Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (30 page)

BOOK: Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950)
13.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 
          
“Within
the Law, Mister Cullin,’ he said. “
Strictly inside the bounds
of my office.’

 
          
“Of
course, Judge,’ Cullin smiled. “Have I ever asked you to do otherwise?’

 
          
“No,
sir, you knew that such a request would be futile. This trouble-maker appears
to have so acted that the Law can now deal with him—effectively.’

 
          
“Well,
it’s up to you an’ the sheriff. I don’t think he can wriggle out as he did last
time.’

 
          
The
reminder was
unnecessary,
the Judge had not yet
forgotten the fiasco of the former trial. He frowned and said:

 
          
“We
will endeavour to see he does not, sir,’ which was the assurance the visitor
wanted.

 
          
Midnight
was near when a rider with a led horse paced noiselessly up to the S P
ranch-house, dismounted, and dropped the reins, leaving the animals a few yards
from the building. He had already ascertained that only one light was
showing—from the parlour. Cat-footed, he stepped on the veranda and peered
through the glass door. The girl he had come to find had fallen asleep over the
fire, an account book lay on the floor beside her. He noted, with satisfaction,
that her hat and coat were on another chair; this simplified matters. Pulling
his own hat well over his eyes, and covering the lower portion of his face with
his neckerchief, he stepped inside.

 
          
“Keep
yore tongue still an’ you won’t be hurt,’ he said, in a low tone.

 
          
Mary
awoke with a jerk, made to rise, and sank back again as she saw the muzzle of a
six-shooter within a few inches of her face.

 
          
“What
do you want?’ she managed to whisper.

 
          
“Obedience,
just that,’ was the reply. Put yore things on. We’re goin’ for a ride, an’
remember, one scream’ll be yore last.’ She knew it was useless to resist. Lindy
would be snoring, Milton, in his little shack next the kitchen, would hear
nothing, and Sturm had told her that the men would be out on the range till
dawn.

 
          
When
she was ready, he motioned her to the door, turned out the lamp, and followed;
she felt the barrel of the weapon against her spine. They reached the horses,
mounted, and set off, the man still holding the lead-rope. Almost at once, four
riders emerged from the shadows and fell in behind them.

 
          
It
was very dark, the few stars, pin-points of light in the sky, seeming only to
increase the gloom. Mary could form no idea as to the direction in which they
were travelling, but from the fact that progress was slow, and frequent turns
necessary to avoid black masses of foliage, she guessed they were breaking a
new trail through the brush.

 
          
The
captive, tired and despondent, rode like one in a dream, holding the reins
slackly, and making no attempt to guide the beast she bestrode. Fortunately the
animal was docile, sure-footed, and the shapeless dark bulk beside her was
watchful. She was almost sure this was Bardoe, and the possibility filled her
with dismay; she had heard much about him since their first meeting, none of it
to his credit.

 
          
She
became aware that he was speaking: ‘Too damned dark to risk the Quake tonight,
boys. Have to ride around her. Better be safe than sorry.’

 
          
“Yo’re
whistlin’, Boss,’ one of the men agreed.

 
          
“Shore
is one hell of a place,’ the leader remarked. “I hate crossin’ it; one wrong
step an’ it’s—curtains.’

 
          
The
dreary miles dropped behind, and then Mary became aware that they were
climbing, and that the stars were no longer visible. Also, the riders had
strung out in single file. She surmised, correctly, that they were mounting a
narrow pathway through a forest. The air grew colder, and there was a breeze
which increased as they mounted higher. Then she saw a light, and one of the
men said fervently:

 
          
“Home,
sweet home, boys, an’ I hope to Gawd grub’s ready.’ “Well, here we are,’ the
leader remarked, as he drew rein opposite the light, which proved to be an open
door.

 
          
Mary
got down, so stiff and fatigued that she would have fallen had he not placed an
arm about her. Instantly, she straightened and recoiled.

 
          
“I’m
all right,’ she said.

 
          
“You
done noble,’ he replied gruffly. “There’s warmth an’ food waitin’.’

 
          
“I
need sleep—that only. Where is my—prison?’

 
          
He
conducted her to a small room, with a floor of bare boards, and an unglazed
window only a cat could get through. The candle he lighted brought to view a
pile of blankets on a pallet bed, a chair, pail of water, and a torn but clean
towel. On one of the log walls a cracked mirror was hanging.

 
          
“Rough
quarters, ma’am, but we’d little time,’ the man said. “I ain’t tyin’ you up,
but remember that the Quake lies between here an’ the S P. The key o’ the door
will be in my pocket, so you can sleep easy.’

 
          
“Why
have I been brought here?’ she demanded.

 
          
“I
dunno,’ he lied. “All I can say is that if you make no trouble, you’ll meet no
trouble.’

 
          
The
key grated in the lock. She bathed her face, removed hat and coat, spread her
blankets, and lay down. Despite her determination to remain awake, she slept.

 
          
Bardoe
returned to the big room, where, at a long table, the men who had accompanied
him were eating, and washing the food down with generous doses of spirit. Four
others were smoking round the log fire. One was Gilman, who looked up with a
leer.

 
          
“So
you got her?’ he said. “I hear she was dressed ready, too. Yo’re allus lucky.’

 
          
“Lucky?’
chimed in Lamond from the table. “An’ Bull all fixed to play the part o’ lady’s
maid.’

 
          
Some
of them laughed, but their leader’s face was mirthless. “Beau, I hate to tell a
man he’s a damn fool twice in one night,’ he said, and looked at Gilman. “The
girl’s got grit; that ride would ‘a’ taxed a man some, but she never let out a
squeak.’

 
          
“Hell, Bull, whatsa use gittin’ sore over the dame?
Drait’s
no saint, an’ it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s feelin’ lonely.’

 
          
Bardoe
whirled on him, ferocity in every feature. “Listen to me,’ he barked. “If I
catch anyone near the gal’s door I’m shootin’ first an’ enquirin’ after. Get
me?’ His threatening gaze swept the room. “A complaint from her an’ Cullin’ll
go back on his bargain, an’ we’ll have a battle with the Big C on our hands.’

 
          
“Bull’s
right, boys, as usual,’ Lanty put in. “It ain’t worth the risk; me for the
dollars, every time.’

 
          
The
muttered agreement appeared to guarantee that the prisoner would be
undisturbed, but the leader was taking no chances, and when retired to his own
room, he did not sleep. His followers piled fuel on the fire, got their
blankets, and made
themselves
comfortable.

 
          
Bardoe,
in the darkness, sat listening to the snores which mingled with the crackling
of the logs. Presently he caught another sound—stealthy footsteps in the
passage. They paused, waited, and then went on. He slipped off his boots, drew
his gun, and noiselessly followed. He could hear someone fumbling at the girl’s
door, seemingly searching for the keyhole. The rustler raised his gun. The
report, deafening in the confined space, brought the sleepers from the big
room, one of them carrying a blazing brand from the fire.

 
          
“Hell,
what’s broke loose?’ Lanty cried.

 
          
“Somebody
after the girl,’ Bardoe replied.

 
          
By
the unsteady light of the improvised torch they surveyed the crumpled, supine
form of Lamond; a key was gripped in his right hand.

 
          
“Well,
I warned him,’ the killer said dispassionately.

 
          
“Where’d
he git that key?’ Lanty asked.

 
          
“One
o’ the other doors, I guess; thought it’d fit, which it might’ve,’ Bull said. “Take
him away—she’s stirrin’.’ He called out: “
It’s
awright, ma’am; a gun went off accidental-like.’

 
          
Two
of the men carried the limp body into an empty room. “He allus was a fool ‘bout
females,’ one of them said, as they dumped it on the floor.

 
Chapter
XX

 
          
Breakfast
was over in Shadow Valley, and the nester, with Sudden, had ridden down to the
gate, where Quilt was on duty. The foreman seemed worried.

 
          
“Hope
you ain’t keepin’ them S P steers long, Nick,’ he said. “Our feed is limited,
an’ they make me uneasy, anyway.’

 
          
“They’ll
be gone soon,’ was the reply. “Who in blazes is this acomin’?’

 
          
Sudden
studied the approaching bunch of riders, ten in all. “It’s the sheriff, an’
seein’ he’s fetched along plenty assistance, it spells trouble,’ he remarked.

 
          
“Get
the other boys, Quilt,’ Drait said. “It may come to a scrap, but we’ll hear
what he has to say first.’

 
          
Emboldened
by his superior force, Camort rode right up to the barrier. Drait, standing in
his stirrups, asked, “
What
might you want?’

 
          
“You,’
was the blunt answer. “I got a warrant.’

 
          
“Again?’
Nick said, with a shrug. “Don’t you ever get tired
o’ doin’ the same things?’

 
          
“This’ll
be the last time. Open up, we’re comin’ in.’

 
          
“You
don’t say?’ The rest of the outfit had arrived. “There’s on’y six of us, but
we’re good, an’ this wall ain’t easy to climb. Let’s have a look at yore
authority.’

 
          
The
sheriff handed up the document, and Drait read it.
“The old
charge—stealin’ cows from the S P. Dug up some fresh evidence, Stinker?’

 
          
“Yeah,
an’ we’re here to see it don’t run away.’

 
          
Nick
was studying the visitors.
“Half o’ you from the Big C.
So Cullin’s in this, huh?’

 
          
“Quit
foolin’ an’ let us in,’ the officer said. “I want
them
cows.’

 
          
“To put in as witnesses?’
Drait asked. “Now, I’ll give you a
choice; the herd stays where it is until the Judge makes an order, an’ I give
myself up, or—you can let yore wolf loose.’

 
          
Camort
considered the proposition. His main purpose was to secure the person named in
his warrant. He had talked boldly to Cullin, but faced with danger, he had no
stomach for it. His followers showed no enthusiasm for the task of scaling that
wall in the face of six skilled gun-wielders. In a battle his office would not
protect him. Sudden’s sardonic eye settled the matter; he seemed to be deciding
where to plant his bullet.

 
          
“Well,
that’s fair enough,’ the sheriff said.

 
          
Drait
turned to his companions. “Take notice I’m goin’ willin’ly. If I’m shot in the
back….’

 
          
“I’m
comin’ with yu, Nick,’ Sudden put in. “
Any
dirty work
an’ Midway will be shy a sheriff.’

Other books

Silenced by K.N. Lee
Arranged by Catherine McKenzie
Ratlines by Stuart Neville
Putting Boys on the Ledge by Stephanie Rowe
Aftershocks by Harry Turtledove
Paternoster by Kim Fleet
Brink of Chaos by Tim LaHaye