Snake Vengeance

by Philip Harbottle

  ‘According to my calculations,’ Larry continued, reaching again into his satchel, ‘the fire will spread to destroy every outhouse — and that gives me plenty time. The wind’s the wrong way for the sparks to be carried to this ranch house, not because I’d have any objections to burning you out but because I’ve no wish to damage my own property — not to mention my will!’

  Galt shifted and stirred. He could not budge the thin but strong rope with which he was fastened, so he sat and watched to see what Larry would do next. His eyes glinted in fear as Larry removed a stick of dynamite.

  ‘I was going to use this to blow your safe, but now I’ve found a better use for it.’ Larry’s voice was cold and deadly.

  He tied the stick to a leg of the chair, right next to Galt’s own trussed left leg, and attached a fuse to it. He brought out a lucifer and waved it in front of Galt’s bulging eyes.

  ‘You’ve got a simple choice. Either you open the safe for me, nice and easy, or I’ll blow your leg off! If you agree to open the safe, just nod your head. Doesn’t matter to me which you choose. I’ve other sticks I can use to blow the safe afterwards!’

  He struck the lucifer, and bent towards the fuse.

  Frantic, Galt nodded his head vigorously. Larry smiled grimly, blowing out the lucifer as he straightened.

  ‘I’m freeing your right hand, Galt, so you can work the combination.’ He seized the back of the chair and heaved it forward, so that Galt was seated directly in front of the safe.

  With trembling fingers, Galt worked the combinations. The safe door swung open.

  Quickly, Larry retied Galt’s arm and heaved the chair clear. Then he struck another lucifer and peered inside the safe.

  He knew he was on the right track by the savage movements Galt kept making to free himself, and sure enough, under a pile of deeds which had probably been put in last, Larry came to his own letter and the will, both fastened together by a rubber band.

  ‘Just what I wanted,’ he said drily. ‘I know I’ve no mayor to sign the quit order, but I’ll have one by tomorrow, I’ll make sure he isn’t crooked like the last one. You’re all washed up, Galt!’

  ‘Who sez so?’ snapped a voice from the shadows.

  Larry turned his head, dropping his hand to his gun, then froze as a bullet struck the safe behind him.

  ‘Better not, Ashfield! Git your hands up!’

  Larry obeyed, the will and letter still in his left hand. The shadowy figure came across and took them from him, his remaining hand holding the gun. ‘Good job I looked in, Mr Galt,’ the man said, turning slightly. ‘I found the ranch door bolted on the inside, so looked through the window and saw this goin’ on. Simple enough to get in here with the window being a bit open. I waited until this guy was sticking his head inside the safe and he never saw or heard a thing.’

  The man put the letter and will in his shirt pocket and then used the hand to pull down the gag from Galt’s mouth. He produced a penknife and cut through the ropes binding his wrists and ankles to the chair. Larry, on his feet, stood watching narrowly in the fire-painted gloom.

  ‘Good work, Swainson,’ Galt said, gasping slightly for breath, and struggling to his feet. ‘Swainson is my foreman,’ he added, turning to Larry. ‘A smart man.’

  The foreman smiled and handed Galt the will and letter before taking his gun from Larry’s belt and handing it across also. Larry’s own guns he took away and tossed into another chair across the room.

  ‘How’s the fire?’ Galt asked briefly.

  ‘Bein’ brought under control, I guess. I came for you to report, and also to find out why you hadn’t come out t’see what was goin’ on.’

  ‘Get back on the job,’ Galt instructed. ‘I’ll take care of Ashfield personally.’

  The foreman nodded, crossed to the door and unbolted it. After he had left, Galt moved towards the oil-lamp, his gun still trained on Larry. One-handedly, he lighted it from the lucifers kept beside it.

  ‘Now, Ashfield, we’re back where we started.’ Galt pulled up the chair, easing his gross bulk into it. Evidently he was still feeling some discomfort from Larry’s earlier treatment of him.

  His gun was pointed unwaveringly at Larry’s chest.

  ‘You leave me in the interesting position of deciding how to dispose of you. You’ve only yourself to blame. Had you not came back, I might have left you to your own devices. As it is, I have to decide whether to simply put a bullet through you — or,’ his voice rose venomously, ‘strap that dynamite to you, as you threatened to do to me! I rather like that idea! Let me think about it … Take off that satchel with the dynamite, and lay it down — slowly! Try throwing it and I’ll shoot you dead now!’

  Larry obeyed, easing the strap from his shoulder, and letting the satchel slip to the floor. Galt watched his actions intently.

  ‘You are a trespasser, who has also committed arson. I have all the men in my outfit as witnesses, so no court can accuse me of murder.’ Galt’s bulging eyes glinted with anticipation.

  Larry was facing death and he knew it. All he could do now was to try and stall.

  ‘Before I die, Galt, how about satisfying my curiosity on a few points? How exactly did you tie in with Makin?’

  Galt gave a fleshy chuckle. ‘Playing for time, eh? Don’t want to die just yet? Very well — I rather like the idea of you knowing everything before you die … ’ he shrugged, shifting his bulk in the chair. The gun never wavered.

  ‘You can have the facts, since they won’t do you any good now. When your uncle died, Cliff Makin was his lawyer. Your uncle had such absolute faith in Makin — so he told me — that he fell into the habit of not even reading the many legal documents he had to sign from time to time. That was when Makin fixed it so your uncle unwittingly signed a document which contained a clause saying that, at his death, the disposal of his property and effects was at the discretion of Makin.’

  ‘Which the will offset?’ Larry asked.

  ‘Correct. Makin thought he was all set when your uncle died unexpectedly in an accident. I’d been in contact with Makin for some time — I was living in Montana then, as manager of a big trading concern — and was disposing of cattle amongst other things, which he had obtained from various parts of the country. Makin, in fact, was the brains behind an enormous rustling concern, operating so efficiently, and over such a wide area, that no authorities could pin him down. This ranch seemed to him a good spot to which many cattle could be brought. It’s large, well hidden, and central for all neighbouring territory. He couldn’t handle a repository for himself, having his lawyer’s business to watch, so he called me in. I took over, as an apparent new owner. The story Makin told was that I had loaned your uncle money and was taking it back in this fashion.’

  ‘And the gold mine?’ Larry asked grimly.

  ‘As to that, Makin increased the number of men working on it, dismissing all those who had worked for your uncle. Nothing crooked in the working of it. The gold is mined, sent to a bank in San Francisco under guard, and there changed into cash. It is in my name, since I am supposed to be the owner of this ranch.’

  ‘And you, Makin, and the mayor — and maybe one or two others, cashed in on the gold returns?’

  ‘It used to work that way,’ Galt smiled.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that whilst Makin was alive he could only get any money from gold returns by my signing the cheque. If I didn’t sign it he could — by finding the will of your uncle — throw me out of here. Thereby I would lose the mine, the ranch, and all the lot. His idea in making me the signatory for the cheques was to keep his own name out of it, even if it did put him partly in my hands. Still, with the hold he had over me, it was as broad as long. The mayor came in for cuts from time to time. When Makin was killed the picture changed. It left me as the owner of the mine, with no need to share the proceeds with anybody.’

  ‘Had I not stepped in and spoiled it for you,’ Larry said.

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ G
alt smiled. ‘But now that problem is about to be eliminated — ’

  Galt’s smile vanished abruptly as, with sudden, terrific force, Larry lashed up his right foot so it struck underneath the satchel at his feet. Not being very heavy, it flew upwards straight into Galt’s face. A split second later he flung himself with all his weight and power into Galt where he sat in the chair. Galt and the chair toppled over backwards before he had the chance to fire his gun.

  Galt’s head seemed to explode with the blow he received across the bridge of his nose. Larry dived his hand into Galt’s shirt pocket, endeavouring to drag out the will and letter — but the pocket was on the small side and his hand jammed. That gave Galt his chance. He hammered his fists into Larry’s face, pounding it ruthlessly; then he brought up his knees. Unable to help himself Larry rolled sideways. Just in time he blocked Galt’s arm as, his gun in his hand, he slammed it down fiercely.

  For a second or so it was a battle of sheer muscular strength between them, and Larry won it. Panting, he twisted Galt’s wrist until the gun dropped. Then he sprang to his feet, dragging Galt’s gross bulk up after him. A blow in the eyes sent Galt staggering towards the huge bookcase. He struck it, shattering the glass. Dazed, he swung away from it and fell into the nearby chair.

  Instantly he was up again, a gun in his hand. Larry realized sickly that it was one of his own two guns that the foreman had flung there earlier.

  ‘All right, you’re dying right now!’ Galt snapped; then for some obscure reason he broke off with an anguished scream, the gun dropping from his fingers. He reeled, clutching at his wrist. Larry stared in amazement, then his gaze dropped to a multicoloured coil sinking back on itself on the floor, its tail rattling in startled irritation.

  ‘ The snake !’ Galt shouted hoarsely. ‘ It got me … ’

  Larry snatched the gun from the floor where Galt had dropped it and fired at the reptile savagely, three times, before he got a direct hit. He looked away from the quivering, half-severed coils to where Galt was lurching by the fireplace, all the fight blasted out of him.

  ‘You should have had the catch fixed on that box of yours,’ Larry said grimly, taking the letter and will from Galt’s shirt pocket. ‘I’m not wasting any sympathy on you, Galt, after the way you treated Val this morning. And I don’t know anything about snakebites anyway.’

  ‘ The fire !’ Galt panted hoarsely, his face gleaming with sweat. ‘That’s what did it — it was scared of the fire. Got out through the bedroom window maybe — or by the door. I — I can feel the damned poison in my arm. Get — get my servant for me … ’

  He reeled backwards and slumped into the chair, holding his arm and whimpering like a gross baby. Ignoring him, Larry picked up his second gun and, without a word, turned to the window. He scrambled through it, dropped into the yard and looked about him. The fire was well under control, the flames diminishing — but the smoke was densely thick. Using it as cover, he made his way quickly across the yard, then suddenly he ran into a hurrying cowpuncher. He seized the surprised man by the scruff of the neck.

  ‘Listen you,’ Larry shook him fiercely, ‘your boss has been bitten by his pet rattler. I’m his enemy, but I don’t leave a man to just die, no matter how much I hate him. Get him a doctor, quick. Now blow.’

  Larry yanked out his gun and waited until the startled man had vanished in the smoke. Then, feeling his conscience was eased on this point, Larry hurried on his way to find his horse, and succeeded in getting clear without further hindrance.

  He was not pursued. Possibly the need to watch the fire, and the condition of Galt, demanded the men’s attention at the ranch. Whatever the cause Larry rode back through the night without the thunder of hoofs behind him, and he arrived back in the Bar-6.

  As he dismounted outside the ranch house he noticed that the lights were still on. Suddenly the door opened and Val King ran out to greet him.

  ‘Larry!’ she cried in joy. ‘You made it! We’ve been waiting up for you … I heard you riding up — ’

  Then the girl was in his arms, and neither spoke for a moment. Then together, they mounted the steps and went in through the open door, Larry’s arm about the girl’s waist.

  ‘Did you say ‘we’ just now, Val?’ Larry asked, puzzled, as the girl disengaged his arm gently and went ahead of him into the living room.

  To his astonishment there were two men seated at the table, drinking coffee. One was the girl’s father. He looked much better, despite the considerable bandaging about him. He waved cheerfully, smiling, but did not get up. To Larry’s further amazement, the second seated figure was Judge Gascoigne. He stood up, adjusting his steel-rimmed spectacles, his round face smiling pleasantly.

  ‘Hello, son! Haven’t seen you since the courtroom — but I’ve been hearing a mighty lot about you. How’d you make out with Galt?’

  ‘I got what I went for — but I had a rough time.’ Larry came over to the table, putting the will and letter upon it. Before he said anything further, he set fire to the letter over the oil-lamp and threw the last charred fragments into the empty fire grate.

  ‘Here’s some coffee,’ Val said, handing it across. ‘Now, what happened?’

  ‘Before I go into that, perhaps someone could tell me how come Judge Gascoigne is here?’

  ‘That was Val’s idea,’ King said, giving his daughter a proud glance. ‘After you left earlier tonight, she took the buckboard into town to the judge’s house. My foreman went with her for protection — ’

  ‘Not that we needed it,’ the girl put in, taking up the story. ‘We drove to the judge’s house, and … ’ she hesitated, looking at the judge with a slightly embarrassed smile.

  ‘She woke me up — and at the most ungodly hour!’ Gascoigne said. ‘Naturally, I’d heard all about your election, and what had happened in the saloon. Not to mention the shooting of Mayor Reuben. I’d made it my business to find out what was going on, considering the serious legal ramifications affecting the town. Doctor Barnes also happens to be a good friend of mine, and he’d told me what had happened to Miss King here, and her father. So when the young lady herself turned up with your foreman in the middle of the night, I realized that it was something important, and I invited them in. After she had explained her business, I decided to come back here with her, to await your return.’

  ‘Business? What business?’ Larry was still puzzled.

  With a smile, the girl handed over a folded document. Larry stared at it, and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘This is the notice to quit form I took for the mayor to sign. It was no good when he died, so I brought it back here … ’

  ‘Look at it again, son.’ The judge smiled. ‘Miss King brought it with her. You’ll see that I’ve signed it myself. It’s legal enough — when there isn’t a mayor in office — for a practising judge to do it. As this young lady evidently realized … ’

  ‘I read it in Dad’s law books,’ the girl smiled. ‘Remember you suggested I should read them?’

  ‘That was darned clever of you, Val, and I really appreciate it. But perhaps you’ve had a wasted journey … Listen, I’d better tell you my story now … ’ And Larry went into the details.

  When he had finished, King gave a grim smile. ‘I reckon Galt got all he deserved, son. Won’t be any need now to serve him notice to quit.’

  ‘If he dies, no,’ Larry agreed.

  ‘He’ll die,’ King said decisively. ‘An untreated rattler bite is fatal within a few hours, and it would have taken that before Doc Barnes could get to him — even assuming that puncher you told went to fetch him. Nope, I guess we can wipe Galt off the slate.’

  ‘Not necessarily, Dad,’ Val said. ‘If he were found in time by that half-breed servant of his, he might have saved him with the old Indian trick.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Larry asked.

  ‘Cut open the flesh at the point of the bite, suck out the poison, and then cauterize the wound.’

  ‘Never heard of it,’ Larry said. ‘Can�
��t say I’m sorry either. Anyway, I left Galt to look after himself.’

  Judge Gascoigne had been studying the will, whilst listening to Larry’s story. He laid it down on the table, alongside a letter he had looked at earlier, given to him by Richard King. It was the letter in which Galt had as good as admitted abducting Val. He adjusted his glasses as Larry and the others looked at him.

  ‘Well, Judge?’ Larry said. ‘Can you tell me how I stand legally in regard to throwing Galt out of the Double-L and getting him tied up for his various offences?’

  ‘I guess there’s nothing to stop you taking over the Double-L and the gold mine any moment you want, son,’ he said at length. ‘This will is sufficient authority for doing so, allied of course to the valid notice to quit you now have.’

  ‘And his crimes?’ Larry asked. ‘Assuming, that is, that he’s still alive to answer to them.’

  ‘As I said, as the situation stands at present, you can take possession of the ranch and the mine. This ‘abduction’ letter should be handed over to the Federals in Prescott. They’ll have to decide what to do about Galt. You can tell them of his depredations, of course, but without independent witnesses it may be difficult to get a conviction on all of the counts.’

  ‘And in the meantime,’ Larry asked, ‘do I give Galt time to recover before throwing him out? After all, he’s still suffering from the effects of a rattler-bite.’

  Judge Gascoigne gave a serious smile. ‘Want some advice, son? You kick Galt out here and now. The longer you leave him in peace, the more chance he gets to entrench himself. Considering the enormity of the man’s crimes — and that of his associates — there’s no longer any room for sentiment.’

  ‘OK,’ Larry agreed, picking up the notice to quit. ‘I’ll deal with him first thing in the morning, after I’ve ridden into town to get my deputies and some men together in case of any opposition.’

  ‘Before you do that, son,’ the judge said, ‘you’ll need to countersign the form yourself, as sheriff. That entitles you to order Galt to get out — unconditionally. If he doesn’t, make sure you have enough men to throw him out.’