Sudden Plays a Hand (1950)

by Oliver Strange

  `Forget it,' Sudden said hastily. `The Judge is goin' to dismiss the jury; he mustn't do that.'

  He stepped on the platform, to be greeted with a sour look of surprise, and a sharp, `Well, sir?'

  `This business ain't finished,' the puncher said bluntly. `Mebbe this'll interest you.' He laid a letter on the desk.

  Fear gripped the jurist as he read. Briefly, the document informed all whom it might concern, that the bearer, James Green, was deputed to enquire into the Pavitt succession, and other irregularities in and around Midway, and to deal with them as he thought fit. All officials were required to give him every assistance. It was signed, 'Bleke, Governor.'

  The Judge drew a difficult breath. He could vision himself losing everything, even his lioerty, for the Governor's attitude to ill-doers justified his name. `I wish you had made yourself known to me earlier.' Sudden smiled. `What do you wish me to do?'

  `Tell 'em the show ain't over.'

  The Judge rapped for silence, and made the announcement, rather more grandiloquently than the puncher had put it, and the audience, eager for the excitement, quietened down.

  `What next?'

  Sudden pointed to Cullin, who, slumped in his seat, chin on chest, seemed oblivious to what was happening. Indeed, the revelation that the woman he coveted was married to the man he hated, following by the latter's triumph, had mentally stunned him. Put that man in the dock.'

  Towler gasped, doubting his own ears. 'Cullin's the most powerful man in these parts,' he expostulated.

  `Not just now,' Sudden reminded.

  The old man shivered, called the sheriff, and gave the order. Camort convinced that his chief had gone mad, stammered, `Ain't feelin' sick, are you?'

  The Judge was--very sick. `Do as I tell you,' he snapped.

  Like one awaking from an evil dream, Cullin sprang to his feet. `What the hell's the meanin' o' this, Towler? Are you crazy?' he cried.

  `Charges have been made against you, Mister Cullin, and must be investigated--in your own interest.' The mild answer brought reason. Cullin felt no apprehension; he had covered his trail too cleverly, but it would be foolish to antagonise those present. So he dropped his bluster, and laughed.

  `Never thought of it thataway, but yo're right.' He stepped jauntily into the dock, and as he passed, the sheriff deftly lifted the gun from his holster. At any other time he would have been struck down, but the rancher merely shrugged; he had a part to play.

  He did it well. As he faced the whispering, excited crowd, few suspected the furnace of fury raging in his breast. One thing puzzled him--what had the cowboy to do with it? `Well, Towler, trot out yore charges,' he challenged.

  It was the cowboy who answered. `What amount did yu promise Seale if he succeeded in not findin' the heir, an' got permission to sell the ranch?'

  `I made no promise an' knew nothin' of his plans. I was willin' to buy the range if it came on the market.'

  Sudden produced the letter found in the lawyer's office, and the Judge read it aloud.

  `I never wrote that,' Cullin denied. `It's a forgery.'

  `A small matter, anyway,' Sudden remarked carelessly. `But that don't go for yore plot to get Drait plugged in Little Basin.' `With which I had no connection.'

  `On'y to put up the money, two hundred apiece; Tomini talked, Cullin,' the puncher said sternly. `Well, they bungled it, so yu had to try again. This time yu raised the ante, an' offered a thousand to Lukor, a notorious professional killer.'

  `Whose name I never heard till after the shootin',' the rancher sneered.

  `Two witnesses can testify yu called on him at the Rideout hotel the day afore he came to Midway.'

  `Liars are easy found.'

  `Yu oughta know. Lukor fell down on the job, an' stayed down,' Sudden went on grimly. `He picked the wrong man; yore description must 'a' been lackin' some. For yore own safety, yu decided to let Drait live a little longer, an' turned yore attention to grabbin' the S P. As usual, yu hired others to do the dirty work. They were to steal an' hide cattle so that yu could collect 'em when the owner had been scared into sellin' yu the ranch. Yore rustlers were careless, the cows traced an' fetched back to Shadow Valley.'

  `You oughta be writin' dime novels,' Cullin said, but his eyes were uneasy.

  `That gave you yore chance; it shore looked like an open an' shut case o' rustlin',' Sudden continued. `The sheriff was instructed to arrest Drait, an' yu had the S P owner kidnapped so that she could not interfere.'

  `That's an infernal lie,' Cullin cried, with a fine air of indignation.

  The puncher's reply was to hand the Judge the letter he had found on the sheriff's desk. The reading caused a sensation.

  Cullin dismissed it in two words : `Another forgery.'

  `No,' the Judge said firmly. `Comparing these with others in my possession, I find the writing identical.'

  `On the strength of two letters I never wrote, and a lot o' guess-work, I've been accused of attempts to break the law, but Drait is still alive, the lady is back in our midst, an' I still do not own the S P. My career of crime seems to be a failure.'

  `Not quite,' Sudden corrected. `Once yu succeeded, an' that once will hang yu, Cullin. I mean the murder of Eddie Olsen.'

  The blow went home. Confidence left him, fear taking its place.

  `Easy to accuse,' he said. `Where's yore proof?'

  `With his last breath, Gilman named yu.'

  `He allus hated me. A dead man's word; is that all?' Cullin jeered.

  Sudden beckoned towards the door, and two men sitting by it rose and walked to the platform. Exclamations of wonder followed their recognition. `Bull an' Frayle. What's comin' now?' men asked.

  `Bardoe, yu saw Olsen die. What happened?'

  `Nine of us went to throw a scare into Drait. Olsen said he warn't to home. Cullin called him a liar, clutched his throat, an' swore to choke the truth out'n him; he choked the life out instead. Me an' Frayle protested, but he was past listenin', just murder-mad. When it was done, he told two o' his men to hang the body from a limb, and said it would show Drait we meant business.'

  Sudden looked at Frayle. 'Anythin' to add?'

  `No, that's just how it was.'

  The pitiful story brought a low, threatening growl, mixed with forcible expressions of disgust. Cullin shot a furtive glance at the spectators; contempt, cold condemnation, ironical curiosity, satisfaction, all these things he read in the hard faces, but no pity. He made a last effort :

  `What are they payin' you for these lies, Bardoe?' he asked.

  `A lot less'n you offered me for robbin' the S P an' carryin' off its mistress,' was the reply. The rustler's fierce eyes swept the gathering. `Every word I've said is God's own truth, an' if I have to follow you into the dock, I won't squeal--if they clean it out first. I ain't proud o' my record but it don't include guzzlin' an unarmed cripple.'

  Cries of `Good for you, Bull,' followed the rustler's denunciation, and the prisoner's last shred of hope vanished. In the moment of deadly peril, he was without a friend. Even the quaking tool he had used and abused was solely concerned with his own danger. In every grim face he read the fate awaiting him. The twisted, tortured features of Eddie dangled before his eyes, mocking him. An icy hand seemed to clutch his heart as he looked at Drait and the girl who had cheated him. Frenziedly he strove to think, and then, in a flash, hope was reborn, mad, fantastic, but possible. Towler was turning to the jury; he must act now.

  `Judge, I would like a private word with Drait an' his wife,' he said, all arrogance gone from his voice. `It's vital--to them.'

  The Judge nodded, and head oowed in an attitude of dejection, Cullin watched the approach of the woman he hungered for and the man he hated. Not until they were quite close did he look up.

  `Well, Cullin, what is it?' Nick asked.

  `This,' the rancher hissed. His right hand flashed to his shoulder, the gun cracked, and even as Drait was falling, the assassin's left hand swung the girl round, and the still-smoking muzzle o
f his weapon was pressed against her head.

  `Freeze, all o' you,' he shouted. `A hurt to me, kills her.'

  It was true; the hammer of his gun was held back only by a thumb, and her life depended on it remaining so. Many present could have shot him down, but it meant two lives. So they sat in their seats, petrified, helpless, while he strode from the dock, thrusting his captive before him.

  Dazed by the swiftness of the tragedy, and kept conscious only by the biting grip of steel talons which seemed to penetrate to the bone, the girl moved forward. Cullin did not hurry--he knew he was safe, and a fiendish snarl of triumph distorted his lips. Savage, impotent men watched his progress to the door, which he forced the girl to open, and heard the gibing `Adios' as it slammed behind him, and the key turn.

  For a moment they stared at one another, and then Sudden acted. Picking up a heavy chair, he hurled it at the nearest window; glass and framework vanished together. He leapt through, dashed to his horse, and flung himself into the saddle. Which way?

  `He'll make for the Big C to get cash an' fresh horses,' he told himself.

  He found the trail, a mere wagon-way, which after crossing a brush-dotted mile or so of plain, zigzagged through a procession of shallow wooded ravines and low ridges. It was from one of the latter that he got a glimpse of the killer. He had not waited to take a second horse, and the girl--who appeared to be unconscious--was slung across the saddlebow. Only for a moment

  they were visible before entering a timbered tract, but the puncher's knowledge of horseflesh told him something. `He's got a good start, Nig, but that hoss is weakenin'.' He stroked the curving silken neck, and the black quickened its pace, eager to show this master who never ill-treated, what it could do. When next they sighted the fugitive he was appreciably nearer, and commencing a long, gradual incline. Sudden smiled mirthlessly.

  `We've got him, of fella,' he said. `That rise'll bust his bronc wide open.'

  He was right. The double burden and killing speed had already taken toll, and only incessant spurring kept the exhausted beast going. The climb proved the last straw, and the black began to gain rapidly. Cullin glanced back, and his right arm rose and fell furiously as the brute above flogged the nobler brute beneath. Somehow the gallant animal, dying on its feet, reached the crest and was lost to sight. Sudden was a scant fifty yards behind.

  This distance covered, the ground dropped a little and then rose sharply, and here the trail swung off along a rather narrow shelf, with vertical cliff on one side, and a precipice on the other. An outflung natural buttress engaged Sudden's attention. His dismounted.

  `He's got a gun,' he said. `Better "look afore we leap"--into sight.'

  There was no trap. Cullin's horse had foundered, and lay on its side, breathing, but useless. The rancher was standing near the brink of the abyss, holding the drooping girl to his side. Sudden walked towards them stopping a dozen paces away.

  `Well, Green, I still hold the high card,' he taunted. `Listen: I wanted this woman, so bad I was willin' to kill to get her. That dream's gone. I'm just usin' her. An' see, my gun's empty.' He pulled out the weapon, snapped the hammer six times, and thrust it behind his waist-belt, not without some difficulty.

  `What's yore proposition?'

  'I'll trade her life for mine. Give yore word to let me go unhurt an' I'll place her in safety.'

  Sudden reflected a moment. He suspected a ruse, but could not divine it. In any case, if he got the girl away from that horrible chasm, he could take care of himself.

  `It's a deal,' he said.

  With every sense alert, he watched the rancher convoy his prisoner to the cliff wall, where she subsided listlessly. Then Cullin turned and walked away, his right arm swinging by his side. Sudden's eyes narrowed; the swing was lengthening, the hand going nearly waist-high, where the empty weapon hadbeen stowed. Tensed and ready, he stood, watching and waiting. Then it happened. Cullin had gone but a few steps when he whirled and fired, doubtless counting on a surprise. But Sudden had caught the beginning of the movement and his own gun was spouting flame at the same instant. He felt the scorch of the lead on his cheek, and saw the traitor stagger back under the impact of the heavy slug. His face drawn with pain and fraught with fear, the murderer tottered, fighting to regain his balance, only to lurch sideways, step on nothing, and with a strangling cry, vanish into the void.

  The puncher pushed his hat back and wiped the clammy moisture from his brow. Not till then did he become aware of voices. Yorky, Pilch, and half a dozen others were beside him. `You ain't hurt, Jim?' the boy asked fearfully. `Gawd, you were quick.'

  `Shore had to be,' Sudden replied. `It was a close call.' He explained the desperate trick Cullin had tried.

  `Well, saves soilin' a rope,' Pilch said callously. `Though I wouldn't 'a' grudged it.'

  The girl, ashen-faced and moving shakily, joined them, anxious for news of her husband. Only Yorky, who had started behind the others and caught them up, could tell her anything:

  `He's hard hit, an' they're takin' him to Merker's, an' sendin' to Rideout for a doctor; Midway don't have none.'

  With this she had to be content.

  Chapter XXIII

  Doctor Bolus - so he called himself--was middle-aged, and slight of frame, with a kindly face in which the eyes smiled. Why he chose to reside in this wild region nobody knew or cared; he was skilled, liked, and respected. The citizens gathered in Merker's bar to await his first report fell silent when they noted the gravity of his expression.

  `It's a bad business, but he has a chance--a very slim one,' he announced. `Cannot be moved, so you can say farewell to your bedroom for some weeks, Merker.'

  After a moment's thought, Merker said, `Not reflectin' nohow on yore ability, doc, I'm layin' you twenty dollars to one you don't save Nick.'

  His eyes twinkling, Bolus accepted the wager, and the others on the same terms which followed. Merker, ousy making out a list, said:

  `How far you prepared to go, doc? More o' the boys'll want in on this.'

  The sky's the limit,' the little man smiled. `And I'm staying in Midway to win the money.'

  `That's good to hear, sir,' the Judge said. `You'll be the town's guest, and anything your patient needs will be got.'

  So it came to pass that Midway went about both business and pleasure on tiptoe, as it were. Every day men stepped softly into the saloon to read the latest bulletin, and for the first two weeks went away with disconsolate faces. To their queries the doctor had but one reply:

  `I am doing all that is possible, and he has the most devoted nurse I ever met; she's just killing herself, and I'll have to speak to her.'

  He did so, to be met with a stubborn refusal to leave the sickroom. He had his argument ready : `What's going to happen if your health breaks down?'

  The possibility appalled her, and she capitulated on the condition that the doctor took her place, to which he readily agreed. Her first excursion brought astonishment. Every few yards men she had never seen stopped and shyly asked for news of the nester. This universal anxiety delighted her until an enquirer provided an apparent explanation.

  `You just gotta pull him through, ma'am,' he said. `There's a lot o' dollars dependin' on it.'

  She returned to the saloon seething with anger. Her crimson face told the doctor something had gone wrong.

  The callous brutes !' she cried. `They are actually gambling on my husband's life.'

  `You misjudge them,' Bolus returned quietly, and gave the facts. `So you see,' he concluded, `it is their way of offering me a fantastic fee to insure I will do my best. Do you know what happened this morning when I gave Merker a favourable report? Most of the wagers were doubled. You see, they want to lose.'

  `I shall never understand the Westerner,' she said ruefully.

  A day or so later Mary met Sudden, whom she had not seen since the tragedy, and asked a question : `Jim, how did you know we were married?'

  `I didn't; it was just a hunch,' he replied.

 
`Was that the card they might not know of?'

  `Yeah, but I wanted yu to play it,' he grinned.

  She did not quite believe his ignorance--he had most discerning eyes, this Mister Green, and the twinkle in them wrought confusion in her cheeks. Perhaps this was why he changed the subject.`When am I goin' to see Nick?'

  `Soon,' she promised.

  But a week passed before the meeting came about, and Sudden received a shock. The nester, propped up by pillows, was a mere shadow of his former self. However, there was a smile on the gaunt, pale face.

  `My, Jim, it's good to see you,' he said. `Me? I'm doin' fine. Tell me the news.'

  `Ain't much. Quilt an' the rest of us are lookin' after the S P an' the Valley, Sturm an' his riders bein' plenty absent. Seale took a notion to travel. The Judge gave Camort ten years in the pen, but we had to sneak him out after dark to save his neck. Cullin? Oh, he fell over the cliff.'

  `Yeah, that's what Mary told me, but she used more words,' Drait said drily. `Jim, I've been tryin' to figure out my debt to you.' Sudden started to rise. `Awright, cuss you, I'll be dumb. Who's takin' Stinker's place?'

  `Bardoe.' Sheer surprise kept Nick silent. `He's a changed man, but still feared, an' I think he'll make good. Bein' peace-officer is no picnic; I've had some.' He smiled reminiscently as he recalled hectic months in a tough little town on the Mexican oorder, months of almost daily danger.

  Nick was silent for some moments, and then, `Jim, how did you make Towler put Cullin in the dock?' He nodded sagely when he had heard the explanation. `Guessed you warn't an ornery cow-wrastler,' he said. `Well, havin' cleaned up I s'pose you'll be hittin' the trail soon?'

  `Not till yo're in the saddle again, or-timer.'

  `I'll be damn lonely in the Valley,' Nick said gloomily. `Time's more than through,' came a voice from the door.

  Outside, Mary was waiting, anxious enquiry in her eyes. `He's lookin' better'n I expected,' Sudden promptly lied. `A mite depressed, mebbe. I guess it's on'y heart trouble.'

  `Only?' she gasped in alarm, and then the dawning smile made his meaning clear. `Jim, you're a--dear,' she cried, and hurriedly retreated.