Shoot-out at Split Rock (19 page)

In a lonely, tumble-down cabin to the north, lit by a guttering candle, two people were facing one another. Carol Eden, her hands bound, leaned against the wall, contemptuous, defiant.

Baudry, seated upon a box, regarded her with a fiendish smile. He had sworn to have her and here she was. Soon they would be away—^headed for civilization, and by the time they reached it... Affairs had not gone quite as he had planned, but with the giri, the herd money, and the mortgage on the S-E in his possession, he would take most of the tricks. But first he must deal with the half-breed, the man who had jeered at and taunted him.

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to a second box on the other side of the table.

"I prefer to stand," Carol replied. "I can keep farther away from you."

TTie man smiled tolerantly. "When you're my wife, you'll know me better," he said.

"Impossible!" she cried. "What else are you besides, Uar, cheat, and coward?"

This time the scorn in her low vibrant voice seared him. He stood up and stepped towards her, slowly, Uke some wild beast about to pounce on its helpless prey. Staring at him with fear-wide eyes, she backed away until she could retreat no more. The gambler's gaze dwelt gloatingly on the Ussome, rounded form.

"I'm a man who can tame women and make them do as I wish," he said softly. "In a httle whUe you'll come creeping to me for a kind word and be happy if you get it, though now you dislike me."

The nearness of her intoxicated him and he laughed evilly as his hands darted out, prisoning her arms. The feel of the firm flesh beneath his fingers fired his blood and sent his hot lips questing for hers. Mad with terror and loathing, she fought to avoid them, but bound, and held in that grip of steel, could do little. The brute's liquor-

den breath sickened her. Drunk with desire, he tore open ;r shirtwaist and rained kisses on her bared neck.

"I'll teach you," he panted thickly.

And then, when she had given up hope, he flung her olently from him. A horse had whinnied outside.

Dazed and weak, Carol saw her assailant fall into a half-ouch, his gun drawn, death in his eyes. She tried to shout warning but no sound issued from her dry, throbbing roat. The door was flung open, Baudry fired, and the jwcomer stumbled, coughed, and shthered to the floor, a stol dropping from nerveless fingers. After a moment's luse, the killer bent over him.

"Rogue?" he muttered. "Wonder how he got wise? Well, at's a debt I was afraid I'd have to leave unpaid. Where e hell is Navajo?"

"Right here," the half-breed repUed from the doorway, id stepped noiselessly into the cabin. His mean eyes rest-1 callously on the supine form of his late leader. "That ives me a job but 1 ain't thankin' you."

"Did you get Eden?"

"I reckon—'less his head's made o' rock," the ruffian phed. "The crack I gave him would 'a' spUt the skull of 1 ox."

"Hope you haven't overdone it," Baudry said viciously. [t will hurt him more to Mve."

"Mebbe, but that fella Sandy came out o' the saloon with m an' fought like a wildcat. We corralled the cash."

Dull despair took possession of the prisoner. Her ither injured, probably dying, and Sandy . ..

"You did well, Navajo," the gambler said. "If we'd got lat devU, Sudden, it would be a clean-up."

"I'll tend to him," the other said darkly. He threw a )11 of bills on the table. "We spht that two ways an' then ;ttle about the gal."

Baudry jerked round as though he had been spurred. 5he goes with me," he answered harshly.

"Mebbe, after we've cut the cards for her," Navajo relied.

"Have it your way," the gambler said quietly. He pro-uced a pack of cards and squared them on the table. Help yourself. Highest wins. Sudden death."

"You said it," the half-breed assented.

The fingers of his left hand closed over the cards, grip>-ping them gently. A touch told him they had been prepared—the ends and sides of some of them treated with a file, so that the man who knew what had been done could cut high or low as he desired. He knew now why Baudry had given in, but it made no difference to his plan. He hesitated only for an instant and then lifted the whole pack and hurled it in the other man's face.

"Cold deck me, would you?" he cried, and snatching out his gun sent two bullets into the gambler's breast.

Grimacing horribly, hands reaching bUndly for support, the stricken man collapsed Uke a house of cards. Navajo's smile was that of a demon.

"Sudden death it was," he said hoarsely, and turned to the girl, only to find her unconscious upon the floor.

Stufiing the roll of money into a pocket, the half-breed stood gloating over his captive for a moment or two, his lewd eyes dwelling on the graceful curve of her neck and the rounded white shoulder which Baudry's bnitahty had left exposed.

"A pretty piece—an' mine—now," he exulted evilly. "Well, beautiful, we'll be on our way."

Lifting the hmp form, he carried it to where the gambler's horse was hitched outside the hut, and roped it to the saddle. He was about to mount his own beast when he remembered something; both the dead men would have money. He went back and was kneeling by the side of Baudry when a word rang out like a pistol shot

"Navajo!"

Sudden was standing in the doorway, a gun leveled from the hip. The icy, passionless voice fell on the outlaw's ears like a death knell. Though he had bragged to Baudry, he feared this cold-eyed young cowboy who had so quickly gained a reputation as a gunman. "Sudden death!" The phrase recurred to him with a new and ominous significance. Bitterly he cursed himself for his delayed departure; but for his greed ...

Navajo rose slowly to his feet, his devious mind searching for a way out.

"These hombres 'pear to have bumped each other oflf,** he said. "I was just seein' if they was cashed."

Still keeping the man covered, Sudden picked up

Rogue's gun; it was fully loaded; the butt of Baudry's weapon could be seen protruding from its shoulder holster. He looked at the half-breed.

"Rogue reloaded an' Baudry put his gun back after they was killed," he said sarcastically.

"I was guessin'—on'y bin here a few minutes an' found *em like this," the man replied sullenly.

"So it wasn't you who carried Miss Eden out?"

"Yeah, I was meanin' to take her back."

"Tied to the saddle?"

"Couldn't do no other way—she'd fainted."

"An' the herd money. Takin' that back too?"

"Dunno nothin' about it."

Sudden laughed scornfully. "Yo're a poor liar; Navajo," he said. "Hand over yore gun,"

The rufl&an stiffened. He remembered now that he had fired twice and had not replaced the charges. An examination of the weapon would produce apparently conclusive evidence and ... During the conversation he had been edging backward an inch at a time. Now, with a quick sweep of one arm, he knocked the candle from the table and dropped prone to escape the expected bullet. None came, only a taunting voice:

"Fine! Figured you'd play it that way when I saw you sneakin' back. Don't waste no shots, Navajo; you on'y got four."

Sudden was surmising, but correctly, and the outlaw gritted his teeth at the reminder. He must be sure, and how could he be in that blinding blackness? For there was no light; even the tiny unglazed window could hardly be located, so dark was the night outsidt. Flat on his belly the half-breed lay motionless, waiting for some movement which might betray his enemy's whereabouts.

An idea came to him —Baudry's gun. If he could obtain that and fire four shots, Sudden would deem him defenceless, and .. . He knew the direction in which the body lay and began to make his way toward it. Hardly daring to breathe, he crawled on inch by inch, feeling cautiously for obstacles. At length his groping fingers touched a stiU face, traveled downward and found a shoulder holster— empty. He stifled the curse which rose to his lips, and edged away.

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"You ain't a quick thinker, Navajo," the taunting voice said. "I've got Baudry's gun."

In his rage and disappointment the half-breed fired at the spot where he judged the speaker to be. An answering spit of flame stabbed the gloom and a buUet nicked his neck. The voice spoke again:

"Near thing, Navajo. A mite to the right an' you'd be travelin' the one-way trail."

The incident shook the outlaw's confidence. Hell! if the fellow could see in the dark... And he had wasted a shot, for though the silence was profound again he knew that he had missed. Lying there in the stillness so pregnant with danger, he flogged his faculties to find a device to extricate himself and, at length, hit on a plan. It would be a desperate risk but he resolved to take it. And he must act at once, for he knew that his courage was ebbing; the jeering devil waiting so patiently to kill him was his master. Rising swiftly to his knees, he fired and swayed away instantly. Sudden aimed at the flash, heard the thud of a falling body, and a deep groan. Five—ten minutes passed and no sound came. The cowboy moved a foot noisily but nothing happened.

"Looks hke I may've got him," he muttered.

Groping on the floor, he found the candle and Hghted it. Navajo was lying on his side, his face buried in the bend of his left arm, his right arm hidden under his body. His gun lay some feet away. In the uncertain light he appeared to be dead. Sheathing his pistol, Sudden stopped to turn the body over. Instantly it came to life, the right hand darting upward in a vicious stab. With a hghtning snatch the cowboy clutched the wrist, wrenched it aside, and springing back, pulled and fired. Navajo, his face ferociously distorted in a murderous grin, sank back. This time there was no doubt

Chilled to the bone by the narrowness of his escape, Sudden leaned against the waU. Had he delayed an instant, or missed the deadly thrusting wrist, eight inches of steel would have ripped him open. He drew a long breath, and wiped the cool moisture from his forehead. Then he looked at the dead man with an odd respect.

"Didn't figure you had the savvy for a play like that,* he mused.

He searched for and secured the stolen money, and then the sound of a galloping horse straightened him up, gun in hand. It was Sandy who thrust open the door.

"Jim, you aU right?" he called.

"Yeah, an' I'm lucky," Sudden reproved.

"Where's Carol?" the boy asked.

"Outside—tied to a hoss," Sudden told him, adding grimly, "I've been too busy to turn her loose."

As they bent over Rogue, his eyeUds flickered and his lips breathed a question.

"She's safe," Sudden assured him.

Sandy went out and found that Carol was conscious again. He untied and lifted her down. She asked about Rogue.

"He's badly hurt," the boy told her.

"I must go to him," she said.

"It's—pretty terrible—in there," he demurred.

"It would have been more terrible—for me—if he hadn't come," she cried, and to that Sandy could say nothing.

A spark of life shone in the dying outlaw's tired eyes when she entered the cabin. Kneeling by his side she strove to thank him, sobs choking her.

"It don't matter," he said.

"Can't I do anything?" she asked hopelessly.

A httle shake of the head, and then, doubtfully. "Once I had a lass who would be about yore age. .. ."

With swift comprehension, she bent over and pressed her lips to the furrowed brow of the man who had killed and robbed, yet given his life for her.

"It's too good—an end—^for a—rogue," he murmured.

The ghost of a smile passed over his hard mouth and that was all. Sandy led the weeping girl out of the hut, clumsily trying to comfort.

Through the black velvet of the night they rode back to town. Sudden led the way, his thoughts dwelling on the dead outlaw. Though his meeting with the man had meant nothing but misfortune, he had liked him, and in some way he could not understand, was conscious of a sense of loss. The pair behind were riding close together, and Sudden smiled a httle bitterly at the reflection that he was soon to lose another friend. Had Rogue lived....

It was not until the morning that the rancher was sufficiently recovered to hear the full story of the previous night's happenings.

"By heaven, Jim, all the herd money wouldn't pay what I owe you," he said. "But you'll be comin' back to the S-E with me, an'—"

A shake of the head interrupted hun. "I'm obliged," the cowboy repHed, "but yore memory ain't workin'."

"Shucks! I got friends who can puU ropes," Eden said.

Sudden's grin was sardonic. "I got enemies who can do the same an' mebbe my neck would be in a loop o' one," he pointed out. "No, seh, I'm shore fond o' Texas but I ain't honin' to end my days there—^yet."

Eden's gaze went to Sandy. "I'm told you kept them rats from finishin' me off," he went on. "You must 'a' had a change o' heart since the Colorado."

"Hold yore bosses, seh, an' take a squint at these," Sudden interposed, producing a pair of beaded moccasins. "Found 'em in Navajo's saddle bag; they fit those tracks I measured. An' there's this."

The rancher took the proffered slip of paper. "Baudry's fist an' signature," he muttered, and read the contents aloud: " 7 have today bet Navajo one thousand dollars that my friend, Sam Eden, gets his herd through and comes safely back to the S-E: "

The document bore the date the drive started.With knitted brows Eden studied it; then the sinister import dawned upon him.

"Why, he's offerin' the fella thousand cold to put me outa business," he burst out.

"You said it," Sudden agreed. "An' when he failed to turn the trick hisself he bribed Lasker."

The old man looked at Sandy. "That appears to let you out," he said. "S'pose I'll have to take yore word."

This ungenerous surrender brought a reproachful "Daddy!" from his daughter, and an expression of angry scorn on the young man's face.

"I ain't offem' it," he retorted. "Think what you please."

Aunt Judy flung herself into the discussion with her usual impetuosity. "Sam Eden," she said sharply, "if I was yore daughter—even by adoption—I'd box yore stubborn

ears." She slanted a bony finger at Sandy. "Do I have to tell you who that boy is?"