Read Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1) Online

Authors: Frederick H. Christian

Tags: #cowboys, #western fiction, #range war, #the old west, #piccadilly publishing, #frederick h christian, #oliver strange, #sudden, #the wild west

Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1) (20 page)


Yu reckon that was wise, Jim?’ Dave asked; ‘He might go
straight to warn them yo’re comin’.’


No,’ Sudden told him. ‘Parr is finished, an’ he knows it. He
ain’t worth the price of a bullet. Let him go—we got bigger fish to
fry.’

Shortly
afterwards, the two men mounted their horses. Dave shook hands
soberly with his friend.


Good luck, Jim,’ he said. Sudden smiled and moved off, leaving
his friend watching as the tall, spare form of the man who had
become his friend disappeared on the black horse into the blacker
night.

 

Chapter
Fourteen

 

It took
Dave four hours’ straight riding to reach the Slash 8, and his hail
was answered at the ranch house by Gimpy and Grace Tate, who
appeared on the porch. Swaying slightly in the saddle, dust-caked,
his shirt in tatters and the blood seeping slowly from his opened
wound, Dave looked like the survivor of a massacre.

The
others came tumbling out of the bunkhouse, and tender hands helped
Dave down from the saddle. He was taken into the house, where Grace
Tate, dismissing his protests with a wave of the hand, took care of
his wounded shoulder, exclaiming softly, while Dave related the
events of the day in terse, rapid sentences. When he came to the
events of Parr’s perfidious ambush, threatening sounds came from
one or two of the Slash 8 men, and Shorty exclaimed, ‘Why, the
dirty … !’

Dave
found himself unable to ignore the cool touch of Grace Tate’s hands
as she efficiently dressed his aching shoulder. To occupy his
thoughts, he asked those assembled whether anything had happened
during his and Green’s absence.

Gimpy
nodded grimly, and receiving Grace’s permission to tell the story
with a nod from her, he told Dave that he had ridden into Hanging
Rock with Grace that morning to pay off their mortgage. When they
had arrived at the bank, de Witt had received them with scant
courtesy, and had insisted upon Sheriff Brady’s being present
before he would discuss the mortgage on the Slash 8 with
them.


What on earth would Brady need to be there for?’

In
sentences no less terse than those Dave had himself used, Gimpy
told him of the events which had transpired in de Witt’s office.
Brady had huffed in and taken his place beside the banker. Grace
laid the money on the banker’s desk and asked him to count it. He
did so, and then looked at her with raised eyebrows.


There are only fifteen hundred dollars here, Miss Tate,’ he
said, surprise in his voice.

Grace
was nonplussed by his statement, and said as much. ‘I was under the
impression that fifteen hundred dollars was the amount involved,
Mr. de Witt.’


Then you have been misinformed, madam. That is the reason that
I asked Sheriff Brady to come along.’ He delved into a drawer of
his desk and produced a piece of paper. It was notepaper of the
Hanging Rock Bank, and was in the form of a loan agreement between
George Tate and the Bank. ‘You will see that the amount involved
is, in fact, four thousand five hundred dollars,’ the banker told
them coolly. ‘Surely you knew that?’


No, I did not, and I do not,’ Grace said, equally coldly.
‘I

am sure
there is some mistake, Mr. de Witt.’ f


That is your father’s signature, is it not, Miss Tate?’ asked
de Witt. Grace nodded dumbly, and he continued, ‘Surely you must
have known that the amount was larger than fifteen hundred dollars?
You must have realized that I should hardly have called your
mortgage for so small an amount?

Stricken
to silence by this revelation, Grace had simply stood there while
the banker told her that, while he had been fully prepared to wait
until she had sold her cattle to realize the money to pay off her
mortgage, she would appreciate that he could no longer
wait.


I am afraid that I shall have to foreclose on your mortgage de
Witt said with finality, ‘unless you can raise the other three
thousand dollars inside the original deadline. I am a man of honor,
Miss Tate. I offered your man Green ten days. That concession still
has forty-eight hours to run. I give you until then to raise the
money. Failing that, I will ask Sheriff Brady to foreclose
immediately upon the Slash 8, and sell the ranch in public auction.
Sheriff?

Brady
had stepped forward, pompous and self-important. ‘Forty-eight
hours,’ he snapped. ‘Then the Slash 8 goes up for sale.’

Gimpy
and the mistress of the Slash8 had left town like thieves; they
both knew that there was not the slightest hope of their being able
to raise three thousand dollars within the deadline so callously
set by the banker.


So there we are,’ Gimpy said. ‘Yu ain’t the on’y one been
havin’ fun.’


Brady can’t sell off the ranch,’ Dave said. ‘It ain’t
legal!’


That’s the worst part of it, Dave,’ Grace told him sadly. ‘It
is legal. Every bit of it is entirely legal and we cannot oppose
it.’


I don’t swaller that so easy, ma’am,’ Dave said. ‘There’s a
nigger in the woodpile here someplace.’


Oh, Dave, if only that were true! As it is, I feel I shall
have to sell the ranch to Mr. Barclay.’


Sell to Barclay? Never!’ snapped Dave. ‘Yu can’t do
that!’


David, I must. Barclay would at least pay what the ranch is
worth. If I wait until the mortgage is foreclosed, I will not get a
penny for the ranch; I’ll lose everything.’


That’s what I can’t figger,’ Dave mused. ‘Why should Barclay
pay yu full price for the ranch when, if he waits forty-eight
hours, he can get it for a song?’

Grace
flushed, then, chin high, admitted, ‘There was … a condition.
Zachary Barclay asked me to marry him.’

Dave
stood up, shaking off the hands which tried to restrain
him.


Marry that skunk? Yu can’t do that!’ His voice was thick with
anger.


Oh?’ bridled Grace Tate. ‘And why not, may I ask?’


Because yo’re goin’ to marry me, that’s why!’ Dave snapped,
and then, realizing what he had said, muttered half defiantly, his
face burning, ‘That is … if yu’ll have me. When all this is …
over.’

Grace
Tate looked at him, her eyes shining. He took her by the shoulders,
and for a moment the pair of them were oblivious to the other
occupants of the room.


Miss Grace, I had no right to say that,’ Dave said, ‘but I do
have a right to say what I’m goin' to say now. I’m ridin’ for South
Bend, an’ I’m bringin’ Judge Pringle back here. No matter what
happens, no matter what Barclay offers yu, promise me yu’ll stall
him off, do nothing, until I get back with Judge Pringle. Will yu
promise me that much?’

Grace
nodded, raptly, and in the next moment, suddenly realized that she
and Dave were anything but alone. Dave realized it simultaneously,
and without another word, stumbled out of the house. In a moment,
they heard the sound of his horse’s hoofs receding down the river
trail. To cover her confusion, Grace turned to the crew and told
them, ‘I am going to do what he said.’


That Eggers, ma’am,’ said Gimpy. Whereupon Grace flushed an
even deeper scarlet and lied from the room.

The
towering face of the mesa frowned down on the parched desert floor
below. Moving along the foot of the cliff, Sudden felt the strength
of the sun, like a heavy weight on his shoulders, but his consuming
interest in the whereabouts of the outlaw hideout effectively
diverted his mind from his own discomfort. Presently, the canyon
wall began to veer away to the left, and he found himself in a
long, narrow canyon which grew narrower towards its far end about a
mile distant, and which looked, from Sudden’s viewpoint, like a
complete dead end. Above him, tumbled rocks took the form of a
lizard.


Wonder if they keep a lookout posted? Sudden mused.


More’n likely. Better take no chances, although I shore don’t
feel much like walkin’ in this heat.’

He
dismounted, and tethering Midnight to a clump of twisted thorn
where there was shade and the horse could not be seen by any
passing rider, Sudden took off his boots and began the slow
approach towards the end of the canyon. By the time he reached the
box wall an hour later, his feet were blistered and cut from the
hot sharp rocks and the burning sand; but he disregarded these
minor irritations as his keen eyes scanned the tumbled rock
formations towering around him.

'Now, if
I wanted to keep my eye on this canyon, I reckon I’d I find me a
spot with some shadow,’ he mused. ‘Which means on that slope over
there.’ He lay prone on the rocks and slowly, methodically, let his
eyes range foot by foot across the tumbled terrain. Lizards
scuttled across the rocks as he lay motionless.

Once, a
black shadow flickered over the rocks as a prowling buzzard weighed
its chances of a meal. It veered off when Sudden rolled over to one
side; this was no dead animal, and the ugly carrion bird is too
much of a coward to attack anything which can defend itself. A half
hour went by; an hour. After another fifteen minutes, Sudden’s
patient scrutiny of the terrain was rewarded. About fifty yards
higher up on the canyon wall, a shifting gleam of sunlight on metal
revealed human presence.


On yore own are yu?’ wondered Sudden, aloud. ‘Well, we better
go look; I don’t guess they’re expectin’ trouble,
though.’

Inch by
inch, foot by careful foot, placing his weight carefully to avoid
dislodging a stone or starting a small slide which would reveal his
presence, the Slash 8 man moved in a large circle around and above
his unsuspecting quarry. Presently, flattened against a high round
pillar of rock, the hunter was rewarded by the sound of metal
scraping against stone, a man coughing. Moving carefully-for he was
well aware how sound can be deflected off rock and lead the hearer
into misplacing its origin, Sudden closed in on the guard. Prone on
his stomach, he peered around the edge of the rock, and was
rewarded by the sight of a burly back. The guard was hunched behind
a natural parapet of rock which commanded a view of the entire
canyon opening. One glance was sufficient to tell the Slash 8 man
that the guard was asleep. Moving like a shadow, Green drew his .45
and in a blur of movement closed in on the man and crashed the
barrel of his gun down upon the drooping head. The guard keeled
forward like a pole—axed steer, and a muffled snore emerged from
his slack mouth. Sudden grinned.


Seemed like a shame to wake yu up,’ he murmured. Quickly and
efficiently he bound the man’s hands and feet, then began his
descent towards the hidden aperture to the valley beyond which,
from this vantage point, it could be plainly seen.

Back on
the canyon floor, however, the screening brush effectively hid any
trace of the narrow fissure in the rock walls which opened up into
the hideout. Sudden shook his head in admiration.


Shore is a dandy spot,’ he told himself. ‘A man could ride out
here live times a week an’ still nor spot it.’

Midnight
was waiting patiently where his master had tethered him; he greeted
Sudden’s arrival with a quiet nicker and tossed his head
impatiently when Green mounted.


Honin’ for action, are yu?’ grinned Sudden. ‘Well, where we’re
goin’, yo’re shore likely to get some. Git along, yu ol’
crowbait.’

The
faint, almost indistinguishable trail led among tall thorn trees
and beneath the gloomy face of the rock cliff. Nothing moved in the
canyon except the horse and the rider; here and there a slow
seepage of water had marked the red rocks, but no birds sang in
this dark place. Ahead, however, was a bright shaft of sunlight,
and in a few moments, Sudden rode into a wide clearing. He looked
about him with interest. The meadow was not more than half a mile
wide, and on both sides, steeply sloping shale hills ran to meet
almost vertical buttes of red sandstone. The valley was perhaps a
mile and a half long, and almost directly through its centre ran a
clear, burbling stream of mountain water. All around were sleek,
well-fed cattle; the little valley was crowded with
livestock.


She shore is a natural corral,’ Sudden thought. ‘An’ I’m I
bettin’ that these dogies ain’t as near home as they oughta
be.’

Turning
the horse, he cantered over to one of the nearest bunches. A quick
glance showed him that the brands were all new; all of them were
unknown to him: Box 48, Diamond 8 were two he saw. His eyes
narrowed, and controlling Midnight with his knees, he unlooped his
lariat from the saddle pommel.

Moving
quickly in among the herd, he smoothly cut out a two-year-old and
neatly dropped his loop about its ears. No sooner had the loop
settled than Midnight, well-trained cowpony that he was, stopped
dead in his tracks, and the steer catapulted over as the line
tautened. Sudden was already on the ground and ran down the line,
flipped a loop over the cow’s hindquarters before it could rise.
The beast lay bellowing in protest as Sudden examined its brand
more closely.


Botched the job,’ he told himself. ‘Runnin’ iron, for shore. I
wonder whose brands these are?’

It was
obvious whose they had been; the Diamond 8 was a continuation of
the Slash 8 brand. A few deft strokes, a new brand. Box 48 could be
easily made from Box B. Who owned I these brands?

A frown
creasing his forehead, Sudden remounted, and a shake of his arm
released the loops which held the steer prisoner, and pointed
Midnight towards where the canyon curved slightly to the north.
When he reached the bend, he pulled Midnight to a stop and
dismounted. Ahead, perhaps fifty yards away, stood a small cabin.
Smoke spiraling from its tin chimney attested to the fact that the
house was occupied, and Sudden settled down behind a clump of
bushes to wait for darkness.

An hour
went by; then two. The sun was now starting its de- scent and its
lengthening rays threw long shadows under the eastern walls of the
canyon. Two men came out of the house; one of them went to a small
corral behind the house, and a fourth came out and stood on the
porch. The man who had gone into the corral came out leading a
saddled horse; and all four stood talking together for a moment.
Sudden half-rose; it looked as if one of the outlaws was about to
ride out, perhaps to relieve the guard whom he had stunned. He
edged backwards, around the rock face, his eyes still upon the
house and the men outside it. A jarring voice stopped him in his
tracks.


Come a-visitin’, have yu?’

And then
he knew that there had been a second guard.

 

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