Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (26 page)

 
          
“Why
o’ course. Where’s my head?’

 
          
So
Sudden solved a problem which had been worrying him. For the trip he selected a
mount from the corral, leaving Nigger behind. Exactly why, he could not have
explained; the thought came and he acted upon it. Pilch, the storekeeper,
welcomed him joyfully, and business being soon concluded, Sudden perched
himself on the counter, swiped a handful of raisins from a nearby tub, and
prepared to chat.

 
          
“Nick
all right?’ Pilch began, and when the customer nodded, “Bout time he got his
rope
on that gal at the S P an’ won hisself a fine ranch.’

 
          
Sudden
took some more fruit.
“Good, these.
Add a dozen pounds
to our list, ol’-timer, Nick must ‘a’ forgot ‘em; the boys like plum duff.’

 
          
“You
seem partial to the plum part yoreself,’ Pilch retorted, with a meaning glance
at the puncher’s not too small paws. “Now stop side-steppin’—you heard what I
said.’

 
          
“I
don’t know a thing ‘cept Nick ain’t lost his appetite, which I’m told is a
sign.
Anythin’ new in town?’

 
          
“A hard-lookin’ stranger, mean-mouthed, carries a couple o’ sixes,
an’ claims to be waitin’ for someone.’

 
          
“An’
he doesn’t deal with yu.’

 
          
“How d’you—?
Well, yo’re right. I don’t sell liquor, an’
that’s all he buys. Been around ‘bout three-four days, an’ the quicker he
leaves the sooner we shan’t miss him.’

 
          
Sudden
laughed, purchased some tobacco, and went in search of a barber and a meal.
These matters attended to, he proceeded to Merker’s, failing to notice that a
pedestrian had stopped as he passed, turned, and followed him. Lukor had seen
the N D brand, and the somewhat sketchy description he had received seemed to
fit the rider. But he had to be sure. He entered, and saw his quarry at the
bar, talking to the proprietor. Strolling to an adjacent table he sat down.
Merker was speaking.

 
          
“I’m
tellin’ you, Nick’—he dropped his voice to little more than a whisper—‘is in
danger; somebody’s out to get him.’ “Sound reasonin’, but where’s the proof?’

 
          
“We’ll
get it, but in the meantime, don’t run risks.’

 
          
“Shore,
they cool the blood an’ hamper digestion,’ Sudden smiled. “Know the
genial-lookin’ gent at the table?’ He had noted the man’s entrance in the
mirror behind the bar, and recognised him from Yorky’s description.

 
          
“A
newcomer—been hangin’ about recent.’

 
          
Lukor
who had heard—as he believed—the saloonkeeper address the puncher as “Nick,’
was satisfied that he had found his man. An evil grin twisted his lips as he
reflected that soon he would shake the dust of this “prairie-dog settlement’
from his feet, easy in mind and rich in pocket. The victim was a big fellow,
but he expected that; Cullin had warned him. The two

 
          
guns
brought a sneer, they were the sort of bluff a nester
might put up. The low-drawn hat-brim concealed most of the face. He stepped to
the bar and spun a dollar. Picking up his change plainly revealed that the
little finger of his left hand was missing. Sudden’s eyes narrowed. Lukor
sampled his drink—a moderate one—and facing round on the company, said:

 
          
“Nesters
is
rank pizen.’

 
          
His
raucous voice rang through the room, the buzz of conversation ceased, and every
eye was turned upon him. The speaker went on:

 
          
“They
digs
their selves in among the ranges, which gives ‘em
plenty chances to steal cattle.’

 
          
This
produced no result, the least interested man in the place being the one who
should have resented it. Leaning against the bar, with one heel hooked over the
foot-rail, he was rolling a smoke, and taking unusual care.

 
          
The
gunman went on with greater confidence; it was going to be easy money.

 
          
“Sneakin’
coward an’ coyote—that’s yore nester,’ he rasped. “Any self-respectin’
c’munity’d string ‘em up on sight.’ The savage gibe evoked no response, and he
stabbed a finger at Sudden. “
You agreein’
with me?’

 
          
The
puncher was lighting his cigarette. His mind recalled “Whitey,’ a killer of the
same type whom he had been forced to slay during those hectic weeks at Windy. A
cold rage possessed him. This man had come to butcher, in cold blood, someone
he had never seen, and for mere gain. Well, he would not act, unless he must.

 
          
“Did
yu say somethin’?’ he asked indifferently.

 
          
“On’y
that
nesters is
cowardly thieves an’ oughta be wiped
out,’ Lukor snapped.

 
          
“Mebbe
yu know best,’
came
the mild answer. “I ain’t lost any
nesters.’

 
          
A
tinge of red in the bully’s cheeks showed that he was becoming really angry;
this stupid fool was making it difficult. He must depart from his usual
routine, and force the issue. “No, an’ you ain’t got no guts neither, you—’

 
          
With
the words, he had fallen into a crouch, his right hand hovering, claw-like,
over the butt of his gun. Sudden, watching the other hand, saw it drop, with
the speed of a striking hawk, to the holster on that side; the weapon was clear
of its container when fire jetted from the puncher’s left hip and Lukor
staggered. For an instant he kept his feet, and then, with a choking grunt,
lurched forward, and as his knees gave, collapsed on the sanded floor, his drawn
gun thudding beside him.

 
          
Sudden
knelt and raised his shoulders, disclosing a gaping wound at the base of the
throat. As he did so, the eyes opened, and a spark of recognition shone in
them.

 
          
‘Yo’re—not—Drait,’
the man muttered thickly. “Yo’re—
The
head fell to one
side, and another gunman had died—as did most of his kind—”with his boots on.’
Sudden straightened out the body, placed the hat over the face, and stood up.

 
          
At
that moment the sheriff came bustling in, elbowed a way through the crowd which
had swarmed round as soon as the shooting was over, and demanded:

 
          
“What’s
happenin’ here?’

 
          
“Nothin’—now,’
the puncher told him drily. ‘Yo’re in time to take charge o’ the corpse—as
usual.’

 
          
“I’m
in time to take charge o’ the killer, too,’ Camort retorted. “You know this
fella?’

 
          
“On’y
by hearsay,’ Sudden replied. “
Name of Lukor—knowed too as
“Finger-shy.”
His guns were for hire, an’ there’s a sheaf o’ sheriffs
further
East
honin’ to hang him. His dodge was to make
a show o’ gain’ for the right-hand gun an’ usin’ the left, in spite o’ the
missin’ finger. By all accounts, it fooled a lot o’ fellas.’

 
          
“An’
you knew about it, o’ course?’ Camort sneered.

 
          
“No,
he told me,’ Sudden said. “You see, he picked up some change so clumsily that
it was plain he wanted me to notice the crippled paw, an’ I wondered why.’

 
          
“Which
o’ you started the trouble?’ A dozen voices told him. “Awright, I ain’t deaf,’
he said testily.

 
          
“Why
shouldn’t you be?’ Pilch asked. “Gawd knows yo’re dumb.’

 
          
When
the laughter had subsided, Merker explained that the puncher had done
everything to avoid a clash.

 
          
“So
Green was—cautious, huh?’ the sheriff sneered. “Tried to duck out, in fact?’

 
          
Sudden
looked at him, and before those frosty eyes Camort’s assumed merriment died
swiftly.

 
          
“Listen,
yu makeshift,’ the puncher said. “I didn’t wanta fight that fella because I
knew he wasn’t after me, an’ his last words proved it. When you came in just
now it was Drait’s body you expected to see. One thing more: yu are a liar,
twister, an’ a yaller dawg. Got any ideas?’

 
          
The
challenged man had one—to save his skin. “I am also the sheriff,’ he reminded.

 
          
“Yu’ll
be the late sheriff unless you get out, pronto,’ was the scornful retort.

 
          
Camort
looked at the stony, threatening face, then at the grinning spectators, and
slunk out like a punished puppy. An ironical cheer followed him through the
swing-door.

 
          
Tidings
of the tragedy arrived at Shadow Valley before the chief actor returned. One of
Vasco’s riders had been in Merker’s, and running into Shorty on his way home,
told the story in detail. “An’ say,’ he finished, “
Don’t
git fresh with that Green person—who shore has a most misleadin’ monicker—an’
handles a six-shooter like he’d cut his teeth on one.’

 
          
“Fast,
huh?’ Shorty queried.

 
          
“Lightnin’s
that, but you can see it,’ the newsbringer replied. “There’s nothin’ wrong with
my eyes, but Green’s draw beat ‘em. An’ he had to hump hisself, that trick o’
goin’ for one gun an’ usin’ t’other was mighty bafflin’. An’ that’s Gawspel
truth. Well, gotta be pushin’ along—I’d just hate for anyone to beat me in with
this news.’

 
          
“I’m
aimin’ to be early my own self,’ Shorty grinned.

 
          
He
got his wish, and by the time Sudden arrived, the story was common property in
the Valley. Quilt opened the gate for him.

 
          
“Anythin’
fresh in town, Jim?’ he asked casually.

 
          
“Nothin’
to speak of,’ was the equivocal reply.

 
          
He
rode on, and Quilt scratched his head. “
Cool
?’ he
asked himself. “I guess ice on him’d on’y git harder. An’ he shore is closely
related to a clam.’

 
          
Having
unsaddled and turned his mount into the corral, Sudden was making for the
bunkhouse when Drait hailed him. The nester did not beat about the bush.

 
          
“So
you’ve been takin’ my place in Midway?’ he began.

 
          
“Shucks!’
was the disgusted reply. “This is the most chatter-some country I ever was in.
Did they tell yu I bought seegars in Merker’s too? Have one.’

 
          
Nick
lit up. “Then it’s true?’ he said.

 
          
“I
dunno what yu’ve heard,’ Sudden replied, and when he had been told, went on. “That’s
about the size of it.’

 
          
“How
come he took you for me?’

 
          
“We’re
both biggish, an’ I had my hat pulled down. Likewise, I was ridin’ one o’ yore
hosses.’

 
          
Drait
looked at him sharply.
“Anythin’ wrong with Nigger?’
“I’ve
been workin’ him middlin’ hard; he was due for a rest.’

 
          
“You
steered me off town. Were you lookin’ for trouble?’ “Never had to yet,’ Sudden
laughed.

 
          
Drait
digested this evasion in silence; he was no fool, and he knew that he again owed,
perhaps his life, to this chance-met comrade.