Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (5 page)

 
          
“He
went to the sheriff, an’ was asked if he could identify any o’ the visitors? He
couldn’t—all of ‘em had their faces covered an’ rode unbranded bosses. Havin’
made shore o’
this,
the sheriff went with Rawlin to
the valley. They found the boy’s body an’ his rifle, which had an empty shell
in it.

 
          
“Proves
he fired first an’ makes it a case o’ self-defence,” was Camort’s reasonin’. “I
can’t do a thing. You oughta
took
my advice.”

 
          
“I
met Rawlin in Midway; he was broke—heart an’ pocket; all he had was in this
venture. I bought the land, house, furniture, an’ stock, at his price; the
cattle went when they took away the planted calves. Now, the murderin’ curs are
after me, but they’ve another kind o’ man to deal with. The unsigned warnin’s
have happened along, an’ today—Eddie. I’m stayin’
put,
an’ fightin’ back with everythin’ I got until these greedy swine have learnt
their lesson.’

 
          
The
harsh voice ceased. There had been no attempt at oratory; it was just a man,
making a plain statement of fact, but the hard, cold eyes glinting through
narrowed lids, and knotted jaw muscles, told of passion sternly controlled.
Presently he went on: “I ain’t tryin’ to drag you boys into my quarrel, but
it’s
on’y fair no tell you how things are. If any or all o’
you want yore time, I’ll think no worse o’ you. Remember, throwin’ in with me
may mean bein’ outlawed, because the cattlemen own the Law, such as it is. If
you wanta think it over, tell me in the mornin’.’

 
          
He
leaned back in his chair, fashioned a fresh smoke, and waited, but not for
long. Quilt was the first to speak.

 
          
“I’m
stayin’ with my job, Nick, an’ thanks for the offer.’

 
          
“Me
too,’ Smoky said. Next to the foreman in point of age, he was of medium build
and placid appearance. Only those who knew him well were aware that when roused
he could develop all the attributes of a tiger-cat.

 
          
“I
dunno what this bean-pole is aimin’ to do, but I’m stickin’s to you like yore
skin, Nick, come hell or high water,’ Shorty announced.

 
          
The
bean-pole replied in kind. “Then I gotta come in; can’t have the fam’ly
represented by half a man.’

 
          
“It’s
the useful half anyways—the rest is just dead wood,’ the smaller twin snapped
back.

 
          
Lamond’s
lazy voice interrupted. “You can count on me.’ Only the girl at the head of the
table noted that his eyes were fixed meaningly, and not for the first time, on her.

 
          
Drait’s
relief was evident; save in one case—that of the last to speak—he knew these
men well, and could rely on them. “I’m mighty glad,’ he said. “It’s a big
gamble, with our lives as the stake, but with you boys backin’ me, we may win
out. Those killers o’ children will have six men to handle ‘stead o’ one pore
of pilgrim.’

 
          
Sudden
had listened attentively to the story, and studied each speaker in turn. A
whispered word to Yorky was answered by an emphatic nod.

 
          
“Mebbe
I’m wrong, but I figure
there’s
eight of us,’ he said.
Drait looked up quickly. “Meanin’ you an’ yore pal will chip in?’ he asked.

 
          
“Why
not?’ was the cool reply. “We’re adrift, an’ tired of it, but we ain’t joinin’
just for amusement. I’m peacable by nature, but a cowardly murder gets my
dander up. So if yu’ll have us…’

 
          
For
the first time since they had returned to the valley, the nester’s eyes lost
their dourness. “You’d better believe I’ll have you,’ he cried, and his tone
said more than mere words. “There’s somethin’ else I gotta mention—them five
hosses I fetched in. The big one is Bull Bardoe’s. I met up with the gent
yestiddy afternoon; he had me covered an’ meant to get me, but—I got him,
though he didn’t miss oy much.’ They could all see the livid mark on his cheek.
“The other four carry the S P iron, but Bardoe’s men were usin’ ‘em. They
ambushed, an’ were about to give me a dance on nothin’ when Jim an’ Yorky kinda
interfered. A fella named Lanty seemed to be in charge. Know him?’

 
          
“Yeah,’
Quilt growled. “He’s Bull’s right-hand man, an’ that’s the on’y right nhing
about him. Hope you swung the lot.’

 
          
“Shore
would if I’d knowed ‘bout Eddie,’ Drait said heavily.

 
          
“Bardoe
is no loss anyway,’ Quilt shrugged. “
Just a double-crosser,
workin’ with the cattlemen an’ robbin’ ‘em at the same time.’
He looked
at the clock.
“Time to hit the hay, fellas.’

 
          
As
they filed out, with a “
So
long, Nick,’ and a shy
‘Goodnight, ma’am,’ to the lady, Drait said to his foreman, “See that Jim an’
Yorky are comfortable; but for them, you’d all be ridin’ the grub-line
tomorrow.’

 
          
When
they had gone, Drait looked at the girl, white-faced, impassive as a statue. He
had said nothing about her, and though this was a relief, it had not lessened
her hostility. He was saving himself, she decided; his men, rough and primitive
as they were, would have despised him.

 
          
“They
all stood by me,’ he reflected, deep appreciation in his voice.

 
          
“To keep their jobs.’

 
          
The
sneer angered him. “Evidently loyalty means little to you. What are you goin’
to do?’

 
          
The
question stirred her. “Have I any choice?’ she retorted. “Why did you bring me
to this place of hatred, violence, and crime?’

 
          
“Eddie
was a surprise to me too,’ he said sombrely. “I did the best I could. You are
clothed, housed, have a servant to do yore work, and—I’ve given you my name.’

 
          
“The
name of a murderer, liable to be hanged or shot as an outlaw,’ she said
passionately.

 
          
His
face did not change, but his tone became harsh. “You can live in Midway until
my bein’ shot or hanged gives you back yore freedom, or remain here,’ he
replied. “An’ I don’t care one solitary damn which you choose.’

 
          
Drait
breakfasted alone, and gave an instruction to Lindy. “Miss Darrell’s had a
tryin’ time lately so don’t disturb her. She needs rest.’ The Negress nodded
understandingly. “Mighty purty gal, but she ain’t lookin’ noo brash.’

 
          
“Take
care of her,’ he said.

 
          
At
the bunkhouse Quilt got his orders: “Have lead-ropes fixed to those hosses I
brought in; I’m returnin’ ‘em this mornin’. Two men, with rifles, must guard
the valley entrance —we can’t afford to be caught nappin’ again; the rest can
continue the closing o’ the other end. I’d like for you to come with me, Jim.’

 
          
By
the time they had fetched their saddles from the house and reached the corral,
Smoky and Shorty had done the first job. Rope in hand, the nester stepped
through the gate and stood watching the circling band of nearly two dozen
excited animals. Then his lariat snaked out and the loop fell over the head of
a sturdy piebald. The thrower instantly dug his high heels in and flung his
weight back on the rope. The tightening of the noose told the horse that
resistance was useless, and it trotted demurely behind its captor.

 
          
“Neat
work,’ Sudden commented. “Me, I’m a lazy devil.’

 
          
He
gave a low whistle, and a great black chasing round with the others, stopped
abruptly, whickered, wheeled, and came pacing to where the puncher stood. Drait
studied it with the appreciative eye of an expert.

 
          
“He’s
a beaut,’ he said. “I’ll swap any two in the corral.’

 
          
“Yu
got some good ones, but I wouldn’t part with Nigger for the whole bunch,’
Sudden replied.

 
          
“I
didn’t expect you would,’ Nick said. “Hope you ain’t over-tamed him, or he’ll
be stole.’

 
          
“Go
to put a hand on him, but—watch out.’

 
          
Drait
stepped forward and reached. The horse’s ears flattened, the lips curled back,
and the great teeth clashed within an inch of the outstretched arm. Then, with
a squeal of rage, it reared; a moment and those terrible fore-hoofs would have
descended on the nester’s head with the force of pile-drivers.

 
          
“Steady,
boy,’ Sudden warned.

 
          
The
effect was magical; the ears became erect again, the teeth covered, the
wildness went from the eyes, and the threatening hoofs dropped softly back on
the ground. Drait caught up a breath he had lost.

 
          
“Killer,
huh?’ he said.

 
          
“He
could be
,
’ the puncher admitted, and told only a
half-truth, ‘He knows his friends—an’ mine.’

 
          
The
two cowboys accompanied them to the entrance; they were taking the first spell
as sentries.

 
          
“Not
much for the men to do,’ Drait remarked. “I ain’t got any cattle yet.’

 
          
They
had reached the frowning buttresses flanking the outlet, and Sudden pulled up,
his interest aroused by what he saw.

 
          
“There’s
plenty work here worth doin’,’ he said. “Why not close the gap with a stone
wall—hosses could drag the larger rocks into position—an’ have heavy double
doors, secured by bars, in the centre. It’d stop cattle from gettin’ out, an’
visitors from comin’ in without permission.’

 
          
Drait
slapped his thigh.
“Jupiter!
That’s an inspiration,
Jim,’ he cried. “Shorty, fetch Quilt; we’ll set about it right away.’

 
          
The
foreman was soon on the scene, and Drait explained the idea. Quilt was
enthusiastic.

 
          
“Bully,’
he beamed. “It’s up to us to make a good job of a good notion, Jim. We’ll build
her plenty high, with a platform inside so we can look over,’ he chuckled. “Leave
it to me, Nick; we’re startin’ now; t’other end can wait.’

 
          
Taking
the lead horses, Drait and his companion went on their errand. They had gone less
than a mile when the nester twitched the loop from the Bardoe animal, and smote
it across the rump.

 
          
“Mebbe
find its way home, an’ if it
don’t
, I ain’t carin’,’
he said. “What you think o’ the outfit?’

 
          
“A
fine crowd, I’d say.’

 
          
“Hand-picked—brought
‘em with me.’

 
          
“Includin’
Lamond?’

 
          
“Why,
no, he’s come recent—joined me just after I bought the valley.’

 
          
“At
his
suggestion, or your’n?’

 
          
“He
was out of a job, an’ asked for one,’ Drait explained. “Know anythin’ against
him?’

 
          
“Never
seen or heard o’ the fella,’ was the careless reply. “He just
don’t
seem to fit in.’

 
          
Too
much of a dude for them rough-necks o’ mine,’ Nick laughed. “They’ve been
raised on raw meat.’

 
          
Sudden
laughed too, and dropped the subject. He noticed they were travelling north,
and asked a question. “We’ll get rid o’ these broncs first off,’ Drait told
him. “
The hombre yo’re
goin’ to see to is the foreman,
an’ he’s runnin’ the ranch till the owner can be found. 01’ Sam Pavitt passed
in his checks ‘bout a year ago, leavin’ all his property to his on’y child—a
daughter, or her issue. She ran away near twenty-five years back—he was a hard
man to live with, by all accounts-an’ never returned. His lawyer is tryin’ to
trace her.’