled. “That pays a score anyway. Last time we did
business together it was yore turn; now it’s mine. I’ll trouble you for yore
keys, friend.” On his knees beside the stricken man, he was searching the
pockets when a gasp of horror made him glance up; the banker’s wife, wide-eyed
and open-mouthed, was staring at the scene.

 
          
“Gag
her—quick,” he ordered.

 
          
One
of them clapped a hand over her lips, choking the cry in her throat, while
another whipped the shawl from her shoulders, muffled her head with it, and
then bound her wrists and ankles.

 
          
“Lucky
I fetched along these piggin strings,” he chuckled, as he completed the brutal
task. “She won’t bother us.” Jake stood up. “
Here’s the keys
,”
he said. “C’mon, we gotta work fast.” They followed him into the business part
of the premises and soon the safe was at their mercy. A leathern satchel lay
near it.

 
          
“That’s
just what we want,” Jake grinned.
“Thoughtful o’ Bob to
provide it.”
With coarse jests they packed bags of coin and packets of
currency into the receptacle, and having cleared the safe of all that was of
any use to them, were about to rummage the drawers and desks when two rapid
pistol-shots rang out.

 
          
“What th’ hell’s that mean?”
Jake asked.

 
          
“A
signal from the boys,” Javert suggested.

 
          
“Then
they must be loco,” was the reply. “We’ll beat it; I reckon we’ve cleaned the
place.”

 
          
As
they hurried to the door, the leader glanced suspiciously at the supine figures
on the floor, but neither appeared to have moved.

 
          
“Who
fired
them
shots?” he demanded of the men outside.

 
          
“You
tell us,” one of the waiting group retorted.
“They ‘peared to
come from inside.”

 
          
“Couldn’t
have,” Jake snapped. “None of us pulled trigger, Morley is as near dead as damn
it, an’
the of
woman hawg-tied.
Hell
!
the
town is wakin’ up.” It was true; lights
were gleaming in several windows, doors opening, and men’s voices could be
heard.

 
          
“We
gotta go—pronto,” Jake decided, and turned to Dutch, who was carrying the
plunder.

 
          
“You
know what to do. With the stuff safely hidden they can’t prove a thing, even if
they overtake us. Now, ride like the devil.” Bunched together, with no further
attempt at concealment, they shot into the open and, with a defiant yell,
galloped away.

 
          
The
two reports had found the marshal and his deputy on the alert, and they were
the first to reach the street. Others soon joined them, some only half-dressed,
but all carrying weapons, and asking the same question:

 
          
“What’s
the trouble?” Nobody knew, until the retreating raiders flashed into indistinct
view for a few seconds, and then Sudden swore: “
Damnation !
I might ‘a’ guessed it—the bank.

 
          
Take
some men an’ get after ‘em, Ned; mebbe yu can run ‘em down.”

 
          
“What
are you goin’ to do, Jim,” Nippert asked.

 
          
“I’ve
another plan—it’s a chance an’ no more. Dave, I’ll need yu, but we’ll have a
look at the bank first.” Leaving the saloon-keeper and his posse to take up the
pursuit, the others hurried to the building, found the front door fastened and
the side one open. The marshal stepped in and struck a match. At his feet was
the candle the visitors had thrown down. Lighted, it revealed the prostrate
body of the banker.

 
          
“Hurt
had, but he’ll pull round,” Sudden announced, after a brief examination. “Lift
an’ carry him to the bedroom.” As two of them raised the limp form a revolver
clattered to the floor.

 
          
Dave
picked it up.

 
          
“A
couple o’ empty shells,” he remarked. “Musta fired them shots what roused us
hisself.

 
          
Bravo,
Bob.” By this time the woman had also been found and released, but she was in a
dead faint, and could give them no information. The gaping door of the safe
told the rest of the story.

 
          
The
marshal drew his assistant aside.

 
          
“We
can’t do anythin’ here—nothin’ to go on,” he said. “Let’s take a ride.” They
got their horses and Sudden led the way eastwards until the settlement was
behind them and then turned sharply to the left into a wilderness of scrub and
small timber. Travelling through this in the darkness was a ticklish operation,
but the marshal found a way, twisting and turning but —as his companion noticed—always
coming back to a fixed line. Presently they reached a tract of pines, and the
guide gave a grunt of satisfaction.

       
“There’s my blaze,” he said.

 
          
On
the trunk of one tree, showing clearly in the
gloom,
was a white mark where a strip of bark had been slashed away with a knife.

 
          
“
Yu been
here afore?” Dave wanted to know.

 
          
“I
spent some time searchin’ out this trail on my way back yestiddy.”

 
          
“For the love o’ Mike, why?”

 
          
“We’re
goin’ to find out,” Sudden told him.

 
          
“Open up, yu clam.
Nippert’ll never catch ‘em. What are we
riskin’ our necks an’ hosses in this blasted brush for?” The reply was a
question. “When yu rob a bank what’s the first thing yu wanta do?”

 
          
“Why,
yu black-haired misery,” Dave began indignantly, and then laughed. “Me, I’m
mighty eager to cache the coin, ain’t yu?”

 
          
“That’s
the right answer, an’ I’m gamblin’ that these hombres will have the same
notion.

 
          
Now,
if they come from the hills, they gotta cross The Step, an’ their nearest point
ain’t far from where we lost that rustlin’ gent. I’ve been lookin’ the ground
over.” The next few miles were covered in silence. At intervals a blazed tree
was passed, telling them they were on the right path, but the journey was
taking longer than the marshal had expected; darkness had doubled the
difficulty and made any attempt at speed impossible. So the grey light of dawn
was streaking the eastern sky when they reached their destination—the stretch
of gravelly ground. On the edge of this, screened by thick bushes, they drew
rein.

 
          
“If
my hunch is good, they’ll come this way,” the marshal said. “An Injun would
lose their tracks on that stuff, an’ there’s more on the other side o’ the
creek; the place was made for fellas on the dodge.” For a while they waited as
patiently as might be, watching the stars pale and fade before the coming of
the day. It was a wearisome business, for the morning air was chill, and they
dared not smoke. Dave voiced the thoughts in both their minds:

 
          
“Mebbe
we’ve missed ‘em.” Sudden raised a warning hand; his sharp ears had caught the
snap of a twig away to their left. Soon
came
the pad
of a trotting horse.

 
          
“On’y
one, seemin’ly,” Dave murmured perplexedly.

 
          
Both
drew out their rifles. The sounds became clearer, and presently a horseman
emerged from the undergrowth. In the half-light, they could see that his
features were blotted out by a kerchief, and secured to the cantle of his
saddle was a bulky package. Unhurriedly he began to cross the open space and
was less than a hundred yards away when Sudden’s voice rose above the rumble of
the waterfall:

 
          
“Hold
on, or we’ll drop yu.” They saw the violent start, the snatched look at the two
men, who had now ridden out, and heard the curse which greeted their
appearance. Grabbing a gun, the unknown sent two bullets whistling past their
ears, and then—apparently realizing that in another moment they would be upon
him —bent low in the saddle and spurred his mount remorselessly.

 
          
“If
he gets to the stream we’ll lose him like we did afore,” Sudden said, and
raised his rifle.

 
          
One
shot, and the fugitive flung up his arms and pitched to the ground; the pony
careered on. With scarce a glance at the sprawling form, the two men raced
after the the runaway, and in a short space Sudden’s loop settled over its
head. Pulling the brute alongside, he thumped the package, and grinned with
saturnine satisfaction when he heard the unmistakable clink of coin.

 
          
“That’s
the loot from the bank,” he said. “Let’s have a look at the fella they trusted
with it.” The man was lying on his face, but one glance told that he was dead;
the bullet had broken his spine. Sudden turned the body over and removed the
improvised mask.

 
          
“Dutch!”
he exclaimed. “Well, that’s somethin’ else I might ‘a’ guessed.”

 
          
“Sorta
points to Mullins, huh?”

 
          
“Yeah,
but yu couldn’t prove it. They left Welcome together, but it don’t follow they
stayed that way; Dutch may’ve gone to the hills on his own account. Well, gotta
take him in, I s’pose.” Roped across the back of his own horse the dead robber
returned to Welcome. They stopped at the bank, where they found Nippert.

 
          
“We
never saw hide
nor hair of ‘em,”
he said, in answer to
the marshal’s question. “An’ when we lost the trail, there was nothin’ for it
but to come home.”

 
          
“How’s
Bob?”

 
          
“He’s
got a busted head, but that’ll mend, if he gives it a chance.”

 
          
“I
got the medicine to cure him,” Sudden said. “They say money talks. Well, it
shore does.
Listen !
” He lifted the leather bag and
smote it, once, twice. “Hear it?” The saloon-keeper’s eyes popped out.
“If you ain’t the shinin’ limit!
This’ll save Morley’s life.”

 
          
“Take
it in to him,” the marshal smiled. “
Me
an’ Dave ain’t
slept since the last time—‘bout a week ago, it seems. We’ll see
the of
boy later.” As he went out, a chalk-faced youth was
climbing back on to his stool in the office. Sudden guessed he had seen the
grisly sight outside, and went to him.

 
          
“Don’t
worry, son,” he said. “I’ve fetched the stolen money back, an’ yore boss will
get well. Stay with yore job —there’s worse ways o’ earnin’ a livin’ than
bankin’.” Dumb with amazement and relief, Evans watched the tall, lithe figure
swing into the saddle and ride down the street.

 
          
“Gawd,
what a man,” he murmured.

 
          
JAKE
and his band, having succeeded in eluding pursuit, made a wide detour to avoid
the Bar O range, and reached the gully about the same time as the marshal and
his deputy returned to Welcome. The absence of Dutch astonished them.

 
          
“What
in hell can have delayed him?” Mullins muttered. “He’s had time to cover the
ground twice.” Javert’s face took on an ugly sneer. “Yeah, time to git to the
California border, pretty near,” was his reply.