Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 09 - Sudden Makes War(1942) (42 page)

 
          
Grim
of face, he let go, felt the air whistle in his ears, then branches struck him,
and he clutched; the bush withstood the shock of his weight. Arms aching until
it seemed they must leave their
sockets,
he dangled
there, and waited for aid. It seemed long in coming. Actually, as they told him
later, Dan, Hunch, and Yorky were on the ledge less than ten minutes after the
daring drop. His first news of them was the loop of a lariat which slid past
his face. Slipping his weary arms through, he was hauled up, bruised, but
little the worse.

 
          
“Shore,
I’m all right,” he replied to Yorky’s shaky enquiry. “Injuns think a lot o’ the
mesquite; I’m agreein’ with ‘em. Did he hit Trenton?”

 
          
“No,
Zeb ‘pears to have collapsed just as Bundy fired—the journey’s takin’ it out of
him, an’ there ain’t much to take,” Dan replied.
“Thought
we’d lost you, Jim.
How come?”

 
          
“He
fooled me—good an’ proper,” Sudden confessed, and told about it.

 
          
When
they rejoined the others, Trenton had recovered, and was chaffing at the delay.
He scowled at Sudden. “So you wiped out Bundy? I wanted him myself, an’ I don’t
thank you,” he said.

 
          
“Did
I ask yu to?” the puncher retorted, and rode on.

 
          
“By God!”
Tiny swore. “Next time Jim sees someone taking’ a
pot at you he’ll let ‘em git on with it, I reckon.”

 
          
Trenton
asked curtly what he was talking about. The cowboy told him, and put it
plainly.

 
          
Followed another question.
“Wasn’t it Green an’ two-three
more o’ you who beat Bundy up for no reason?”

 
          
“Jim
thrashed him—alone—for ill-treatin’ Yorky. Bundy knocked the boy down, stole
his rifle, shot his pony, an’ set him afoot out on the range, a sick kid, with
night comin’ on.
No reason, huh?”

 
          
“Is
that true?”

 
          
The
cowboy’s good-humoured face became bleak. “If you wanta call me a liar,
Trenton, wait till yo’re well.”

 
          
The
rancher dismissed the threat with a grimace of disdain. “How long have you
known Green?”

 
          
“Not
near so long as I have you, but I like him a damned sight more,” was the candid
reply.

 
          
And
that concluded the conversation.

 
          
Two
more days of travel brought them within a mile of Rainbow, and there, in a
wooded hollow well away from the trail out of the town, Dover called a halt.

 
          
“Before
we decide anythin’ I’ll slip in an’ get word with Bowdyr,” he said. “It’ll be
dark when I reach the Parlour,
an I
’ll take care not
to be seen.”

 
          
When
he returned, he was excited, and a little jubilant. “We’re in time,” he
announced.

 
          
“Maitland
is offerin’ the ranches for sale tomorrow mornin’, at eleven o’clock; all the
cattlemen in the district have been notified. He’s in a hurry, curse him;
that’s the day my mortgage expires.”

 
          
“Mine
too,” Trenton growled.

 
          
“Well,
mebbe he’ll get a surprise,” Dover went on. “We’ll camp here to-night. The sale
is to take place in the Parlour, an’ we can sneak in through the back—I’ve
fixed it with Ben. Our game is to lie low until Garstone has showed his hand—if
he’s there. He won’t be expectin’ any of us, an’ he’s figurin’ Trenton is
cashed. We can hear everythin’ from the room behind, an’ sift in at the right
moment. All agreed?”

 
          
The
assent was general. Trenton, a tired and sick man, sustained solely by his
thirst for vengeance, asked one question:

 
          
“Anythin’
been seen of Garstone an’ Beth?”

 
          
“No,
but they may’ve gone straight to yore ranch.”

 
          
Dover’s
surmise was correct. Garstone and the girl had actually arrived in the vicinity
of Rainbow several hours ahead of the Circle Dot, and Beth had insisted they
should avoid the town. Garstone had no objection to offer. His comment, if
uncomplimentary to his companion, was true—neither of them was fit to be seen.
The homeward trek had been an ordeal for both, and to the girl a nightmare. Many
times they had lost all sense of direction, and in the end had blundered
blindly on the wagon-road to the settlement. Taking so much longer than they
expected, food ran out, and though the man could shoot, he was so poor a
woodsman that he frequently frightened the game and returned empty-handed.

 
          
The
stress of the journey had shown Garstone to small advantage. Obsessed by his
eagerness to get on, he showed less and less consideration for his companion,
and any delay infuriated him. At such times he was almost brutal in his
insistence, and she began to divine that his customary suavity was but a mask.
The plea that he must save the ranch did not satisfy her.

 
          
Any
expression of anxiety concerning her uncle only irritated him.

 
          
“You
didn’t expect them to catch us up, surely,” he said. “They would have to travel
slowly, and you must remember that Zeb is not young, and sorely hurt; anything
may have happened.”

 
          
He
had intended to prepare her for the news he hoped Bundy would bring, that the
rancher had succumbed to his injury, but he only succeeded in frightening her.

 
          
“You
mean he is—dead?” she asked fearfully.

 
          
“Of
course not, but he may have had a relapse, which would delay them,” he replied
quickly. “On the other hand, Bundy would know a shorter way than we found, and
they may be waiting at the ranch.”

 
          
This
did not prove to be the case; at the Wagon-wheel nothing had been heard of the
owner or the foreman. When the travellers had washed, dressed, and eaten,
Garstone was in a more pleasant frame of mind.

 
          
“Well,
my dear, we’re only just in time,” he said. “I have a notice from Maitland that
the Wagon-wheel and Circle Dot ranches will be sold tomorrow morning.”

 
          
“But isn’t that rather high-handed?”
Beth asked.

 
          
“It
certainly is, and I cannot understand Zeb giving them the power to do it.
Either he is a poor business man, or he was in desperate need of the loan.
However, we’ll give that money-grubber a jolt.”

 
          
“We?
Surely there is no necessity for me to attend?”

 
          
“On
the contrary, it is most essential. In your ‘uncle’s absence, you represent the
family, and—I don’t think he’d mind your knowing this—you are his heir.”

 
          
“What
have we to do?”

 
          
“Clear
the Wagon-wheel and buy the Circle Dot,” he replied triumphantly. “The two will
make a fine property—for us, Beth. We shall also fling that red-haired boor
into the mire.”

 
          
The
venom in his voice revolted her. “I have no wish to see Mister Dover ruined,”
she said coldly.

 
          
His
surprise was genuine.
“Why this sudden solicitude for the
enemy of your family?”

 
          
“On
one occasion, at least, he saved my life,” she reminded. Garstone shrugged. “I
doubt if the cattle would have hurt you,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll make Dover
foreman at the Circle Dot.”

 
          
“
Which would humiliate him still more.
”

 
          
Her
vehemence brought a thoughtful expression to his face. “No, that wouldn’t do—he
must leave Rainbow. A disturbing element, but I can deal with him.”

 
          
She
looked at him with stormy eyes. “Which means that you will get someone else to
do it, I suppose,” she said cuttingly. “I am tired of this hatred and violence.
I will have no part in it.”

 
          
Her
mind in a tumult, she sought solitude in her own room, to sit, staring blindly
at the peaceful scene without. Something had happened to her; it was as though
she had awakened from an evil dream. She had not yet said “Yes” to Chesney
Garstone, and knew now that she never would.

 
          
The
man himself was not perturbed by her outbreak. “Overwrought,” he decided.
“She’ll learn.” The game was in his hands now. He had the money, and Trenton
was dead—he felt sure of that, though the non-appearance of Lake and Bundy was
perplexing. One bold stroke would put him in possession of both ranches. He
went to Trenton’s office to prepare it.

 
          
When
the Circle Dot men awoke in the morning it was to find one of their number,
Hunch, missing; no one had seen him go, and his horse was still there.

 
          
“Reckon
he warn’t interested,” Dan opined. “Hiked off to the ranch, or back into the
woods—he was anus happier there. His testimony wouldn’t count anyway. You got
any ideas, Doc?”

 
          
“No,
he beats me,” was the reply.

 
          
Breakfast
was eaten, razors produced, and they made themselves as presentable as
possible. “No ‘casion to look like a lot o’ bums if we are busted,” Dover
remarked, and Malachi, for one, agreed with him. Then they sat down to wait the
word from Bowdyr.

 
          
By
the hour advertised
that portion
of the Parlour
usually devoted to dancing contained almost the whole male population of
Rainbow, and a few of the women. There were also strangers, cattlemen from the
outlying ranges, and a sprinkling of others whose garb told that they were
alien to the West. Lounging against the wall at the back, glum-faced, were
Burke and the rest of the Circle Dot outfit.

 
          
On
the little platform the piano had been pushed aside, and a table, with several
chairs, substituted. At this sat the banker, his daughter beside him. Prompt to
the moment he rose and briefly explained the purpose of the meeting, concluding
with the remark, “Some of you may regard this action as inconsiderate on the
part of the bank, but I must remind you that business is business, and a
financial institution cannot be conducted on philanthropic lines.”

 
          
He
waited for the perfunctory applause of this oratorical gem to die down, and was
about to continue when there was a stir at the door; Garstone and Miss Trenton
entered. The big man had timed their arrival to the instant. He had the leather
satchel under one arm. Maitland stepped from his platform to meet them.

 
          
“I
am delighted to see you both,” he greeted. “I could get no news of you at the
ranch. I trust Mister Trenton is well.”

 
          
Garstone
drew him apart, and a whispered conversation ensued. At the end of it the
banker was all subservience. “Of course, as a man of affairs, you will
understand how I was situated,” he excused. “My head office—”

 
          
Garstone
cut him short with a gesture, and conducted his companion to the platform,
where seats were provided. The banker again addressed the audience.

 
          
“The
arrival of Mister Garstone with funds to liquidate the bank’s debt disposes of
the Wagon-wheel,” he announced. “Is there anyone here to represent the Circle
Dot?”

 
          
“Yeah,
me,” Burke called out. “An’ I say it’s a damned shame to sell Dan Dover’s
property behind his back.”