Sudden The Range Robbers (1930) s-9

by Oliver Strange

  `Ain't he a ring-tailed wonder?' whispered one of them to Dirty. `I reckon he oughtta be President o' the U-nited States.' `He shore can express himself awful easy,' admitted the other `I guess I'd sooner shoot than talk a thing out with him.'

  `Don't yu go makin' any mistakes about his shootin' either,' said the Frying Pan man. `He's a dead game sport.'

  By this time Leeming had let off steam, and with one of his astonishing changes was prepared to accept defeat more or less philosophically.

  `Well, boys, we seem to have had our trouble for nothin' they've been too clever for us,' he said. `I reckon they must have had some hosses yu didn't see, Green, or else some more o' the damn thieves happened along to shift the herd.'

  The Y Z man nodded agreement, though in reality neither of the solutions satisfied him. Laban's sudden departure recurred to his mind but he could find nothing to connect an apparent stranger with the rustlers. Even if it had been done as a matter of spine against himself, it seemed inconceivable that Laban would know where to send the warning.

  `Guess we'd better have a look round, now we're here,' he said. `Sorry we missed the cows, Leeming.'

  `Ain't nobody's fault--just bad luck,' returned the Frying Pan boss. `Mebbe we'll pick up the trail.'

  Spreading out, they combed the sides of the valley thoroughly, and found one steer only in the thick underbrush, where it had evidently been overlooked by the rustlers when the herd was gathered for a getaway. Job studied the altered brand with interest.

  `Never heard of it,' he commented. `They made a good job of in. Wonder where they're sellin"em?'

  At the far end there was a break in the saucer-like rim which shut the valley in, and this seemed to promise another outlet, but when nhey reached it they found that it was closed by a perpendicular ledge of rock eight feet above the grass level of the valley. From the ledge a strip of sand led through a narrow opening in the cliff to the country beyond. The stream entered at a deep gully not a yard wide, a passage impracticable even for a horse. There appeared to be no way of reaching the ledge save by climbing and the sand above it showed no tracks.

  `Must have took 'em out at the other end again,' said Job. `An' that leaves us just where we was before. No good losin' time here, ooys; we'd better head for home.'

  Chapter XIII

  ON the following morning the foreman of the Y Z appeared at breakfast with a grin on his face, which broadened considerably when his eyes rested on Green.

  `I hear yu didn't catch many rustlers,' he began.

  `Yu heard correct,' the puncher said quietly.

  `Yu was lookin' for 'em in the wrong place,' went on the foreman. `While you an' Job was pirootin' round that blind canyon, they was busy at the Frying Pan, liftin' another hundred head. S'pose that's news to yu?'

  Green looked at the maliciously triumphant speaker in blank amazement; it certainly was news and of the very worst kind. What he liked still less was the meaning sneer conveyed in the question.

  `Yu suggestin' it might not be news to me?' he asked.

  The foreman hesitated. He had, only a little while before, plainly stated to his employer his belief that this man was working with the rustlers, and than the trip to the blind canyon was merely a ruse to leave the Frying Pan open for another raid. `A damn good exchange too, a hundred cows for a couple o' cayuses,' he had sneered. `If he was playin' straight, why didn't he drop the men 'stead o' the hosses? Accordin' to his story, they was shootin' at him.' Now, he would have given all he possessed to shout `Yes' and go for his gun, but he could not do it; the narrowed, grim eyes of the cowpuncher seemed to hypnotise him. The other men watched in silence.

  Then Green spoke: `Take off yore belt, Blaynes,' he said, and at the same moment he unbuckled his own and laid it on the table. The foreman made no move.

  `Take it off, yu white-livered skunk,' rasped the other.

  The epithet cun like a lash, and with an oath, the foreman's right hand went to his belt, not to take it off, but to snatch the gun from its holster. In an instant Green divined his purpose and covered the space between them in one leap; his hands shot out and gripped the foreman's wrists just as the pistol cleared the scabbard. Madly Blaynes strove to loosen the clutch and aim the weapon, but he was powerless; he felt that he was held by steel vices which were being slowly tightened and were crushing the bones of his wrists. The pain was atrocious and the sweat showed in beads upon his forehead.

  `Drop that gun, yu cur!'

  The harsh order was hardly necessary, for already the weapon was falling from the numbed, lifeless fingers. As soon as he heard it thud upon the floor, Green released his grip and step

  ping back, swung his right first, and sent in a crashing blow which caught Blaynes on the point of the jaw, dashing him, stunned and senseless, into a corner of the room. Then he picked up his belt, buckled it on, and without a word left the bunkhouse.

  `Gosh!' said Durran, as he helped to lift the stricken man inno his bunk and tried to revive him. `I'd sooner be kicked by an army mule.'

  `Served him right for tryin' to pull a gun on an unarmed man,' snorted Dirty.

  `Well, mebbe it warn't the right play,' Durran had to admit; `but a foreman can't allow his outfit to rough-ride him.'

  `An' he can't rough-ride them neither, which is one o' the things Rattler's gotta learn,' retorted Dirty.

  On leaving the bunkhouse, Green went in search of Simon. He found him in his office, and the worried look on his face did not lighten when he saw the visitor. Green stated his business bluntly: `There's somenhin' yu have to know. Yore foreman accused me of runnin' with the gang that's rustlin' yore cows, tried to pull a gun on me, an' I knocked him cold. Reckon yu better give me my time.'

  Old Simon studied the puncher for a moment. He had had dealings with many men during an eventful life and could usually size one up to his own satisfaction at least, but this one puzzled him. He did not believe that Green was crooked, and that odd feeling of attraction which he had experienced before again assailed him. He became surprisedly aware that he was loth to let the puncher go.

  `What yu aimin' to do?' he asked.

  `Stay around,' replied the other. `I ain't double-crossin' yu an' I'm agoin' to prove it in time, but this ranch ain't big enough for me an' Blaynes. The next play he makes will be the finish--for him.'

  It was a plain statement of fact, with no trace of boast about it, and the cattle-owner knew that the speaker meant just what he said. He had to choose between the two men. For a while he was silent, trying to find a way out. Presently he hit upon one.

  `I ain't accusin' yu, an' Blaynes has been with me for some time,' he began slowly. `Supposin' yu stay on the pay-roll an' let on yu have quit. I reckon that would give yu more of a free hand.'

  The cowpuncher considered the proposition for a few moments and saw that it possessed advantages. As a mere loafer in town, attached to no ranch, he could not be regarded as a danger by the rustlers, and apart from the personal enmities he had acquired, which troubled him not at all, could expect to oerelieved of their attentions. Another possibility also presented itself.

  `I'll take yu,' he said, `but don't yu forget that I came to ask for my time, an' yu give it me.'

  `That's whatever,' Simon agreed. `We've had a hell of a row over yu beatin' up my foreman, an' we ain't on speakin' terms.' He produced a roll of bills and peeled off a number of them. `Here's what's due to yu, an' a month's pay in advance; yu want to be well heeled to hang about town. Where do yu aim to put up?'

  `The hotel--I'll hear all the news there. Yu had any offers for the range?'

  `Why, no,' said Simon in surprise, and then, `Well, Tarman did mention a figure, but in was so low that I took it he was jokin' an' laughed it off. What yu askin' that for?'

  `Just a notion I had,' replied Green. `Well, I'll be gettin' my war-bags an' hosses; I'm takin' Blue Devil with me.'

  `Shore, I gave yu the hoss,' Simon said.

  The cowpuncher returned to the bunkhouse and began to
pack his few belongings. The place was empty save for the invalid, Ginger, the rest of the outfit being abroad on various duties. Blaynes, according to the sick man, had eventually been restored to consciousness, and had departed, vowing all kinds of reprisals.

  `Looks like yu was preparin' for a long trip,' was the nearest approach to the question that Ginger would venture on. `Only to town, but I may be there quite a spell,' said Green. `I'll be at the hotel if I'm wanted,' he added meaningly. `So long, Ginger, an' good luck.'

  The wounded man asked no more, but through the open door he presently saw his friend ride away on Blue, leading his other pony, and drew his own conclusions. When, later in the day, Larry, with Dirty and Simple, rode in, he told them the news and a small indignation meeting was immediately held, which resulted in the three striding determinedly to the ranch-house. That they walked speaks eloquently for the state of their minds, for your cowboy normally will fork his pony to cross a street. Old Simon met them at the door.

  `Well, boys, what's eatin' yu,' he asked, scenting trouble from their perturbed appearance.

  `We understan' yu fired Green,' Larry blurted out.

  `Well, what of it?' asked the boss acidly.

  `We don't reckon he's had a square deal, an...' Larry bogged down.

  `We want our time,' Dirty came to the rescue.

  `We're speakin' for Ginger too,' added Simple, not to be left out.

  For about ten seconds the old man glared at them in speechless amazement, and then the storm broke :

  `Damnation!' he roared. `What the devil's it gotta do with yu if I fire a hand? Have I gotta ask a passel o' bone-headed cowwrastlers how I'm to run my own ranch? If yu want yore time yu can have it, every mother's son o' ye, but if yu got any sense at all yu'll get to hell out o' this an' mind yore own business, an' I reckon Green'll tell yu the same if yu ask him. Now, get out, 'fore I lose my wool over yu.'

  As Dirty put it afterwards, `The depitation then withdrew,' and the Old Man, with a final snort of disgust, vanished into the office.

  `An' now where are we?' disconsolately queried Larry, when they foregathered again at Ginger's bedside, and informed him of the result of their protest. `Did we resign, were we fired, or are we still "Wise-heads"?'

  ` "Bone-heads" the Old Man called us,' Dirty reminded. `But he didn't pay us off, so I reckon we still belong.'

  `One o' yu ride in tonight an' see Green,' suggested Ginger. This seemed a good idea and they cut the cards to decide who should make the trip. The choice fell to Larry, much to the disgust of the other two, which was not decreased when he added cheerfully, `Now yu gotta cut to see which o' yu takes my place line-ridin' to-night--I shan't be back in time likely.'

  `By Gosh, yu got nerve,' snorted Dirty.

  Nevertheless, being good fellows and good friends, they submitted, and in due course Larry set out in search of the man for whom they had gone on strike. He found him in the bar of the Folly, and far less grateful than the circumstances might seem to warrant. After listening to the emissary's account of the bearding of their employer and the reception they met with, he remarked :

  `Huh! "Bone-heads" he called yu, did he? Well, he got yu dead right. D'yu reckon any self-respectin' feller is goin' to let his men dictate to him? I wonder he didn't fire you straight away.'

  `We did it to help yu,' Larry reminded him.

  `Shore, I know,' smiled Green, `but yu get this into yore brainbox--yu can help me the best way by holdin' down yore jobs at the Y Z. There's dirty work goin' on, an' I'm aimin' to clean up before I leave the district, for my own satisfaction, yu understand. What yu gotta remember is that I'm an outawork puncher, layin' off for a spell, an' not too well disposed to the ranch that give me the bounce. When I want any o' yu I'll let yu know. Seen anythin' o' Job?'

  `Nope,' said Larry, `but I hear he's the maddest man this side o' the Rockies. Simple ran across Woods an' he said Leeming damn near blew up when they got back an' found another lot lifted. These fellers ain't sleepin' on their job for shore.'

  `All the same, they'll be caught nappin' one o' these days,' Green retorted, with a grin.

  `See here, Don,' wheedled Larry. `What about me cuttin' loose an' throwin' in with yu? The others can look after the ranch end of it, an' two of us can keep cases on these cutthroats better than one.'

  `Nothin' doin',' was the reply. `I'm playin' a lone hand for the present. Yu gotta toddle back to the Y Z like a good little boy, be very polite to the foreman, an' not too kind to me.'

  `That last bit'll be easy enough, yu hog,' returned his friend, and with a casual salutation, took his departure just as Tarman, his henchman, Pete, and the marshal came in together. Green had stepped over to the bar and was talking to Silas, to whom he had already confided his rupture with the Y Z, knowing that this would be the speediest way of spreading the version he wished to be known.

  `So yu ain't quittin' us for a while,' the bartender remarked. `Goin' to tie up with Leeming?'

  The puncher shook his head. `Guess I'll take a holiday,' he said. `Might do a bit o' prospectin' too; there oughta be gold in some o' them creeks towards Big Chief.'

  Tarman and his party were beginning a game of cards at a near-by table, and the puncher had spoken loudly enough for the words to reach them. He caught a quick look from the gambler.

  `Old Nugget don't seem to find much dust; if he does he spends it somewhere else,' Silas rejoined.

  `I've a hunch it's there anyways, an' I might as well give her a trial; I've got all the time there is,' Green said carelessly. He stood watching the play for a while and then went out.

  `Huh! Prospectin', eh?' said the marshal, as the door closed behind him. `Reckon he won't get very fat on that. Funny how a busted puncher's thoughts allus turn to gold-diggin'.' `Yu think he meant it then?' asked Poker Pete.

  `He said it loud enough.'

  `He said it too loud--he meant us to hear. I'll want to see him at work afore I swaller that.'

  `Bah! He won't trouble about us, Pete,' Tonk said. `He's through with the Y Z.'

  `No doubt o' that,' corroborated Tarman. `I was there this afternoon. He damn near killed Blaynes, an' Petter is mighty sore over it. He'd be a useful man.'

  The gambler swore luridly. `I'm agoin' to feed Mister Green to the buzzards,' he said savagely.

  `I ain't objectin', Pete,' Tarman observed. `But why not use him first? Think it over.'

  The man's voice was quiet, silken almost, but it carried a note of authority to which the gambler offered no further resistance. Tarman smiled. `Get him to the Fort an' put it to him--one o' the boys there can do it, a stranger, o' course. If he throws in, well an' good; if he don't keep him there.'

  The emphasis on the last three words brought a meaning smile to the faces of his listeners, and Pete was quick to agree: `Yo're right, Joe, as usual; that's the play to make. I'll put California on the job--he's done some prospectin' in his time, an' he ain't known here.' Tarman nodded his approval, and the game proceeded.

  On leaving the Folly, Green went to the store, where he purchased a small hatchet, a miner's pick, a shovel, and a shallow pan for washing dirt. He also replenished his stock of ammunition and tobacco, and laid in a varied assortment of provisions.

  'Goin a-travellin'?' asked the storekeeper.

  `Takin' a lintle holiday--got sick o' poundin' beasts,' explained the customer. `Got any fish-hooks?'

  `Shore I have--if I can find 'em. Yu aimin' to combine business an' pleasure?'

  `Yu called it--that's just my idea. When I get tired o' diggin' up nuggets I'll catch me a trout or two for supper.'

  `Reckon yu will get more fish than gold,' laughed the old man, `though I dunno why there shouldn't be some good pickin's; it was there once.'

  Having arranged for his purchases to be sent to the hotel, the puncher returned there himself, satisfied with the evening's work. He had recognised that some good excuse for his remaining in Hatchett's was essential, and that it must be one that would explain solitary excursions
into the surrounding country. So he had made his bluff and with customary thoroughness intended to carry it through. That Tarman was in some way mixed up with the rustling he now felt convinced, and also that it was Laban who had so neatly circumvented the attempt to recover the stolen Frying Pan herd.

  Broad smiles broke out on the faces of early risers in Hatchett's next morning when they saw a cowboy riding slowly along the street upon a pony whose air was clearly one of chastened disgust at being festooned with the unusual implements which constitute the impedimenta of a prospector. Green returned the smiles and replied in kind to the various jocular greetings. He welcomed these effusions, for they signified that he was being taken seriously. Two miles out of town he had an encounter which pleased him still more when Noreen loped round a bend in the trail. He snanched his hat off as she pulled up and surveyed his baggage with patent amusement.

  `I'm glad you didn't inflict that on Blue, it would have broken his heart,' she said, and then, her face sobering, `Why have you left the Y Z?'

  `Me an' the foreman had an argument,' he replied gravely, but the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes were much in evidence, and she knew that he was anything but downcast. She determined to punish him.

  `Dad told me you nearly killed Blaynes,' she said severely. `I'm afraid you're of a quarrelsome disposition--we seem to have had nothing but trouble since you came.'

  The reproof did not have the effect she expected, for the recipient grinned widely, and asked, `Yu blamin' me for the rustlin' too?'

  `You know I did not mean that,' the girl replied indignantly. `Why do you always put me in the wrong?'

  `Must be my quarrelsome disposition,' he returned, and then, noting the expression on her face, added, `I shore am a trouble-hunter, yu see.'

  His quizzically woebegone air dispersed her resentment and she smiled as she said, `You have certainly made a lot of enemies. Why don't you go away?'