Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (19 page)

 
          
The
lawyer was on his feet instantly, beady eyes agleam: at that moment he almost
liked the rancher. Only a month or so previously he had sat in that same place,
squirming under the castigating tongue of the man he now had an opportunity to
repay. The Weasel was not one to forget.

 
          
“With
due respect, I submit that the court is exceeding its powers, and there is
nothing in the statutes to justify such procedure,’ he said. “In any case, a
conviction on the testimony so far adduced would be a judicial crime.’

 
          
He
sat down, and the room gasped. Towler’s pale face had become purple, and he
would have joyfully murdered the man who had brought this humiliation upon him.
But he was impotent, and knew it. Ignoring the lawyer, he addressed Cullin:

 
          
“If
you had been a little more patient, sir, you would have heard me instruct the
jury to entirely exonerate the accused on both charges,’ he explained
ponderously. “It was for his benefit I decided that the second—and
possible—charge should be dealt with now.’

 
          
The
verdict having been formally recorded, the Judge dismissed the jury, and
remembered he still had a duny to perform. “Sheriff, you will take the fellow,
Gilman, into custody and hold him for trial,’ he ordered.

 
          
Silent,
chin on chest, the foreman slouched out, a deputy on either side.
Camort followed, glad of an excuse to get away from friends and
foes, neither of whom would spare him.
The Judge too picked up his hat
and departed, bitterly conscious that he had cut a sorry figure.

 
          
When
Nick and the puncher tried to slip away they found themselves surrounded by a
surging section of the crowd yelling crude congratulations, and struggling to
get near enough to slap the nester on the back or grab a hand. He endured the
ordeal with a sardonic grin, conscious that some of them, anyway, would have
striven as strenuously to see him hanged.

 
          
“Awright,
boys,’ he called. “The drinks are shore on me, but you’ll have to go to
Merker’s for ‘em.’

 
          
This
started another stampede—in the direction of the saloon —and in a few moments,
only a small group remained; they had remained aloof while the demonstration
was on.

 
          
“I’m
mighty obliged to you all,’ Nick said quietly.

 
          
“Glad
to see you clear of a nasty mess,’ the banker said. “If you hadn’t thought of
keeping those numbers….’

 
          
“I
didn’t,’
came
the candid reply. “That was Jim’s idea.’

 
          
“A very good one,’ Seale complimented. “
It wrecked the prosecution,
and exposed a very shabby rogue.’

 
          
“Yeah,
but what we didn’t learn was the name o’ the bigger rogue who put him up to
it,’ Pilch said meaningly.

 
          
“That
may come out at the trial,’ Cullin replied carelessly. “He’s the sort to
squeal.’

 
          
“There’ll
be no trial,’ Nick asserted. “He’ll get away.’ “They dasn’t let him,’ Pilch
cried.

 
          
“They
dasn’t keep him,’ Drait contradicted.

 
          
The
Big C man laughed. “You may be right. Anyway, he’ll be no loss, an’ we are to
have a charmin’ substitute. Any harm in sayin’ that now, Seale?’

 
          
“No,
everything is virtually settled,’ the lawyer said. He looked at Drait. “I shall
be at the S P in the morning. Perhaps Miss Darrell would like to come over and
inspect her property?’

 
          
The
nester agreed that it was likely, and the matter having been explained to the
other men, further congratulations were forthcoming, to be carried to the lady.
Nick cut them short by suggesting an adjournment to the saloon:

 
          
“I
wanta find out what I owe, an’ add to it,’ he said.

 
          
On
the way, Cullin fell in beside him. “If yo’re gettin’ rid o’ Shadow Valley,
gimme first offer, an’ make yore own price,’ he murmured.

 
          
“I’m
not sellin’—at any figure, an’ I’m not leavin’ it,’ Drait replied shortly.

 
          
Which
was precisely the answer hoped for.

 
          
THAT
same evening the nester and his wife discussed, for the first time, the
impending change. He had given her a brief account of the proceedings at
Midway, but without revealing the gravity of the peril to which he had been
exposed. Drait did not conceal that Cullin had taken his part.

 
          
“So
you were wrong about him?’ she said.

 
          
Not
any,’ Nick replied. “He was grand-snandin’. Towler was givin’ the game away,
an’ the boys were getting wise. It was a smart move, but it
don’t
razzle-dazzle me. I’d bet a blue stack he’s behind the whole dirty business.’

 
          
His
apparent ingratitude appeared unnatural, but she said no more. The news that he
would remain in the valley, Ieaving her free to go to the S P, came as a
relief, and produced no protest. If her evident eagerness to get away from him
hurt, he did not show it.

 
          
“You’ll
need a woman in the place,’ he remarked. “Better take Lindy.’

 
          
“Isn’t
there a cook at the ranch?’

 
          
“Yeah,
one o’ Sam’s riders who got too old for the saddle, but he’ll be no good
alone.’

 
          
She
gave in. Truth to tell, she did want the Negress, but would have died rather
than ask for her; the prospect of going to the S P lacking a friendly face had
been more than daunting.

 
          
“Then
there’s a foreman,’ Nick went on. “I can spare Quilt—for a time, anyway.’

 
          
“No,’
she said sharply, and when his eyebrows went up, “I prefer to give orders, not
take them. I can find someone; if he knows his work, that’s all I require.’

 
          
“Gilman
knew that much,’ he reminded. “Trouble was
,
he didn’t
do it.’

 
          
“There
was no-one in charge,’ she argued. “Men are all alike—they only need the
opportunity to go off the rails.’

 
          
This
bit of wisdom—a blow at
himself—
brought a smile.

 
          
“Shore,
it’s a wicked world,’ he said. The men are devils an’ the women saints—mebbe.
I’ll trail along with you to the S P.’

 
          
“There
is no necessity,’ she replied coldly. “Mister Seale will be able to explain
everything.’

 
          
“Seale
knows little about the cattle business; don’t trust him too much; yore appearance
was a disappointment, remember.’

 
          
Instead,
she recalled what Cullin had told her, and shrugged impatiently. “Is there
anyone you do not suspect?’

 
          
“Mighty
few,’ he agreed. “We’ll take Lindy with us—one o’ the boys can drive her over;
she’ll see what is wanted to make the place comfortable.’

 
          
Mary
knew she was being unreasonable, that the arrangements were sensible and for
her welfare, but they chafed. Unconsciously, she thought aloud:

 
          
“Thank
Heaven,
I shall soon be able to do as I please.’

 
          
The
stark exultation in her voice, coupled with an utter absence of gratitude,
roused within him a fierce impatience. “No matter where you are, you’ll still
be my wife,’ he said sternly. “If ever you forget that

 
          
“You
will shoot me, of course,’ she retorted hardily.

 
          
The
spirit of anger had passed, leaving a cold grimness infinitely more sinister. “You
wouldn’t be worth the cost of a cartridge,’ he said deliberately. “But I should
shorely kill the man.’

 
          
He
went out. For long she sat staring into the blazing logs, and, despite the
heat, she was cold—inwardly. He would keep his word, for if she allowed him
only one virtue, it was that. She was alone,
save
for
Lindy, who almost worshipped her master, she had no friend. Her thoughts veered
to Cullin, so different from her husband, kind, considerate, and more polished.
No doubt he could be forceful, even ruthless—men had to be in that only
semi-civilised land—but she did not believe he was responsible for the outrages
in Shadow Valley. He had promised to help her. Comforted by the remembrance,
she crept away to bed.

 
          
In
the morning they set out for the S P, Yorky driving Lindy in the buckboard,
escorted by the girl, Nick, and Sudden, on horseback. They found the lawyer
awaiting them on the veranda, in conversation with a little, old, grey-bearded
man. He greeted them cordially, and when they had dismounted, swept an arm
around.

 
          
“Well,
Miss Darrell, there’s your domain,’ he said.

 
          
She
gazed at him, big-eyed. “Do you mean that I possess all this land?’ she cried.

 
          
Seale
smiled, and shook his head. “No, you actually own not much more than the
buildings occupy, but you have priority grazing rights for many miles about,
which is all you need.’ He beckoned to the bearded man. “This is Rod Milton,
the cook, one of your grandfather’s old servants.’

 
          
“Pleased
to meetcha, ma’am,’ Milton said, and then, as he saw her clearly, “Gosh! I
could a’most believe it was Miss Mary back agin.’

 
          
“You
knew my mother?’ the girl cried.

 
          
“I
gentled her first pony,’ he replied. “But that was afore we come to these
parts. Yo’re as like her as one dollar is to another.’

 
          
“Rod
was anxious about his job, but I told him you’d probably keep him on,’ Seale
said.

 
          
“But,
of course. Lindy is coming as
housekeeper,
she’ll need
help in the kitchen.’

 
          
The
little man grinned shyly as he regarded the Negress. “I don’ reckon my cookin’
will grade up to your’n, by all accounts, but I’m ready to larn.’

 
          
Lindy’s
smile threatened to absorb her ears; praise for her cooking was a short cut to
her good graces. Rod had made a friend.

 
          
At
the lawyer’s suggestion, they went into the house. It was of fair size,
consisting of the usual parlour, three other rooms, kitchen, and an adjoining
shack where the cook slept. It was substantially furnished but everything
showed signs of neglect. Milton read the faces of the women.

 
          
“Gilman
didn’t care
none
, an’ I had plenty to do,’ was his
excuse.

 
          
At
one room he hesitated before he opened the door. “This was Miss Mary’s,’ he
said. “Till he passed out, the Ol’ Man had it tended, but nobody
never
used it.’

 
          
“I
can see that later,’ the girl said hurriedly. The cook nodded understandingly,
turned the key, and gave it to her.

 
          
When
they emerged into the open again, Lindy chuckled. “We sho’ got a passel o’ work
ahaid, honey,’ she said. “An’ yoh gotta spen’ consid’able.’

 
          
Mary’s
startled gaze went to the lawyer; she had not thought of the financial side of
the matter. He smiled reassuringly.