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

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Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1) Page 6

by Frederick H. Christian


  ‘Can’t help his looks, I suppose,’ was Sudden’s unspoken thought, ‘but if I didn’t know better, I’d say he had some Injun blood in him.’

  De Witt now raised his right hand, and the murmur of conversation which had greeted his appearance was stilled. The crowd waited avidly for his first words, which came in a voice unexpectedly reedy and flat.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ began the banker, ‘I will begin by confirming what you have already heard—that the amount stolen from the bank was twenty thousand dollars in cash. What the Sheriff did not say, and indeed, did not know, was that this amount comprised almost all of the money in the bank.’ He held up his hand again to stem the growing swell of speculation that followed this revelation. ‘I have, therefore, no alternative but to call in all outstanding debts to the bank. It will be some weeks before a sufficient sum of money can be called in from Santa Fé to replace the payroll of the mine which, as you all know, was the main bulk of the money stolen. There is outstanding to the bank more than the amount required to meet the mine payroll, and I must consider that they, and the people who have money on deposit at the bank, are my first priority. Let me say now, your money is quite safe. Nobody will lose his money. Our head offices can more than guarantee these losses. But I must meet the mine payroll, and to do that I must—I am sorry to say it, but unpleasant as it is, it must be said—I must call in any debts now outstanding to the bank. I am referring particularly to anyone who has short term mortgage loans from the bank, improvement loans, or similar arrangements with the bank, and I would appreciate anyone having such an arrangement who is here now coming to see me as soon as possible. I will not mention any names, as this might be embarrassing for the individuals concerned.’

  The level of noise rose again as he finished his speech; a multitude of conversation and speculation was bandied about the saloon.

  ‘Yu think it was the Shadows robbed yu, de Witt?’ called someone from the back of the room. Silence fell as the crowd awaited the banker’s answer.

  ‘They gave me no indication of who they were,’ was de Witt’s dry answer.

  ‘Yu get a look at them?’ asked someone else.

  ‘No they were all masked. The leader was a very big man, but—well, I have given all this information to Sheriff Brady. If there are no further questions, I would like to get back to the bank. If anyone wishes to discuss their problems with me personally, I shall be there!

  So saying, he slid down off the bar and pushed his way out of the saloon. The crowd watched him go in silence, and then a veritable avalanche of voices descended into the stillness, while Dutchy and his helpers struggled manfully to comply with orders for drinks at the long bar.

  Sudden turned to his employer, who was in conversation with Mike Mountford and a small, compactly—built, efficient-looking newcomer who wore a neat grey suit and soft sombrero. Tate introduced this man as Pat Newman, the manager of the Thunder Mesa silver mines. Newman’s face was concerned.

  ‘I’m hoping that de Witt can arrange my payroll quickly,’ he was saying. ‘I can always bring in some money to pay off the men, but that would mean keeping them without pay for about two weeks. You men know what miners without money are like—quite apart from any trouble they might get up to, work would fall off, I’d lose productivity. I can always keep them in line, I suppose, but I’d just as soon avoid having to.’

  Looking at this unassuming man with the deep experience wrinkles around the eyes, Sudden was inclined to agree that this was a man who, as he had put it himself, could ‘keep the miners in line’ if the necessity arose.

  ‘Well, it looks like my mortgage will be called for shore,’ said Tate. ‘Damnation, why’d a thing like this have to happen right now? Couldn’t come at a worse time. There’s just no market for beef anywhere at this time o’ year, an’ I ain’t got no other way to raise some.’

  ‘Wal, thank the Lord I ain’t in that kind o’ bind,’ Mike Mountford said slowly, with a shrug of his huge shoulders. ‘In fact, the bank has coin o’ mine. It ain’t much … but George, if a couple o’ hundred dollars would help, yo’re more than welcome.’

  ‘That’s a mighty generous offer, Mike,’ Tate said humbly, ‘but the truth is that I need much more than a couple o’ hundred to pull me outa this hole.’

  Struck by a thought, Sudden touched the mine manager’s elbow and drew him to one side as Tate and Mountford continued their discussion.

  ‘Just occurs to me, seh,’ Sudden told Newman. ‘Where do yu buy yore beef ?’

  Newman looked puzzled for a moment, then said, ‘Oh, you mean for feeding the men? I usually buy from Marty Black at South Bend. Why d’you ask?’

  ‘How many head do yu buy?’

  ‘About five hundred. But look, young fellow, if you’re thinking of selling me Slash 8 beef, forget it. I get a very keen price from Marty Black, who’s just ten miles away from the mines. He has no problems about delivery and the cows aren’t stringy after a tough trail across the Badlands, or through the mountains. I get a full herd, not what’s left of a herd when somebody tries to drive through Thunder Ravine.’

  Sudden nodded, a slight smile on his face.

  ‘Furthermore,’ continued Newman, slightly nettled by the smile, ‘Black’s price, as I told you, is very keen. It wouldn’t be economical to drive cattle to me for the price I pay Black.’

  ‘I’m bettin’ yo’re wrong, seh,’ Sudden said eventually.

  ‘Wrong? I’m not wrong, young man. I’ve gone into this very thoroughly, I assure you. It is not a commercial proposition to drive cattle to the mines from anywhere this side of the Mesas at the price I’m paying Marty Black.’

  ‘Like I said, seh, I’m bettin’ yo’re wrong. But afore I tell yu why, can I ask yu a favor?’ Newman nodded, and Sudden continued ‘I’d like yu to keep what I’m goin’ to tell yu to yoreself. Not a word to anyone. Will yu do that?’ The mystified mine manager nodded once more.

  ‘I suggest you get to the point,’ he put in.

  ‘I’m about to,’ Sudden told him. ‘Here’s my bet: I’m bettin’ yu five hundred head o’ cattle-—or the equivalent in cash—that I can get a herd to yu at the mines in as good a condition as Marty Black can, at the same price yo’re payin’ Marty Black. If I can’t, or if the cows ain’t in the condition yu require, I forfeit the herd-—or the cash, if yu prefer it. What do yu say?’

  ‘I say you’re mad,’ snapped Newman. ‘It can’t be done.’

  ‘It can,’ was the quiet reply. ‘There’s only one condition.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Newman quietly, ‘a condition. What is it?’

  ‘That you buy the herd within the next ten days.’

  Newman studied the man before him. Something about his demeanor suggested that if this man said he was going to do a thing, it would get done. And he knew perfectly well what Tate’s rider was up to. If he could sell a herd, there’d be enough money to pay off Tate’s debt to the bank. It was a calculated gamble, and one that appealed to Newman.

  ‘Mister Green,’ he said with a smile, offering his hand, ‘I’ll take that bet.’

  ‘Call me Jim,’ smiled Sudden. ‘An’ thanks. Yu just bought yoreself some beef.’

  ‘I’ll believe it when I see them in the corral,’ smiled Newman as they shook hands.

  ‘Yu’ll see ’em,’ Sudden told him. ‘If for any reason I can’t get through, I’ll send someone across to let yu know. I’ll also send someone in the day afore we arrive, so yu can have the pens ready!

  Tate regarded Sudden with mock irascibility when the two rejoined the group.

  ‘Where in thunder yu been, boy?’ he growled. ‘Yu an' me’s got a date with the banker. I guess I’m ornery enough to play the string through to its miserable end, although I know what he’s goin’ to say. Come on, Jim.Let’s get her done.’

  Chapter Four

  Jasper de Witt was a careful man. His office was a reflection of this fact; it gave no indication of the personality of the man who worked in it, or, indeed, that an
yone worked in it at all. There was a huge safe in one corner, a desk, a chair for the banker and two upright chairs for visitors, and a small filing case against the wall. The room had two doors; one admitted visitors from the main part of the bank, while the other led to a stairway which rose to de Witt’s personal quarters above the bank. No every-day customer of the bank had ever been admitted to those quarters, although the office was open to all, especially on this day.

  Nevertheless, at the time that Sudden was finalizing his arrangements with Newman, the mine manager, the door between de Witt’s office and the bank was locked and the blinds were drawn, while a sign hanging outside read ‘Back in one hour’. Inside the office, the blinds on the single window were also drawn. Standing facing the seated banker was a huge, hulking brute of a man with a long, evil face scarred down one side by an old knife wound which ran from just below the lobe of the left ear to the comer of the mouth, giving the hatchet face an evil leer.

  This was Burley Linkham, foreman of the Barclay ranch; and it was evident from his expression that he was not enjoying this interview. The good citizens of Hanging Rock would have been dumbfounded had they been able to eavesdrop upon the conversation which was taking place.

  ‘When is Barclay due back?’ the banker snapped.

  ‘’Bout a week,’ replied Linkham. ‘He’s stayin’ at the —

  ‘—I know where he’s staying,’ was the acid comment, ‘and with whom. Get word to him to stay where he is until he hears , from me.’

  Linkham nodded sullenly. ‘Something up?’

  ‘One or two things, my friend.’ The banker’s voice was full of an evil that no one in this town would have ever dreamed existed. De Witt made a steeple of his fingers, pursed his lips, then leaned forward like a striking snake, hissing. ‘Give me your feeble excuses for the fact that George Tate is still alive!’

  ‘Hell, boss,’ mumbled the discomfited man before him, ‘the boys run into some trouble .... ’

  ‘Trouble? Trouble?’ screamed de Witt. ‘What do you think they’re going to run into if they don’t do what they’re paid for?

  ‘Who did you send?’

  ‘Pardoe was in charge—’ began Linkham.

  ‘That bungling fool!’ snapped de Witt. ‘How many men did he have?’

  ‘Four—Morley, Callaghan, Rayton, and MacAlmon.’

  ‘Five men. And they were run off by an old man and some wet-behind-the-ears saddle tramp.’

  ‘He got the drop on them,’ mumbled Linkham by way of explanation. ·

  ‘Bungling fools,’ raged the banker. ‘I’m surrounded by idiots. As for Pardoe—’

  ‘He’s itchin’ for another chance at that Green fella,’ offered Linkham.

  ‘Is—he—indeed?’ ground out de Witt. ‘Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t get rid of Pardoe? I suppose it’s lucky that you weren’t along. If you had been there, and been recognized , I would have no further use for you? The thinly-veiled threat sank in, and Linkham squirmed.

  ‘Hell, it was just pore luck,’ he expostulated. ‘I’ll see that it don’t happen again. Yu just tell me what yu want done. I’ll tend to it, personal.’

  De Witt nodded, as if slightly mollified.

  ‘Thanks to your bungling, I have had to arrange things differently. You had no trouble dodging the posse?’

  ‘Hell, no,’ strutted Linkham. ‘We had a clear ride to the canyon.’

  ‘And the money?’

  ‘Safe—where you said.’

  ‘Good. The robbery has made it unnecessary for Tate to be visited again by the Shadows. We shall break him financially. It will be just as effective as a bullet. But this stranger who helped Tate is another matter. What do you know about him?’

  ‘Name’s Green. Wears two guns an’ knows how to use ’em, from what the boys said.’

  ‘I want him out of the way,’ de Witt said coldly. ‘There must be no unknown factors in this operation, Linkham. It is a very delicate and complicated matter. I cannot and will not tolerate another bungling such as happened at Tate’s the other night. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Don’t you worry none,’ Linkham assured him. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

  ‘It might be wiser not to come here for a while ...afterwards,’ said de Witt with an evil smile. He reached into a drawer and brought out a thick roll of bills. Peeling off a number he threw them across the desk.

  ‘Take this for expenses. Pay your men before you do anything else. Money makes silence.’

  Linkham nodded, picked up the money and his hat, and de Witt rose and accompanied him to the door. As the big man surveyed the street, de Witt had a final remark to make.

  ‘Don’t bungle this, Linkham .... or I shall act. Do I make myself clear?’

  Whatever dark threat was concealed in those words had its effect upon Linkham, who paled visibly and nodded without speaking. He slipped out of the bank door, mingling with the throng on the sidewalk, and strode quickly away in the direction of Diego’s. Only when he was inside the saloon did he turn and shake his fist towards the bank. A string of foul oaths escaped his lips, and under his breath he muttered, ‘Yu think yu own me body an’ soul, yu vulture, but it’s a two—way game. One day I’m goin’ to stand an’ spit on yore bloodsuckin’ corpse!’ His rage partially vented, Linkham jostled his way through the saloon and continued his brooding at a table in the rear of the building, his only company a bottle of whiskey whose level dropped rapidly in the next hour.

  Shortly after Linkham’s departure, the Slash 8 men were ushered into the banker’s office with every expression of good-will. When the two visitors were seated, de Witt took his place behind the big desk, made a steeple of his fingers, and raised his eyebrows. Tate did not beat about the bush; old-timer that he was, he came directly to the point.

  ‘De Witt, yo’re holdin’ a mortgage on the Slash 8. How do I stand?’ The banker shifted uncomfortably under the keen gaze of the old rancher, but lifting his chin slightly, as if in defiance, said, ‘I regret to say, Mr. Tate, that you don’t stand too well.

  I’m going to have to ask you to pay off your debt, or sell your mortgage?

  Tate nodded. ‘I figgered that. How long are yu givin’ me?’

  De Witt was a wonderful actor, and his feelings were rigidly under control, but nevertheless the slightest hint of triumph in the reedy voice did not escape Sudden’s sharply attuned ears, and his eyes narrowed as the banker told his employer, ‘Not more than ten days, Tate.’

  ‘Ten days!’ exploded Tate. ‘Damnation, man, yu expect me to raise that kind o’ money in ten days? Yu got to give me more time than that!’

  Tate was also acting a little. On their way to the bank, Sudden had told him about his deal with Pat Newman, and even though the old man was dubious of Green’s assurance that he could get the cattle through to the mines, he also knew that it would take a few days to round up the herd and get them started towards Thunder Mesa, so he was playing for a little extra time.

  ‘Ten days is, I might say, extremely generous in the circumstances, Tate,’ was de Witt’s chill reply. ‘I should really press you for immediate payment.’ A sudden thought crossed the man’s mind. ‘Are you telling me that you can raise the money? If so, I would like to know why you have not done so before to clear your indebtedness to the bank.’

  ‘Yu got me in a tight bind, de Witt,’ expostulated Tate. ‘I got to sell some cattle to raise yore money. If yu hadn’t called my note, I could have waited until Spring an’ got a much higher price.’

  ‘I’m surprised to hear that you have a buyer,’ said de Witt, artlessly. ‘Are you selling in Summerfield?’

  ‘Nope, we got ourselves a buyer—’ Tate began, when his employee cut in and finished the sentence, ‘—in South Bend. Yu probably know him, seh. Marty Black?’

  ‘No, I can’t say I do,’ was the banker’s reply. He said it without any expression of interest whatsoever. ‘You’ll be driving across the Badlands? Surely you’ll lose too many cattle to m
ake the drive pay?’

  Before his employer could open his mouth, Sudden answered again. ‘We got no real choice, Mr. de Witt. Yu want yore money, an’ she’s the only way we can figger to raise it.’

  ‘You’ll still have to drive over some pretty dangerous Country,’ de Witt said thoughtfully. ‘And since the bank has a particular interest, I’m not sure that I ought to allow you to jeopardize the possible chattels of a bank holding . . .’ De Witt saw the thunder growing in Tate’s face and added hastily, ‘But I’m sure that you know what you are doing. Let us hope that you do not encounter these bandits whom Brady tells me have a hideout somewhere in the Badlands.’

  ‘Shucks,’ Sudden interposed, ‘four of us can handle anything them false alarms care to start. We run ’em off once, an’ we can again.’

  The unaccustomed bravado in Green’s voice made his employer look at him sharply, and his pent-up puzzlement finally overflowed the dam of his judgment.

  ‘Jim, what in the blue blazes—’

  ‘I know, I know, it was supposed to be a secret,’ interrupted Sudden, holding up his hand. ‘But I didn’t figger you meant that Mr. de Witt here’—he favored the banker with an ingratiating smile—‘was included in that. Shucks, if he don’t know our plans, he ain’t likely to extend our credit.’

  George Tate’s face set in exasperation at the way that his employee kept forestalling his efforts to speak, but a look which crossed Green’s face while the banker’s gaze was momentarily averted convinced him that the younger man knew what he was about. So George Tate kept his peace while de Witt addressed them again.

 

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