Having unsaddled and turned his mount into the corral, Sudden was making for the bunkhouse when Drait hailed him. The nester did not beat about the bush.
`So you've been takin' my place in Midway?' he began.
`Shucks!' was the disgusted reply. `This is the most chatter-some country I ever was in. Did they tell yu I bought seegars in Merker's too? Have one.'
Nick lit up. `Then it's true?' he said.
`I dunno what yu've heard,' Sudden replied, and when he had been told, went on. `That's about the size of it.'
`How come he took you for me?'
`We're both biggish, an' I had my hat pulled down. Likewise, I was ridin' one o' yore hosses.'
Drait looked at him sharply. `Anythin' wrong with Nigger?' `I've been workin' him middlin' hard; he was due for a rest.'
`You steered me off town. Were you lookin' for trouble?' `Never had to yet,' Sudden laughed.
Drait digested this evasion in silence; he was no fool, and he knew that he again owed, perhaps his life, to this chance-met comrade.
`Jim, yo're on'y a passable liar an' Yorky ain't much better,' he said. `Don't think I ain't grateful, but this has gotta stop; I'm too old for dry-nursin'.'
`Nick, I wasn't expectin' a showdown, but I did hope to get a line on what was afoot,' Sudden said soberly. `He rushed me.' `Did you know this Finger-shy gent?'
`On'y by repute; he was just a professional killer an' crooked at that, but he was over-confident an' showed his hand too plain,' Sudden said with a sinister smile. `What about grub? I'm as empty as the sheriff's head.'
There was no demonstration when they entered the bunkhouse, nor any reference to the day's happening; with innate delicacy, the cowboys knew that taking life, even justifiably, was not a thing a man would want to talk about. Smoky just grinned and said :
`Glad yo're back for supper, Jim. Long has threatened some-thin' special tonight.'
`An' "threatened" is the right word,' Shorty supplemented. `When Long passes in his checks, someone else will oe the worst cook in the world.'
Which specimen of brotherly love restored the normal atmosphere and put everyone at ease.
Cullin called the S P the following morning, and finding that Mary knew nothing of the gun-fight, gave her the details, dwelling especially on Lukor's error.
`He intended to kill Mister Drait?' she cried. `But why, if they were strangers?'
`If,' the rancher shrugged. `I'm told that the fella talked o' bein' in Midway to avenge a sister's honour, but meobe it was on'y an excuse; his kind has to have one.'
He saw her face darken; however little a wife may care for her husband, the advent of another woman is rarely welcome. But she did not speak.
`That cowboy, Green, is a mighty good watch-dog,' Cullin continued. `He's done a lot for Nick.'
`I, also, am in his debt,' she reminded quietly.
`Same here,' he smiled. `For what he has done for you; I wish it had been my luck.'
`But you have helped, and I am grateful.'
`On'y that? Well, I mustn't be impatient, but I want you to like me very much--Mary.'
She flushed--it was the first time he had used her front name --but she affected not to notice. He left soon after, to her relief. Staring, almost with unseeing eyes, at the great panorama before her, she tried to analyse her feeling for Cullin. Did she really like him, or was it the fascination a forceful man who knew the world must have for a young, inexperienced girl? She could not decide. Admiring him, enjoying his company, at the back of her mind was an instinctive warning, vague but insistent. She shook her head and was glad to see Yorky rocketing towards her. The boy was bursting with excitement; Smoky had brought him a note from Jim, and of course, spilled the whole story.
`You heard 'bout th' ruckus in town, ma'am?' he blurted out, as he flung himself from the saddle.
`Yes,' she said. `Mister Cullin told me.'
`Cullin? Why he--was here then?' She did not notice the hesitation, due to the warning Smoky had delivered.
`Naturally,' she said, and very gravely. `It is a terrible affair; I am glad Mister Green escaped injury.'
`It'll take a damned good man to git Jim, by fair means,' Yorky replied pridefully.
`Ifhe'd done it, I'd 'a' got him--somehow.'
The hardening of the youthful face, firmed lips, and slitted vengeful eyes told that this was no vain brag. Then, ashamed of the emotion he had displayed, came the excuse, `Jim's been awful good to me, ma'am.'
`I understand,' she replied gently. `He's been awful good to me also. Someday, I hope he'll let me tell him so.'
`He'd ruther you didn't,' the boy said bluntly. `Sooner be cussed than thanked, durn him.'
`I'm afraid that's true,' she smiled. `Yorky, why did that wretched man want to kill Mister Drait? Was it because of some old score?'
`Guess not. If Lukor had knowed the Boss, he'd never 'a' mistaken Jim for him.'
`Why, of course,' she cried, and wondered at the sudden warm glow in her breast.
`He was hired for the job,' the boy went on. `An' got just what he deserved. As for the white-livered houn' who employed him....'
`It is hard to believe such monsters exist,' she said. `Do you think it might be Bardoe? They fought before.'
`Mebbe, but Smoky sez Bull would 'a' done the deed hisself an' saved his dollars.'
`I'm afraid of that man,' she confessed.
`You don't have to be, ma'am,' he told her. `We're all alookin' after you.'
`I know it,' she smiled. `I mustn't be foolish.'
When she had gone, Yorky relieved his feelings with a mild oath. Something was troubling her.
`Why didn't Nick come along here with th' outfit an' take hold for her?' he asked the world. `Stuck on showin' Midway he could hang on to Shadow Valley, I s'pose.'
Which was only part of the truth, and by no means the most important.
Chapter XVII
The extinction of a gunman as a topic of interest lasted less than two weeks, and the town resumed the uneven tenor of its way. By this time, Cullin's impatience reached its limit. He had paid several visits to the S P, only to realise that he was making no progress. The girl was friendly, but that was all, and he began to suspect more interest in Draft than she would admit; the thought made him furious. The removal of the nester was not enough; he must be discredited in her eyes. His plans were taking shape, and they carried him to the 8 B. As he rode up, two men came out, Gilman and Lamond.
`I heard you'd skipped,' he said. `Ridin' for Bull?'
`Gotta do somethin' for our chuck,' was how Beau described it. His head was still bandaged.
`A change for you,' Cullin replied. His humour generally contained a sting. `You come near not needin' any, I understand.' At that moment Pardoe came out; he had heard the voices. `What's the trouble?' he asked.
The Big C man saw that he had overplayed his hand. `Aw, forget it. Mebbe I ribbed 'em too hard; I was on'y joshin'.' It was an apology, of a kind, but two pairs of baleful eyes followed him as he disappeared into the house. His host pointed to a chair, and said, `Ain't you got more sense than to quarrel with men who might yet be useful?'
`They've bungled everythin' so far.'
`You ain't bin such a howlin' success. Drait's still in the Valley, firmer rooted than ever, an' with the town lookin' sideways at Camort....'
'Yo're tellin' me news,' Cullin said sarcastically.
`You act like you didn't know it,' Bull returned, in the same vein. `What do you want now, anyway?'
Cullin hesitated, purposely, and then, `I did have a proposition, but if yo're buryin' the hatchet with Drait, I'll be off.' `Please yoreself,' Bull shrugged. `But any hatchet I bury'll be in the beggar's skull.'
`He's had the devil's own luck.'
`An' friends he can trust. That's where you fall down, you've on'y got people you pay, an' don't trust. What was Lukor's price?'
`How should I know?'
`Like I said,' Bardoe sniggered. `Shall we mention a thousand bu
cks?' The rancher's slight start of surprise told the guess was a near one. `It would 'a' bin worth it, if--but there's allus an "if," Greg, ain't there?'
The visitor lit a cigar and rolled another across the table. Inwardly boiling, he forced himself to speak calmly. `S'pose you stop yappin' about what doesn't concern you an' listen to some-thin' that may.'
`Shoot.' Bull leaned back in his chair and expelled a screen of smoke, behind which he grinned in real enjoyment.
`I want some cattle lifted, an' it's goin' to be worth more than a thousand to you,' Cullin began. `It's the S P. Rustle a few, at short intervals, an' don't monkey with the brand. Keep 'em hidden some place, an' I'll pay ten a head when I take over.'
Bardoe pondered. `I don't savvy the game.'
`It ain't necessary you should.'
`That's what you think,' the other said curtly. `Find a bigger fool.'
Cullin swallowed the word `Impossible' and managed to say quietly, `I'm aimin' to bleed the S P white, give the owner a lesson, an' compel her to sell.'
`You bin after that range a good while. Too bad that cowboy routin' out the gal. Why don't you marry her?'
`That's another reason for carryin' out my plan; poverty is a fine reducer o' pride. Get on with it, Bull, an' when we're good an' ready, we'll take another whirl at that cussed nester.'
`It's a bet,' Bardoe said. `Sturm was one o' yore men, huh?'
`Yeah, you'll find the beasts bunched up--preparations for a round-up, likely. The outfit is bone-lazy 'cept one--Green's sidekick, Yorky; he's awake.'
`That damned young cub?' Bull exploded. `I've a score to settle with him. Awright, Greg; you've hired a man.'
When the visitor had departed, Bardoe indulged in a burst of laughter. `Bleedin' is a game two can play at, Mister Clever Cullin, but I'm with you part o' the way. Then mebbe it'll be you to git the lesson.'
The rustler's face was never pleasing; now it was hideous--a jeering mask of hatred.
The sun, slowly climbing into the blue vault above, was warming the keen, sage-scented air, which was yet cool enoughto make movement pleasurable. Away on the horizon the mountains were beginning to unwind their swathed wrappings of mist. It was a grand sight, but Drait's eyes were more often--unknown to her--on the girl by his side, noting the upright poise of her lissome body, the curve of her cheek, or the errant curl with which the light breeze was playing.
Mary too, was less attentive to the view. She was thinking of a ride with Cullin two days earlier. The contrast was marked. But she had to admit that he was more restful than the impetuous admirer from the Big C.
`Feed looks fine,' he remarked presently. `Not many cattle showin'.'
It was not long before they came across a score or more, and got near enough to look them over. `In good shape,' Drait conceded. `But there's some need brandin'.'
Mary looked annoyed. `That should have been attended to. I told Sturm he would find several about here.'
`How's he shapin'?'
She said the man was satisfactory, so far. They reached another small herd, containing more which had `missed the iron.' `I guess Gilman's fellas had an easy time,' Drait commented.
`They're still having it, apparently,' Mary said bitterly. It hurt her pride that this man, especially, should find subject for criticism when she had hoped for praise; Sturm must be made to understand he was there to obey orders.
`Know anythin' about yore fellas?'
`They close right up when I'm near. All I get out of them is "Yes, ma'am," or "No, ma'am." They're different from the Valley men.'
Draft grinned. `You bet they are. I'm boss, but those rascals are my friends, an' they know that, come what may, I'll stand by any or all of 'em to the finish. Such wouldn't serve under a Gilman. Now, what's yore trouble?'
She was about to deny, but he interrupted : `Don't say it; yore lips weren't made for lyin'--Mary.' The word slipped out --he had not meant to use it. He saw the red tide rise in her cheeks, out he could not know that her veins were tingling as they had not done when Cullin took the same liberty. `You see,' he went on hurriedly: `This is a stiff job you've taken on, an' it can't be mastered in a few weeks, though you've done amazin' well. O' course, you don't have to tell me, but....'
`I'm losing cattle,' she confessed helplessly. `Just a score perhaps at a time.'
`What's yore foreman doin' about it?'
The men are night-riding, but while they watch one part of the range, the thieves visit another.'
`Someone's gettin' information. Don't worry; these things happen, an' you must expect a loss now an' again, but it's gotta be looked into.'
Presently they encountered Yorky. `Able to find yore way around better?' Drait wanted to know. `I'm learnin' how th' land lies,' the boy replied.
`Mind the land don't learn how you lie,' the nester grinned. `These missin' steers now; got anythin' to tell us?'
`Yestiddy there was fifty right here, an' today I can't round up thirty; also, hoss-tracks in circles don't come o' theirselves.' `Have you reported to Sturm?' Mary asked.
`No, ma'am, I was aimin' to try an' track 'em down m'self.' `You any good at trailin'?' Nick asked.
`Not very,' was the modest reply. `Jim can read sign like an Injun.'
`We'll try him out. He'll be over in the mornin', an' we won't tell even the foreman. Sabe?'
`I'll be as dumb as a dead nigger,' Yorky promised.
When they reached the house, the sight of newly-turned soil jogged her memory. `I haven't thanked you for that suggestion,' she said.
Nick looked unhappy. `It warn't mine,' he blurted out. `It was Jim's, an' he fathered it on me, I dunno why. Don't let on I told you--I expect he had a reason.'
Her woman's instinct enabled her to make a near guess, and neither of the men suffered in her estimation by the disclosure. `We'll round up some roots for you--there's plenty in the Valley,' Drait went on.
`I'd rather have those than any,' she replied eagerly, and saw his grave face light up.
`Which is fine to hear,' he said.
The firm clasp of his fingers remained after he had left. Her eyes softened at the puncher's attempt to do his friend a good turn, and that friend's refusal to accept credit not due to him. She went into the kitchen.
`Lindy, what do you think of Mister Green?'
- `Reckon he's all man, honey, an' dey's sca'ce. Massa Nick's one, foh sho', but dat Cullin
`Is kind to me,' Mary reminded sharply.
The black woman shook her head; she was not to be convinced.
Chapter XVIII
Early morning found Sudden at the S P, and having collected Yorky, heading for the scene of the latest raid. Sturm saw them, but having been told that the boy was showing the visitor over the range, was not interested; if the time of a hand was wasted, it was the owner's affair.
The evidence on the spot was plain enough. Sudden studied the tracks closely.
`About twenty-five cows, convoyed by five riders,' he decided. `One of 'em forkin' a shod hoss, with a cross in the off hind shoe, for luck, mebbe.'
The depth of the imprints told that the beasts had been hard-driven, but after a mile had been covered, the pace fell off as the undulating plain gave place to broken, wild country.
`I ain't envying' 'em,' Sudden remarked. `Must 'a' been a moon that night.'
`There was,' Yorky said. `An' they wasn't usin' th' trail for the first time neither.'
They had arrived at the edge of a miniature desert, roughly circular in shape, and about a mile across. Into this the trail plunged and ceased abruptly; a wind had swept the light, powdery sand into tiny ridges, obliterating every trace.
`Gotta ride around her an' find out where they came off,' the puncher said. `Take the left an' keep agoin' till we meet.'
It was Yorky who found the spot, the rustlers having borne well to his side in crossing the arid expanse. This was their first real attempt to blind their tracks, but it was followed by another necessitating a search of the oanks of a stream along
which the stolen cattle had been driven. A stretch of gravel next gave trouble, but after that the raiders apparently regarded themselves as safe. Finally, a stone-littered, winding pathway brought the trailers to what appeared to be a pile of rock. Closer inspection revealed an opening, masked by foliage, and secured by a barrier of newly-cut poles. Within was a cuplike depression, grass-carpeted, on which a herd was grazing. There was no sign of any herders, so they entered and walked their mounts forward until the brands were discernible.
`S P--over a hundred of 'em,' the puncher said. `An' as this place can't be far from Bardoe's range, it's an easy guess who fetched 'em here. Well, gotta get back an' report to Nick; I ain't trustin' Sturm.'
They took their time on the return journey, and evening was approaching when Shadow Valley was reached. Drait was awaiting them.
`Bardoe, no doubt,' he agreed. `That place is the Devil's Pocket; we'll have 'em out o' there tomorrow.'
`An' take 'em back to the S P?' Sudden asked.
`To be lifted again? No, they'll be safer here. We'll say nothin'; it'll be a pleasant surprise for--Miss Darrell. You two'll have to let her think you've failed, just for the time.'
`That's no matter,' Sudden smiled. `But ain't it rather risky to have stolen cows in the Valley?'
`Won't be for long, an' who's to know?' Nick argued. `Folks has to get permission to come in here now.'
He seemed set on the plan, and the puncher said no more but he did not like it; some intuition told him it would spell trouble. When the first streak of grey on the horizon proclaimed the coming of the dawn, Drait and his four men set out. Yorky had returned to the S P the night before; Sudden remained in charge of the Valley. It was late in the day when the outfit appeared again, driving a bawling bunch of steers; the Pocket had been emptied.
`Everythin' went slick as a greased rope,' the nester said. `We took it easy, fogged the trail some, an' went on a wide sweep to miss Bardoe's range. Never saw hide nor hair o' anyone.'
But the operation had not been quite so unobserved as he believed. When they were but a mile or so from home, one of Cullin's men had seen the herd from a distance and promptly investigated. Having dogged it to its destination, he carried the news to his employer, who frowned in perplexity when he heard it.
Sudden Plays a Hand (1950) Page 15