Sudden: Makes War

by Oliver Strange

  The look of blank amaze on Lake’s face returned to him. Would he too—? He strangled the thought. His mind raced. Seventy thousand bucks; there must be a way.

  A fiendish look told that he had found one. Changing his gun to his left hand, he picked up a chunk of rock with his right, leaned limply against the cliff so that the missile was hidden, and waited. The scrape of slipping boot-heels on a hard surface warned him that the puncher was descending. A moment and he appeared, six-shooter levelled. The foreman’s face was a pasty yellow; he made no attempt to raise his weapon, seeming to be exhausted.

  “Don’t shoot, Green,” he cried hoarsely. “I give in.”

  “Chuck yore gun towards me, an’ put yore paws up,” Sudden said sternly.

  Bundy obeyed, lifting the left arm only. “Can’t manage the other,” he whined. “Damn bronc fell, bustin’ a leg an’ my collar-bone. I had to finish him.”

  The story was plausible enough; the man was apparently minus mount and rifle. All the same, the cowboy was not convinced. Unhurriedly he moved forward and half-stopped to lift the surrendered weapon. Like a flash, Bundy’s “injured” arm flew up and down. Too late, Sudden detected the action and straightened; the great stone struck him on the chest instead of the head.

  Reeling back under the force of the blow, he lost his foothold on a slippery incline and vanished into the abyss.

  Bundy, beads of cold sweat on his forehead, heard a shout of rage from the distant spectators, but no bullets came. Wondering at this, he secured his revolver, and creeping to the edge of the ledge, peered over. What he saw nearly sent him after his victim. Twenty feet below Sudden was clinging to a dwarfed mesquite growing from a tiny cleft in the rock. For a moment the astounding sight paralysed him; then, with a blasphemous imprecation, he prepared to deal the finishing stroke. Sudden saw the threatening muzzle, and nerved himself for an effort of despair.

  “Might as well go one way as another,” he muttered.

  He still had his left-hand gun, and hanging by his right arm only, he swept it out and drove a slug into the evil, gloating face above just as Bundy fired. Sudden felt the wind of the bullet, and then saw the ruffian’s body dive past him into the depths. But he was not out of the woods yet. His friends were coming to help him, but an upward glance told that they could not be in time—the root upon which his life depended was loosening. He looked down; there was another bush a little lower, in a direct line; if he could grab that as he fell … Far below, he could see the red-brown river raging along the bottom of the canyon, hurling itself at the jagged, tooth-like boulders which strove to bar its progress.

  Grim of face, he let go, felt the air whistle in his ears, then branches struck him, and he clutched; the bush withstood the shock of his weight. Arms aching until it seemed they must leave their sockets, he dangled there, and waited for aid. It seemed long in coming. Actually, as they told him later, Dan, Hunch, and Yorky were on the ledge less than ten minutes after the daring drop. His first news of them was the loop of a lariat which slid past his face. Slipping his weary arms through, he was hauled up, bruised, but little the worse.

  “Shore, I’m all right,” he replied to Yorky’s shaky enquiry. “Injuns think a lot o’ the mesquite; I’m agreein’ with ‘em. Did he hit Trenton?”

  “No, Zeb ‘pears to have collapsed just as Bundy fired—the journey’s takin’ it out of him, an’ there ain’t much to take,” Dan replied. “Thought we’d lost you, Jim. How come?”

  “He fooled me—good an’ proper,” Sudden confessed, and told about it.

  When they rejoined the others, Trenton had recovered, and was chaffing at the delay. He scowled at Sudden. “So you wiped out Bundy? I wanted him myself, an’ I don’t thank you,” he said.

  “Did I ask yu to?” the puncher retorted, and rode on.

  “By God!” Tiny swore. “Next time Jim sees someone taking’ a pot at you he’ll let ‘em git on with it, I reckon.”

  Trenton asked curtly what he was talking about. The cowboy told him, and put it plainly.

  Followed another question. “Wasn’t it Green an’ two-three more o’ you who beat Bundy up for no reason?”

  “Jim thrashed him—alone—for ill-treatin’ Yorky. Bundy knocked the boy down, stole his rifle, shot his pony, an’ set him afoot out on the range, a sick kid, with night comin’ on. No reason, huh?”

  “Is that true?”

  The cowboy’s good-humoured face became bleak. “If you wanta call me a liar, Trenton, wait till yo’re well.”

  The rancher dismissed the threat with a grimace of disdain. “How long have you known Green?”

  “Not near so long as I have you, but I like him a damned sight more,” was the candid reply.

  And that concluded the conversation.

  Two more days of travel brought them within a mile of Rainbow, and there, in a wooded hollow well away from the trail out of the town, Dover called a halt.

  “Before we decide anythin’ I’ll slip in an’ get word with Bowdyr,” he said. “It’ll be dark when I reach the Parlour, an I’ll take care not to be seen.”

  When he returned, he was excited, and a little jubilant. “We’re in time,” he announced.

  “Maitland is offerin’ the ranches for sale tomorrow mornin’, at eleven o’clock; all the cattlemen in the district have been notified. He’s in a hurry, curse him; that’s the day my mortgage expires.”

  “Mine too,” Trenton growled.

  “Well, mebbe he’ll get a surprise,” Dover went on. “We’ll camp here to-night. The sale is to take place in the Parlour, an’ we can sneak in through the back—I’ve fixed it with Ben. Our game is to lie low until Garstone has showed his hand—if he’s there. He won’t be expectin’ any of us, an’ he’s figurin’ Trenton is cashed. We can hear everythin’ from the room behind, an’ sift in at the right moment. All agreed?”

  The assent was general. Trenton, a tired and sick man, sustained solely by his thirst for vengeance, asked one question:

  “Anythin’ been seen of Garstone an’ Beth?”

  “No, but they may’ve gone straight to yore ranch.”

  Dover’s surmise was correct. Garstone and the girl had actually arrived in the vicinity of Rainbow several hours ahead of the Circle Dot, and Beth had insisted they should avoid the town. Garstone had no objection to offer. His comment, if uncomplimentary to his companion, was true—neither of them was fit to be seen. The homeward trek had been an ordeal for both, and to the girl a nightmare. Many times they had lost all sense of direction, and in the end had blundered blindly on the wagon-road to the settlement. Taking so much longer than they expected, food ran out, and though the man could shoot, he was so poor a woodsman that he frequently frightened the game and returned empty-handed.

  The stress of the journey had shown Garstone to small advantage. Obsessed by his eagerness to get on, he showed less and less consideration for his companion, and any delay infuriated him. At such times he was almost brutal in his insistence, and she began to divine that his customary suavity was but a mask. The plea that he must save the ranch did not satisfy her.

  Any expression of anxiety concerning her uncle only irritated him.

  “You didn’t expect them to catch us up, surely,” he said. “They would have to travel slowly, and you must remember that Zeb is not young, and sorely hurt; anything may have happened.”

  He had intended to prepare her for the news he hoped Bundy would bring, that the rancher had succumbed to his injury, but he only succeeded in frightening her.

  “You mean he is—dead?” she asked fearfully.

  “Of course not, but he may have had a relapse, which would delay them,” he replied quickly. “On the other hand, Bundy would know a shorter way than we found, and they may be waiting at the ranch.”

  This did not prove to be the case; at the Wagon-wheel nothing had been heard of the owner or the foreman. When the travellers had washed, dressed, and eaten, Garstone was in a more pleasant frame of mind.

 
; “Well, my dear, we’re only just in time,” he said. “I have a notice from Maitland that the Wagon-wheel and Circle Dot ranches will be sold tomorrow morning.”

  “But isn’t that rather high-handed?” Beth asked.

  “It certainly is, and I cannot understand Zeb giving them the power to do it. Either he is a poor business man, or he was in desperate need of the loan. However, we’ll give that money-grubber a jolt.”

  “We? Surely there is no necessity for me to attend?”

  “On the contrary, it is most essential. In your ‘uncle’s absence, you represent the family, and—I don’t think he’d mind your knowing this—you are his heir.”

  “What have we to do?”

  “Clear the Wagon-wheel and buy the Circle Dot,” he replied triumphantly. “The two will make a fine property—for us, Beth. We shall also fling that red-haired boor into the mire.”

  The venom in his voice revolted her. “I have no wish to see Mister Dover ruined,” she said coldly.

  His surprise was genuine. “Why this sudden solicitude for the enemy of your family?”

  “On one occasion, at least, he saved my life,” she reminded. Garstone shrugged. “I doubt if the cattle would have hurt you,” he said. “Perhaps we’ll make Dover foreman at the Circle Dot.”

  “Which would humiliate him still more.”

  Her vehemence brought a thoughtful expression to his face. “No, that wouldn’t do—he must leave Rainbow. A disturbing element, but I can deal with him.”

  She looked at him with stormy eyes. “Which means that you will get someone else to do it, I suppose,” she said cuttingly. “I am tired of this hatred and violence. I will have no part in it.”

  Her mind in a tumult, she sought solitude in her own room, to sit, staring blindly at the peaceful scene without. Something had happened to her; it was as though she had awakened from an evil dream. She had not yet said “Yes” to Chesney Garstone, and knew now that she never would.

  The man himself was not perturbed by her outbreak. “Overwrought,” he decided. “She’ll learn.” The game was in his hands now. He had the money, and Trenton was dead—he felt sure of that, though the non-appearance of Lake and Bundy was perplexing. One bold stroke would put him in possession of both ranches. He went to Trenton’s office to prepare it.

  Chapter XXV

  When the Circle Dot men awoke in the morning it was to find one of their number, Hunch, missing; no one had seen him go, and his horse was still there.

  “Reckon he warn’t interested,” Dan opined. “Hiked off to the ranch, or back into the woods—he was anus happier there. His testimony wouldn’t count anyway. You got any ideas, Doc?”

  “No, he beats me,” was the reply.

  Breakfast was eaten, razors produced, and they made themselves as presentable as possible. “No ‘casion to look like a lot o’ bums if we are busted,” Dover remarked, and Malachi, for one, agreed with him. Then they sat down to wait the word from Bowdyr.

  By the hour advertised that portion of the Parlour usually devoted to dancing contained almost the whole male population of Rainbow, and a few of the women. There were also strangers, cattlemen from the outlying ranges, and a sprinkling of others whose garb told that they were alien to the West. Lounging against the wall at the back, glum-faced, were Burke and the rest of the Circle Dot outfit.

  On the little platform the piano had been pushed aside, and a table, with several chairs, substituted. At this sat the banker, his daughter beside him. Prompt to the moment he rose and briefly explained the purpose of the meeting, concluding with the remark, “Some of you may regard this action as inconsiderate on the part of the bank, but I must remind you that business is business, and a financial institution cannot be conducted on philanthropic lines.”

  He waited for the perfunctory applause of this oratorical gem to die down, and was about to continue when there was a stir at the door; Garstone and Miss Trenton entered. The big man had timed their arrival to the instant. He had the leather satchel under one arm. Maitland stepped from his platform to meet them.

  “I am delighted to see you both,” he greeted. “I could get no news of you at the ranch. I trust Mister Trenton is well.”

  Garstone drew him apart, and a whispered conversation ensued. At the end of it the banker was all subservience. “Of course, as a man of affairs, you will understand how I was situated,” he excused. “My head office—”

  Garstone cut him short with a gesture, and conducted his companion to the platform, where seats were provided. The banker again addressed the audience.

  “The arrival of Mister Garstone with funds to liquidate the bank’s debt disposes of the Wagon-wheel,” he announced. “Is there anyone here to represent the Circle Dot?”

  “Yeah, me,” Burke called out. “An’ I say it’s a damned shame to sell Dan Dover’s property behind his back.”

  The applause which followed this outspoken statement brought a flush to Maitland’s pale face. “Have you the money to pay off the mortgage?” he asked.

  “You know thunderin’ well I ain’t,” the foreman replied. “Dan went to git it, an’ may be here any of time.”

  Beth Trenton rose. “Mister Maitland, the Wagon-wheel will advance the necessary sum to the Circle Dot,” she said.

  Garstone’s expression became one of fury. Gripping the girl’s arm, he forced her to sit down, whispering savagely, “Don’t be a fool, Beth.” Turning to the banker, he went on, “The Wagon-wheel will do nothing of the kind, Miss Trenton is allowing her heart to overrule her head; we expect that from her sex, but it is not business. What is the amount owing to you?”

  “Forty thousand dollars.”

  “I will buy the Circle Dot for that figure if there is no better offer.”

  None came, and Maitland smiled his satisfaction; that the bank should not lose was his sole concern. He had risen to terminate the meeting when the Easterner again whispered.

  “Mister Garstone has something to say to you,” he stated.

  Standing there, big-framed, carefully-dressed, a genial look on his fleshy face, the man made an imposing figure. He dispensed with any preamble.

  “I am going to tell you why Zeb Trenton is not here to do this job himself, and it’s quite a story. Most of you have heard of Red Rufe’s Cache. Well, some weeks ago, Trenton, his niece, myself, and some of our men went in search of it.” Several in the audience sniggered. “Yes, I know others have tried and failed, but we succeeded, and there it is”—he pointed to the satchel—“somewhere about seventy thousand dollars.”

  There were no sniggers this time, but envious eyes rested on the container of so much wealth. It had been for anyone to find.

  “Unfortunately, a gang of ruffians from the Circle Dot—”

  “You better lay off that kind o’ talk,” Burke warned, and was supported by a growl from his men.

  “Were also after it,” Garstone went on. “They attacked us, but we fought them off. Two of our men, Rattray and Flint, were killed, and Mister Trenton so severely wounded that I had to leave him in the charge of Bundy and another, since it was urgent I should be here to-day. So Miss Trenton and I came on, and though it was a terribly arduous journey, I could not wish for a more plucky fellow-traveller.”

  Beth received the compliment with stony indifference, but the speaker was too full of his own success to notice. As owner of two ranches, Rainbow must learn to recognize his importance. These hucksters and the like had to be told that he was no mere servant, and Beth brought to heel.

  “It may interest you to know that I own one-third of the Wagon-wheel; should Trenton not recover, it becomes two-thirds, the rest going to his niece. The will, which I have here, substantiates this. It is in accordance with his desire, often expressed to me, that we should wed, and the lady, I am happy to say, has consented.”

  If the spectators expected blushes and confusion they were woefully disappointed. Red of cheek she certainly was as she sprang to her feet, and her eyes were flaming.
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br />   “That, like some of your other statements, is a lie,” she said, in a clear, ringing tone.

  “Nothing in this world would induce me to marry you. As regards the two men who died, Rattray perished by accident, and Flint was shot by Bundy, as you well know. My uncle—”

  “Is here to speak for himself,” a weak but stern voice interrupted.

  Through the door leading to the living part of the establish ment, near the platform, Trenton, supported by Dover and the doctor, followed by Tiny and Yorky, entered, Garstone’s features underwent a swift transformation from rage to joy, and he was the first to reach the rancher’s side.

  “My dear Zeb, so those two fellows have got you here at last. I never was so pleased to see anyone,” he cried, and in a whisper, as he dragged forward a chair, “All is fixed; we have the Circle Dot. I can explain everything.”

  Trenton did not reply. Sinking into the seat, he looked round the room, and then darted a finger at Garstone. “That man is a liar and a cheat,” he said. Heads craned forward, and no one now thought of leaving. “His story of what happened in the mountains is as false as his own black heart. We attacked the Circle Dot, an’ I was shot by Bundy, my own foreman. When the money was found, this skunk cleared out an’ left me, dyin’ an’ helpless, alone in the wilds, to be the prey of any savage beast. Later, he sent Bundy an’ Lake back to finish me. They thought I was dead a’ready, an’ I heard them talkin’. They quarrelled about buryin’ me, an’ Bundy shot Lake, threw him down beside me, an’ put a pistol by my hand to make it look I’d done it. The Circle Dot found an’ fetched me home. On the way, Bundy saw us, an’ tried again to get me, but Green got him.”

  He paused, breathing heavily, Garstone, who had listened to this terrible indictment with well-simulated incredulity but a very pallid face, addressed the doctor:

  “He’s mad, raving; illness has turned his brain.”

  “No,” Malachi said sharply. “He is saner than you are.” Trenton spoke again. “One thing more. That rascal has no share in my ranch, an’ the so-called will of which he is boastin’ is another lie.”