Having seen enough, Sudden returned to where he had left his horse. This must be Hell City, and he had guessed Lagley's errand correctly; the stolen placard would shortly be in the possession of the chief of this outlaw community. Since he had brought it with that object, he was well content. The more so as he had lighted upon what seemed to be a private means of entering or leaving the place; no doubt :here was a man on guard below, but ... The puncher was not one to ford a river before he came to it.
The Double K foreman found the man he had come to see alone, save for the loutish attendant hovering in the background. The red mask made the stony eyes paler than ever; they always gave Lagley an uncomfortable feeling. The boy he used to know had eyes of the same colour, but they werealive, mirthful, unless he was angered. Lae bandit nodded negligently to a seat.
"What brings you?" he enquired.
"Yore business, o' course," the visitor replied. "Have a good look at that."
Satan unfolded the stolen placard and read it. "Well, are you suggesting I should send to Texas for him? Too much trouble, my friend, Besides, he'll drift in, sooner or later."
"Make it sooner," Lagley said. "He's here a'ready."
The other straightened in his seat. "And I was not told?" he cried. "By Christmas, I'll--"
"Hold yore hosses, Jeff; nobody knows but me. He calls hisself Green, an' he's ridin' for--us."
"That fellow?" Satan said coolly. "Well?"
"He's useful--look how he handled Scar's crew, an' it was him an' Homer busted up that brandin' play. The 01' Man is stuck on him, which is another reason for ropin' him in."
"Have you sounded him?"
"Kind of," Lagley replied. "He didn't jump at it--ain't the sort--but I figure yu could fix him."
"What's he done to you?"
Under the scrutiny of those staring eyes the foreman shifted uncomfortably; he had the feeling that his inmost thoughts were being dragged out.
"I got nothin' agin him," he protested.
"He may come to see me--if he has the nerve."
Lagley essayed a grin. "That'll fetch him, but he's gotta be handled with gloves--he ain't no common roughneck."
"I shall deal with him as I think fit," came the snub. "By the way, I want more three-year-olds; arrange that some are --available." He threw some bills on the table. "There's your pay; see that you continue to earn it."
The foreman picked up the money and would have given something for the courage to fling it in the face of the master who treated him so cavalierly, but self-interest and a desire to we both forbade it. Silver, with a smirk which uncovered his usks, showed him out, and then returned with his great shoulders shaking.
"What's amusing you, Silver?" the masked man asked. "They's all the same, Chief," rumbled the deep voice. 'Come in, steppin' high, with their heads up, an' slinks out ails tucked in. Never seen the fella could out-face you. Dunno how you do it."
The thin lips curved in a gratified smile. "The ability to rule is born in a man," Satan said. "I have the gift. Tomorrow, you shall see me tame this gunfighter."
But the morrow brought no Sudden to Hell City. The foreman delivered the message, not quite in the condescending form in which it had been given--"He'll be glad to meetcha," was how he put it--and Sudden had received it omewhat nonchalantly.
"I'll chew it over. Mebbe drop in one day."
"Don't leave it too long," Lagley warned. "He ain't the patient kind."
He got a look he could not put a meaning to. "I'm a bit short on patience myself," the puncher replied. "Also, I ain't kow-towin' to any road-agent who's afeard to show his face."
"Wait till yu see him; yu'll talk different."
"P'raps, but first he's gotta wait till he sees me," Sudden retorted. "I'll choose my own time."
So it came about that several days passed before the black horse carried him along the narrow causeway which wound through the foothills, and, rising with increasing steepness, led to the ponderous portal of Hell City. Approaching it, one could not help being struck by the natural strength of its position. Many centuries back, the place must have been a pass through the crest of a high plateau, but some mighty convulsion had torn away the cliff on the right, leaving a mereshell of rock with a precipitous face mounting abruptly from the valley. This shell formed one side of the bandit stronghold.
Pacing slowly along, Sudden's eyes were busy, but he did not halt until he reached the gate. It opened at once, to disclose a burly-looking ruffian, holding a rifle levelled from the hip. The visitor knew that his approach must have been observed; he had already decided upon his attitude.
"Are you Sudden?" the man asked.
"Folks have found me all that," was the reply.
"I've had word to let you pass, but yo're after yore time; the Chief don't like to be kept waitin'."
"Is that so? Well, I don't like it neither, an' yo're keepin' both of us waitin'," Sudden reminded, adding sharply, "I'll have to tell him...."
With a look of alarm, the custodian fell back, his bluster gone. "No call to do that, stranger."
His eyes followed the black as it stepped unhurriedly along the street; the rider appeared to have forgotten his haste. "A killer, shore enough," he muttered. "Had me covered, too, damn him." He slammed the gate and then chuckled. "The Chief'll take the starch out'n him, good an' plenty."
The puncher paced on until he reached the point where he had seen Lagley vanish, and then pulled up beside a group of three men, slouch-hatted, unshaven, heavily armed, who surveyed him with insolent hostility.
"Where's yore boss hang out?" he asked brusquely.
All three scowled, but one jerked a thumb over his shoulder. They watched him dismount and trail the reins, their greedy eyes on the horse. He spoke again.
"Keep away from him or he'll kill yu, an' if he don't, I will."
The faces of the men he warned grew darker, and one of them growled, "Who the devil are you to give us orders?"
"My name is `Sudden,' " the puncher rasped. "Put yore paws up, all o' vu, pronto !"
As he spat out the last word his own hands came up, a gun in each. Utterly taken by surprise, the ruffians dared not disobey; the jutting jaw and icy narrowed eyes were not those of a bluffer.
"Run, yu rats," came the harsh command, and a bullet tore the heel from the boot of the last to start.
The gunman waited until they had dived, like the vermin to which he had compared them, into one of the openings, and then hammered loudly on the door with the butt of a gun. It was opened immediately by Silver, who beckoned him in. The masked man was lolling in a big chair, reading, and took no notice when they entered. The puncher seated himself, pushed his hat back, and began to roll a cigarette. Presently the book was thrown aside.
"You are `Sudden'?"
"Men call me that," the cowboy replied. "I s'pose yo're `Satan'?"
"That's what I call myself. you have taken your time."
"Why should I come a-runnin' when yu whistle?" Sudden said rudely. "I ain't nobody's dawg."
The expressionless eyes did not alter, but he saw the mouth harden; the blow had gone home.
"I heard a shot outside. What happened?"
"Three o' yore scum got impudent; I had to educate 'em some."
"Was it to find me you came to Arizona?"
"Never heard o' yu till I got to Dugout--robber bands ain't no novelty in the West," Sudden said carelessly. "I was just travellin'--for my health."
A flash of anger shone in the dull eyes but was gone in an instant. This truculent bully must be given a lesson, the masked man decided.
"I have something to show you," he announced. "When you have seen it, we will continued our conversation."
At a sign, Silver dragged aside a rug and raised a trapdoor, disclosing a ladder. He went down, and Satan motioned his guest to follow. Little as he appreciated the courtesy, the puncher--conscious that he was between the two fires--could not but comply. A moment, and the third man had joined them. The chamber they were
now in was a counterpart of the one they had left, save that it was unfurnished. Daylight, entering by a hole on one side, revealed only what Sudden took to be a pile of rags, until a deep groan apprised him that they covered a human form.
"Still alive," the masked man said, and there was a horrible satisfaction in his tone. "Good!"
"What's he done?" the visitor asked.
"you don't know the Governor of Arizona, I expect?" Satan replied, watching him keenly.
Sudden laughed. "Sheriffs is my limit thataway, so far."
"The Governor is good enough to take an interest in me," the hard voice went on. "He has already sent two spies. The first went back ready for burial, and this one will be returned in the same way when I have finished with him. Lagley said you could shoot. I am about to test your skill. Lift him, Silver."
The dwarf raised the supine form as though it had been that of an infant, and the puncher needed all his iron control to suppress a cry of horror. Never had he seen a more dreadful sight. Through the tattered fragments of clothing the shrivelled frame of the poor wretch gleamed like the bleached bones of a skeleton, the limbs swinging loosely, as if tied on with string. Long, matted white hair and beard draped a pallid, blood-drained face, with sunken cheeks, glazed eyes, and drooling lips.
Sudden schooled his features to an expression of callous indifference; he had found Dolver--too late; the man was dying; he might live for days, enduring unspeakable agony, but there was no hope. He fought an impulse to shoot down the devil who now stood, gloating over his handiwork, but it was Keith's son, and to slay the leader only would but make way for another. Even if he got out of Hell City alive--which was doubtful--his work would be still to do. In a voice he hardly recognized, he asked:
"What's wrong with his arms an' legs?"
"Broken at the knees and elbows--it saves the trouble of bonds," the monster explained. "How I wish the Governor could see him."
He gave an order and Silver, supporting his burden easily with his left arm, gripped the lolling head with his enormous other paw and held it upright, as in a vice.
"you have heard of dying by inches," Satan said coolly. "This man is dying by fractions of an inch. You see that groove extending from the forehead back over the scalp? Well, every day I deepen it the smallest shade by a bullet. Eventually, I shall touch the brain, and then ..."
Into the piteous eyes of the prisoner, near blind with pain, came a spark of life, and from the mumbling lips a weak wail. "For God's sake, kill me."
The masked man laughed hideously. "Always the same prayer," he gibed, and finished with a blasphemy.
Stepping back several paces, he drew a pistol, aimed and fired. The shot drew a despairing moan from the victim, and Sudden could see the faintest trickle of blood from the groove. The marksman looked at him triumphantly.
"That's shooting, my gun-slinging friend," he sneered.
The puncher did not appear impressed. "Fair," he admitted. "But if that hombre was fit an' had a forty-five in his fist ..."
"Can you equal it?""Shore, firin' at a fixed mark is dead easy."
"Prove it," the other snarled.
Sudden shrugged; this was the invitation for which he had been angling. Drawing one of his guns, he raised it slowly, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet struck an inch below the groove and Dolver's head slipped from the dwarf's grasp and fell forward. For one second, the bandit could not believe what he saw, and then: "you clumsy fool, you've killed him," he cried, almost beside himself with rage. "I've a mind to..."
Apparently the visitor was too chagrined to resent either the epithet or the threat.
"Which I'm allowin' it was a poor shot," he said dejectedly. "Allus do forget that this gun throws a mite low. yu certainly can shoot, mister."
The humility and flattery restored the masked man to his normal state of imperturbability. "My followers call me `Chief,' " he pointed out.
"Suits me, but I ain't one of 'em yet. Let's get out'n here an' talk it over--corpses ain't the best o' company."
Leaving the man whom Sudden, at the risk of his own life, had mercifully released from horrible torment, lying on the floor of his prison, they returned to the upper room.
"What yu want I should do?" the puncher asked. "Rustle some cows for yu?"
Satan looked at him. Was the fellow really as stupid as he seemed to be--a mere creature of brawn without brain? Even so, he might be useful.
"The rustling is a small matter, done to annoy Keith," he explained. "I want to make him desperate, force him to fight, and then--I'll kill him."
The last three words were spoken with incredible ferocity, hissed through shut teeth.
"It is said he's yore father," Sudden reminded.
"No, he disowned me, said I wasn't fit to bear his name, and that he wished never to see my face again. Well, I have acquired another name and concealed my face, but, by Christmas, he shan't rob me of my inheritance. Now do you understand?"
"Shore," was the reply. "It's a good range."
This fatuous answer produced a further probing regard, but the speaker's features were wooden. The bandit nodded.
"Since we understand one another, get back to it," he said. "Lagley will give you my orders. Remember, if you play false, I shall know, and--you have seen how I deal with those who offend me."
The visitor made an evident effort to regain his assurance. "Threats don't scare me none whatever," he boasted. "Keep 'em for those they may. So long."
With an air of insolent bravado, he swung from the room, but it was a pleasure to see the sky again. His horse welcomed him with a whinny, and mounting, he rode slowly to the gate. His gloomy expression was misunderstood by the keeper.
"Ain't feelin' so fresh, huh?" he commented, but not until the rider was out of hearing. "Thought he'd larn you." When he was well beyond the range of prying eyes, Sudden straightened up in his saddle. His face was drawn and set with resolve. He had been driven to shoot the man he had come to save, just as he would have put out of its misery a suffering beast, and it hurt.
"If ever I'm in a like case, I hope someone will act the same," he muttered, and then, "I had to do it."
But the devil who had made such a deed necessary must pay, and in full.
Chapter XI
Joan Keith reined in her pony, leaned back in the saddle, and drew a long breath of profound satisfaction. She loved this untamed land, with its sandy scrub-dotted wastes, fragrant pine-woods, gloomy gorges, and inhospitable hills. Out of an unclouded vault above, the sun flung its fire relentlessly, but the night would bring a gracious coolness. The aromatic scent of the sage stung her nostrils. Behind stretched an undulating plain, the short brown grass of which fattened the Double K herds, and in front, a welter of low, broken ridges rising step by step to pinnacled grey peaks. It was upon these that her gaze rested longest. Among them--just where, she did not know--lay Hell City, and her eyes grew misty as she thought of the wayward boy who was wrecking his life there. Not his only, but her own, though this was something she fought not to admit, even to herself.
"Yes, it's a great pity, but when old men are tyrannical ..." The voice, familiar, but with a harsh intonation that was strange, startled her, and set her pony rearing. Her capable hands soon brought it under control and she turned to face the intruder, who had stolen up behind her, the sandy soil deadening the footfalls of his mount. Her face flushed and then paled as she saw the red mask beneath the high-crowned Stetson. Dumbly she noted the dandified cowboy rig, the silver spurs, and lavishly decorated saddle on the fine black he bestrode.
"You could always ride, Joan," he went on, and, reading her thought, "Yes, a good horse, Arab and mustang speed and stamina. I call him `Pluto'--rather appropriate, I fancy."
Below the pulled-down brim of the big hat she could see the pale eyes appraising her with cold curiosity. The sneeringly polite manner jarred on her, and she remained silent.
"You don't seem very glad to see me, yet we were good friends once," he said.
"Did you expect I would be?" she cried, stirred to anger and speech by the reference to earlier and happier days. "You are not the man I knew; you have changed--horribly."
"And you too have changed--charmingly," he smiled. "You were a pretty girl; now, you are a beautiful woman. By Christmas, it must be getting on for two years since I saw you. We must meet more often."
She shook her head. "Impossible, unless you give up this hideous masquerade and abandon the dreadful life you are leading," she said. "Won't you do it, Jeff? Your father--"
"Hates me, and would hound down and hang me if he had the power," he broke in fiercely. "Within the past few weeks he has hired a noted killer from Texas to help him accomplish that very thing. No, like Napoleon, I am a Man of Destiny. I must follow my fate, even--"
"If it leads to the gallows," she finished.
"Yes, even so, but it will not. The leaden-witted fools round here regard me as the chief of a band of criminals, hiding under a fantastic name, ready to rob for mere gain. Bah ! I care little for gold, but a great deal for the power it can give me. You have said I am changed, Joan. you are right; I have found myself; I have ambition."
"A poor one--to be an infamous outlaw."
"That is simply a stepping-stone to greater things. When I am the largest landowner in northern Arizona the past will be forgotten; the world forgives all to the successful."
"Such dreams are madness. The Government--"
"Has far too much on hand to worry about the West for years. When it does, I shall be established and--respectable. Some of our biggest cattlemen started as rustlers and then stole the land they now occupy. I shall begin with the Double K, which is mine by right."
"At present it belongs to Kenneth Keith, and he is neither old nor ailing," she reminded.
The thin lips under the mask parted slightly. " `In the midst of life ...' " he quoted. "He may--meet with--an accident."
There was no mistaking the sinister insinuation and the girl's face blanched. "Your own father!" she exclaimed, horror-struck.
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