Sudden Plays a Hand (1950)

by Oliver Strange

`I've been riding, and I suppose I dozed,' she excused. `Won't you step in?'

  He followed her, and gazed round with both amazement and appreciation. `Fine,' was his verdict. `You certainly have the gift.'

  `Of what?' she asked.

  `Home-makin',' he replied, and the look in his grave eyes brought the warm blood into her face.

  `Lindy did a lot,' was all she found to say.

  `Skittles!' Nick smiled. `Nobody thinks more o' Lindy than I do, but I'm wise to her limitations.' The bottle attracted his notice. `Must 'a' been expectin' me.'

  `Mister Cullin called,' she explained. `He wanted to see the place.'

  Drait's expression was wooden. `Yeah, he allus fancied this range,' he returned, and began to roll a cigarette.

  She found herself studying him anew. He was not so carefully attired as the Big C man, nor so obviously anxious to impress, yet she was conscious that he had something the other lacked, that mysterious `quality' the Negress had spoken of perhaps; she did not know. She invited him to stay and eat. Cullin would have seized the opportunity for a compliment; Nick did the opposite.

  `Shore is a temptation to sample Lindy's grub again. Not that the boys ain't doin' pretty well--considerin'.'

  `I feel mean about taking her away.'

  `Don't you, it's doin' us all good; we didn't know how well off we were.'

  When Lindy brought in the meal she scrutinised the nester closely. `Massa Nick, yoh ain't lookin' too peart,' she announced. `I sho' hab a fohbodin' dem hellions ain't feedin' yoh right.'

  'Yo're all wrong, woman,' Nick teased. `It's just grief over the absence o' my housekeeper.' He shot a mischievous smile at Mary as he spoke, and, without thinking, she returned it.

  There was little conversation until the meal was over, and then he asked, `Started counting yore cattle yet?'

  `I'm going to wait for the Fall round-up,' she replied, and gave her reasons. `It was Sturm's suggestion, and Mister Cullin agreed.'

  `Sturm was his man,' Nick said. `Well, yo're the doc.'

  `Isn't it possible you are mistaken about Cullin? He helped you, and now me.'

  `Must be a change of heart; his reputation is for on'y helpin' hisself.'

  He had picked up his hat, and she saw the sinister holes in the front and back of the crown. The reminder brought a look of concern which he read.

  `Now what fool had to tell you?' he asked. `Cullin?' `No, I already knew. He seemed very upset about it.'

  ` "Disappointed" would be a better word,' Nick said harshly. `An' how did you feel?'

  Her steady eyes met his squarely. `I was very glad you escaped injury.'

  His grin was back. `That makes it a'most worth while. Now, remember, any time yo're in a difficulty, send Yorky, an' we'll come a-runnin'.'

  He strode from the room, stepped into his saddle, and with a wave of the perforated hat, spurred across the plain.

  Chapter XV

  It was a week later that Gregory Cullin halted his horse outside the hotel at Rideout, and having made an enquiry, mounted to an upstairs room. He entered without knocking, and the occupant took his hand away from a gun-butt only when he recognised the visitor. He was a middle-aged man, of medium build, with a thin, sour face and restless eyes. He wore two guns, the holsters tied down. A bottle and two glasses before him.

  `Well, Lukor, how's the world treatin' you?' the rancher said. Too damn seldom,' was the growled reply. He pointed to a chair and the whisky. `Help yoreself.'

  `I will, but I'm really here to help you.'

  This attempt at humour produced only a contortion of the close-shut, almost bloodless lips which was more like a sneer nhan a smile. `Can that kind o' chatter,' their owner said. `I never could figure you as a charitable institootion.'

  `But I pay well,' the rancher retorted. He poured out some spirit, and as the other grabbed the bottle and half-filled his own glass, added, `I'd go light on that stuff.'

  `Bah! It never does nothin' to me, I was weaned on it. They carried me to bed las' night, an' look.' He held the tumbler high; the liquid in it might have been solid. He gulped the greater part. `Well, what's to do?'

  `There's a man in my way,' Cullin told him.

  `On'y one?' the gunman jeered. `You used to be fairly handy with a six-shooter yoreself.'

  `There's also a reason why I mustn't appear in this.' `Shore.' The tone turned the word into an insult.

  The cattleman's patience was at an end; he did not relish. being called a coward. He stood up. `I gather you don't want five hundred bucks,' he said coldly.

  The ruffian knew his man, and was not to be bluffed.

  'Yo're damn right, I don't; a thousand's the lowest--take it or leave it.'

  Cullin hesitated, but only as a matter of form; he was prepared to pay double the amount, for success.

  `I'm takin' it, Lukor,' he said. `You come to Midway an' hang about, givin' any excuse you like, waitin' yore chance. Don't use yore own name--it might be known.'

  The other revealed his tobacco-stained teeth in a wolfish grin. `I reckon. Figure I'm a greenhorn, huh?'

  `The cleverest can make mistakes,' Cullin replied. 'Fella's name is Nicholas Drait, an' he's about my size, mebbe a shadebigger; a nester an' a cattle-thief. You don't like nesters, do you?'

  `They ain't fit to live,' Lukor said, and spat in disgust. `Leave it to me. I'll want fifty for expenses, an' it ain't an advance, mind.'

  The rancher peeled off some bills from his roll. `Needn't to rush things. It's gotta look natural, an' don't let him get his hands on you--he'd smear you on the wall.'

  `If he got past a dozen slugs, mebbe,' the gunmen said scornfully. `Hell, it's good as done; you can wipe him off'n yore worry list right now.'

  Cullin left Rideout immediately, unaware of a pair of youthful but sharp eyes watching from the angle of a building across the street. Yorky, having by chance seen Cullin pass through Midway heading east, conceived a desire to discover his destination. When he vanished into the hotel, Yorky followed, got into conversation with the clerk, a youth of his own age, and learned that business was bad--they had only one guest.

  `Calls hisself "Fish," drinks like one, an' has all the earmarks of a gunslinger,' the clerk said.

  Yorky returned to his hiding-place, saw Cullin come out, but still waited. Presently his patience was rewarded; Lukor emerged and slouched towards the nearest saloon. The watcher noted the pair of revolvers, the deeply-bronzed right hand, the ever-alert glances.

  Satisfied he could glean no more he started for home, arriving there as dusk was falling. Outside the house, he met Mary.

  `Why, Yorky, we were becoming anxious,' she cried. `Where on earth have you been?'

  Naturally he did not want to tell, and the only plausible pretext he could think of would put the laugh on himself, but it had to be.

  `All over it--the earth, I mean, ma'am,' he replied dolefully. `Guessed I could find a shorter way back an' got proper lost. Wandered about for hours--got mighty near Noo York, I reckon--an' there I was in Midway again. So I come th' old road.'

  At the bunkhouse Sturm gave him a sour look. `Where the blazes you bin all day?' he enquired. `The Boss'll want an explanation.'

  `She's had one,' Yorky said, and closed up like a clam.

  His problem now was to get his news to Sudden; he could not ask for time to ride to the Valley. His luck was in--the puncher arrived during the next afternoon.

  `Nick's so full o' the change yu've made that I just had to

  come,' was his excuse to the lady of the house, whereupon she smiled delightedly and invited him in.

  His eyes travelled about the room. `Shore is great,' was his verdict. `Thought Nick might be romancin' but that ain't so, an' with some flower-beds in front o' the veranda....'

  `But what a splendid idea,' she cried. `Thank you.'

  He shook his head. `It was Nick's notion; I'm on'y passin' it on.'

  `Then you must pass on my gratitude,' she replied warmly.

  He enquired aoout
Yorky, and listened to the tale of his misadventure with a gravity he was far from feeling.

  `He's new to these parts; might happen to anybody,' he said. As he rode away in search of the boy he spoke to the black : `Nig, a fella who can't lie for a friend, ain't much; I must remember to wise up Nick 'bout them flower-beds. Wonder what that li'l devil was doin'?'

  He found the `li'l devil' forcing steers from a thorny thicket, and exuding moisture and expletives with equal frequency. He was nearing the end of his vocabulary when a low, amused voice remarked : `Mind yu don't get lost in there.'

  Yorky smote an obstreperous steer on the flank with the end of his rope, and came piling out of the bush.

  'Yo're th' very fella I wanted to see,' he cried, and then, as the significance of his friend's words dawned, `You didn't think I lost myself, did you, Jim?'

  `Well, no, I figured mebbe there was a reason,' Sudden admitted.

  `Shore is,' the boy said, and told his discovery.

  `Yu done fine,' Sudden complimented. `I'm glad I fetched yu along.'

  Praise from this quarter was priceless to Yorky, and having watched the black race out of sight, he murmured, `You ol pirut,' and returned to his labours quite happily.

  On reaching the Valley, Sudden sought out the nester and warned him about the flower-beds. Drait regarded him curiously.

  `I'm obliged, Jim; oughta thought o' that myself.'

  It was not until several days later that Nick announced his intention of going to Midway; stores had to be purchased. `I was aimin' to visit town my own self,' Sudden said.

  `Mebbe I can do yore errand?'

  `I guess not; some things a fella's gotta do for hisself an' gettin' a hair-cut is one. But gimme a list an' I'll order yore goods.'

  `Why o' course. Where's my head?'

  So Sudden solved a problem which had been worrying him.For the trip he selected a mount from the corral, leaving Nigger behind. Exactly why, he could not have explained; the thought came and he acted upon it. Pilch, the storekeeper, welcomed him joyfully, and business being soon concluded, Sudden perched himself on the counter, swiped a handful of raisins from a nearby tub, and prepared to chat.

  `Nick all right?' Pilch began, and when the customer nodded, "Bout time he got his rope on that gal at the S P an' won hisself a fine ranch.'

  Sudden took some more fruit. `Good, these. Add a dozen pounds to our list, ol'-timer, Nick must 'a' forgot 'em; the boys like plum duff.'

  `You seem partial to the plum part yoreself,' Pilch retorted, with a meaning glance at the puncher's not too small paws. `Now stop side-steppin'--you heard what I said.'

  `I don't know a thing 'cept Nick ain't lost his appetite, which I'm told is a sign. Anythin' new in town?'

  `A hard-lookin' stranger, mean-mouthed, carries a couple o' sixes, an' claims to be waitin' for someone.'

  `An' he doesn't deal with yu.'

  `How d'you--? Well, yo're right. I don't sell liquor, an' that's all he buys. Been around 'bout three-four days, an' the quicker he leaves the sooner we shan't miss him.'

  Sudden laughed, purchased some tobacco, and went in search of a barber and a meal. These matters attended to, he proceeded to Merker's, failing to notice that a pedestrian had stopped as he passed, turned, and followed him. Lukor had seen the N D brand, and the somewhat sketchy description he had received seemed to fit the rider. But he had to be sure. He entered, and saw his quarry at the bar, talking to the proprietor. Strolling to an adjacent table he sat down. Merker was speaking.

  `I'm tellin' you, Nick'--he dropped his voice to little more than a whisper--'is in danger; somebody's out to get him.' `Sound reasonin', but where's the proof?'

  `We'll get it, but in the meantime, don't run risks.'

  `Shore, they cool the blood an' hamper digestion,' Sudden smiled. `Know the genial-lookin' gent at the table?' He had noted the man's entrance in the mirror behind the bar, and recognised him from Yorky's description.

  `A newcomer--been hangin' about recent.'

  Lukor who had heard--as he believed--the saloon-keeper address the puncher as `Nick,' was satisfied that he had found his man. An evil grin twisted his lips as he reflected that soon he would shake the dust of this `prairie-dog settlement' from his feet, easy in mind and rich in pocket. The victim was a big fellow, but he expected that; Cullin had warned him. The two

  guns brought a sneer, they were the sort of bluff a nester might put up. The low-drawn hat-brim concealed most of the face. He stepped to the bar and spun a dollar. Picking up his change plainly revealed that the little finger of his left hand was missing. Sudden's eyes narrowed. Lukor sampled his drink--a moderate one--and facing round on the company, said:

  `Nesters is rank pizen.'

  His raucous voice rang through the room, the buzz of conversation ceased, and every eye was turned upon him. The speaker went on:

  `They digs their selves in among the ranges, which gives 'em plenty chances to steal cattle.'

  This produced no result, the least interested man in the place being the one who should have resented it. Leaning against the bar, with one heel hooked over the foot-rail, he was rolling a smoke, and taking unusual care.

  The gunman went on with greater confidence; it was going to be easy money.

  `Sneakin' coward an' coyote--that's yore nester,' he rasped. `Any self-respectin' c'munity'd string 'em up on sight.' The savage gibe evoked no response, and he stabbed a finger at Sudden. `You agreein' with me?'

  The puncher was lighting his cigarette. His mind recalled `Whitey,' a killer of the same type whom he had been forced to slay during those hectic weeks at Windy. A cold rage possessed him. This man had come to butcher, in cold blood, someone he had never seen, and for mere gain. Well, he would not act, unless he must.

  `Did yu say somethin'?' he asked indifferently.

  `On'y that nesters is cowardly thieves an' oughta be wiped out,' Lukor snapped.

  `Mebbe yu know best,' came the mild answer. `I ain't lost any nesters.'

  A tinge of red in the bully's cheeks showed that he was becoming really angry; this stupid fool was making it difficult. He must depart from his usual routine, and force the issue. `No, an' you ain't got no guts neither, you--'

  With the words, he had fallen into a crouch, his right hand hovering, claw-like, over the butt of his gun. Sudden, watching the other hand, saw it drop, with the speed of a striking hawk, to the holster on that side; the weapon was clear of its container when fire jetted from the puncher's left hip and Lukor staggered. For an instant he kept his feet, and then, with a choking grunt, lurched forward, and as his knees gave, collapsed on the sanded floor, his drawn gun thudding beside him.

  Sudden knelt and raised his shoulders, disclosing a gaping wound at the base of the throat. As he did so, the eyes opened, and a spark of recognition shone in them.

  'Yo're--not--Drait,' the man muttered thickly. `Yo're-- The head fell to one side, and another gunman had died--as did most of his kind--`with his boots on.' Sudden straightened out the body, placed the hat over the face, and stood up.

  At that moment the sheriff came bustling in, elbowed a way through the crowd which had swarmed round as soon as the shooting was over, and demanded :

  `What's happenin' here?'

  `Nothin'--now,' the puncher told him drily. 'Yo're in time to take charge o' the corpse--as usual.'

  `I'm in time to take charge o' the killer, too,' Camort retorted. `You know this fella?'

  `On'y by hearsay,' Sudden replied. `Name of Lukor--knowed too as "Finger-shy." His guns were for hire, an' there's a sheaf o' sheriffs further East honin' to hang him. His dodge was to make a show o' gain' for the right-hand gun an' usin' the left, in spite o' the missin' finger. By all accounts, it fooled a lot o' fellas.'

  `An' you knew about it, o' course?' Camort sneered.

  `No, he told me,' Sudden said. `You see, he picked up some change so clumsily that it was plain he wanted me to notice the crippled paw, an' I wondered why.'

  `Which o' you st
arted the trouble?' A dozen voices told him. `Awright, I ain't deaf,' he said testily.

  `Why shouldn't you be?' Pilch asked. `Gawd knows yo're dumb.'

  When the laughter had subsided, Merker explained that the puncher had done everything to avoid a clash.

  `So Green was--cautious, huh?' the sheriff sneered. `Tried to duck out, in fact?'

  Sudden looked at him, and before those frosty eyes Camort's assumed merriment died swiftly.

  `Listen, yu makeshift,' the puncher said. `I didn't wanta fight that fella because I knew he wasn't after me, an' his last words proved it. When you came in just now it was Drait's body you expected to see. One thing more : yu are a liar, twister, an' a yaller dawg. Got any ideas?'

  The challenged man had one--to save his skin. `I am also the sheriff,' he reminded.

  `Yu'll be the late sheriff unless you get out, pronto,' was the scornful retort.

  Camort looked at the stony, threatening face, then at the grinning spectators, and slunk out like a punished puppy. An ironical cheer followed him through the swing-door.

  Chapter XVI

  Tidings of the tragedy arrived at Shadow Valley before the chief actor returned. One of Vasco's riders had been in Merker's, and running into Shorty on his way home, told the story in detail. `An' say,' he finished, `Don't git fresh with that Green person--who shore has a most misleadin' monicker--an' handles a six-shooter like he'd cut his teeth on one.'

  `Fast, huh?' Shorty queried.

  `Lightnin's that, but you can see it,' the newsbringer replied. `There's nothin' wrong with my eyes, but Green's draw beat 'em. An' he had to hump hisself, that trick o' goin' for one gun an' usin' t'other was mighty bafflin'. An' that's Gawspel truth. Well, gotta be pushin' along--I'd just hate for anyone to beat me in with this news.'

  `I'm aimin' to be early my own self,' Shorty grinned.

  He got his wish, and by the time Sudden arrived, the story was common property in the Valley. Quilt opened the gate for him.

  `Anythin' fresh in town, Jim?' he asked casually.

  `Nothin' to speak of,' was the equivocal reply.

  He rode on, and Quilt scratched his head. `Cool?' he asked himself. `I guess ice on him'd on'y git harder. An' he shore is closely related to a clam.'