Sudden (1933)

by Oliver Strange

  Sudden, suspecting that these men had a definite purpose, gave them all his attention. He saw the vaquero's malicious eyes furtively scanning the solitary figure by the bar, and noted that his voice was gradually becoming more distinct. Presently, in reply to a muttered remark by one of his companions, he laughed aloud.

  "Nan Purdie?" he said derisively. "I tell you somet'ing 'bout her. At ze C P ze boys 'ave to lock ze bunk'ouse door nights to keep her out."

  This infamous statement struck the room to an amazed silence, and then the brooding man at the bar came to life. His left hand gripped the traducer's shoulder, swinging him round, while his right fist, with fiendish fury, crashed on the fellow's jaw and sent him staggering and clutching to the floor; he looked up to find Burdette's gun covering him.

  "Yu dirty liar," the young man grated. "Eat yore words, pronto, or yu go to hell right now."

  The evil black eyes looked up into the flaming blue ones and found only death there; one twitch of the finger aching to press the trigger and the world would know Ramon the vaquero no more. He did not like to back down, but life was sweet. The half-breed had vanity, but no pride; there is a difference. He began to mutter.

  "Speak up, yu bastard," Burdette warned. "This is yore last chance."

  "W'at I say was a lie--I make it up," Ramon called out. "I not know anyt'ing against Mees Purdie."

  With a shrug of contempt, Luce holstered his gun and turned back to the bar. Ramon got slowly to his feet, and then, as he saw the jeering expression on many of the spectators' faces, madness seized him. His hand flashed up, a wicked blade lying along the palm. Ere he could despatch it on its deadly errand, however, an iron clasp fell on his wrist, forcing the arm down and round behind his back.

  "Drop it ! " came the curt order. "Or I'll shore bust yore wing."

  Mouthing Mexican curses, the captive twisted like an eel, but he could not break that hold, and when his wrist began to nudge his shoulder-blades he squealed in agony and the weapon tinkled on the boards.

  "Will some gent kindly open the door?" Sudden requested, and when this had been done, he forced the helpless half-breed to it, placed a foot in the small of the fellow's back, and straightened his leg. As though propelled from a gun, the victim shot over the sidewalk and ploughed into the dust of the street on his face. Sudden looked at the saloon-keeper.

  "Sorry to make a ruckus in yore joint, Magee," he said.

  "Ye done the roight thing, son," the Irishman replied. "I hope ye've bruk his lyin' neck."

  The puncher picked up the dropped weapon; it was a short-handled, heavy throwing-knife, a deadly instrument in the hands of an expert. He balanced it for a moment in his fingers, his eyes on Ramon's companions, who were watching him uneasily.

  "I guess that's a bullet-hole by the door there," he said. "Shure it is," smiled the proprietor. "Not the only wan neither."

  Sudden's arm moved, and like a shaft of light itself the blade flashed through the air and sank deeply into the wall about half an inch from the target he had selected. He looked apologetically at his audience.

  "I'm outa practice--ain't throwed a knife for quite a spell," he said. "Allasame, if it had been a fella's throat ..." He went on conversationally. "An old Piute chief taught me the trick--claimed he'd let the life outa ten men thataway. Dessay he was boastin' some--Injuns mostly do--but he certainly knew about knives." He turned to the Mexicans. "Yore friend is mebbe waitin' for yu," he suggested meaningly.

  They slunk out like dogs who feared the whip, casting curious glances at the weapon in the wall, which they knew was there as a warning to themselves. With their disappearance the tension relaxed and interrupted games were resumed. Luce Burdette came over to the puncher.

  "I'm obliged, but I dunno why yu interfered," he said. "If yo're ridin' for Purdie, as I hear, he won't thank yu."

  "I ain't sold him my soul, an' if I had, Purdie would understand--he's a white man," the C P foreman said quietly. "Yu must be tired o' life to turn yore back on a snake like that; don't yu know his sort allus carries a sticker? 'Sides, if he'd pulled his gun he'd 'a' got yu, shore thing."

  "Lot o' grief that would 'a' caused, wouldn't it?" the boy asked bitterly.

  "I dunno," Sudden told him; "but I reckon that with skunks like that around Miss Purdie needs all her friends."

  His chance shot hit the mark; this aspect of the matter brought a quick flush to Burdette's cheeks. "I hadn't looked at it thataway," he admitted, and pointing to an unoccupied table in a far corner of the room, added, "Can I have a word with yu?"

  For some moments after they were seated the boy was silent, his moody eyes staring into vacancy. Then, in a low, strained voice, he began to talk:

  "Just now yu saved my life, an' I expect I didn't seem none too grateful. Well, I wasn't, an' I'm goin' to tell yu why. Pretty near everybody in town figures I killed Kit Purdie; some are sayin' it openly, others think it but dasn't say so till they know how my brothers are goin' to take it. My refusin' to draw on Chris has got around, an' is regarded as a confession o' guilt. I wish I'd pulled an' let him get me."

  "That ain't no way to talk. What do yore brothers think?"

  The boy flushed angrily. "They allow I did it," he blurted out.

  Sudden nodded comprehendingly. "It suits them," he pointed out. "I understand they've been tryin' to get Purdie to r'ar up for some time."

  "I'm done with 'em--when King told me this mornin' to pull my freight from the Circle B he said somethin' he can't ever take back," Luce said passionately. "Ramon musta knowed 'bout that, or he'd never 'a' had the nerve to frame me. Yu shore yu didn't get a blink at the fella who fired the shot?"

  "If I had I'd 'a' put a crimp in his getaway."

  "Yu don't think it was me?"

  "No, an' I told Purdie so."

  Burdette's face cleared a little. "Thank yu," he said gratefully. "That's two friends I got."

  Sudden fancied he could have named the other, but what he said was, "What yu aimin' to do?"

  "Stick around an' clear myself," Luce said. "I'll be at the hotel if yu want me any time. I--I'd like to see yu," he finished with boyish eagerness.

  "I'll be along," the puncher promised. "Mebbe we can help one another."

  "Shore, but get me right," Luce insisted. "Though the Burdettes have shook me I'm not roundin' on 'em nohow, but"--he grinned mirthlessly--"I ain't related to their outfit. yu'll have to watch out for those hombres, an' that half-breed, Ramon, is pure pizen. 'Fraid I've fetched yu right up against Ol' Man Trouble."

  "Him an' me have met afore, an' yu'll notice I'm still here," the puncher smiled.

  When the boy had gone, Sudden drifted over to the bar, and Magee pushed forward a bottle, a look of perplexity on his face.

  "Shure I can't foller your play, sorr," he said. "ye're a C P man, an' ye save the loife of a Burdette; that'll puzzle Purdie, I'm thinkin'."

  Sudden looked at him quizzically. "I start with the C P to-morrow mornin'," he pointed out, "an' Luce finished with the Circle B to-day. Yes, sir, his family has turned him down cold."

  The landlord whistled. "Odd that," he commented. "The Greaser knew av it too, or he'd niver 'a' dared raise a hand to a Burdette." He sipped his drink contemplatively. "So Luce is at outs wid his brothers, eh? Well, he was allus different to the rest av thim, an' I've seen the Old Man look queerly at him, as if wonderin' how he come to be in the nest. There'll be somethin' back o' his leavin' the Circle B, shure enough."

  The puncher nodded, but did not pursue the topic. He liked Magee, and felt that he was straight, but he knew that he must walk warily in Windy for a while.

  Chapter VI

  WHEN the new foreman arrived at the C P ranch on the following morning, he found that the story of his little difficulty with the half-breed had preceded him, two of the outfit having been in town, and heard of, though they had not seen, the incident. Chris Purdie's face was not quite so genial when he greeted him.

  "I didn't know the Burdettes was friends o' yores,"
was the oblique way he approached the subject.

  Sudden's look was sardonic. "Did yu get all the story?" he asked.

  "I heard yu saved young Luce's life, an' that was aplenty," retorted the ranch-owner.

  "Mebbe I did, an' I'm bettin' yu'd 'a' done the same," was the reply, and the foreman went on to give the details.

  When he heard of the vile insult offered to his daughter, Purdie's face flamed with fury.

  "The dirty scum," he began.

  "It was a plain frame-up," Sudden interrupted. "I'd say he was actin' on orders, an' whoever gave 'em knew Luce had left the Circle B."

  "Left the Circle B?" the rancher repeated in surprise. "How come?"

  "After the fracas I had a talk with young Burdette, an' he told me he was through with his brothers; they won't believe that he didn't kill yore son."

  "An' they're dead right, too, though it's the first time I ever agreed with a Burdette," the old man said caustically.

  "Yo're wrong, Purdie," the puncher urged. "I ain't no Methuselah, but I've met a mort o' men, an' I'll gamble that boy is clean strain. Why should he risk his life for yore girl's good name?"

  "Dunno, 'less it was to avert suspicion."

  Sudden shook his head. "He'd have to be a mighty quick thinker, the way it happened. No, sir, I'm so shore he's straight that in yore place I'd offer him a job to ride for the C P."

  The cattleman laughed aloud at this amazing suggestion. "Yu bein' a stranger hereabouts, there's some excuse for yu," he said. "If I did that, folks would think I'd gone plumb loco, an' they'd be right. A Burdette workin' for the C P, huh? He'd be damn useful to them, wouldn't he? Why, it's more'n likely that's what they're playin' for. I ain't fallin' for that foolishness. Now, come along an' meet the men."

  Sudden followed him to the bunkhouse; he was not convinced, but he recognized the futility of further argument. The morning meal was over, and the riders were awaiting orders. There were eight of them present, all young, and they looked a capable crew. Their employer's speech was brief and to the point:

  "This is Jim Green, boys. Yu'll take orders from him in future, all same it was me."

  Some of them nodded, others said "Howdy," and all of them studied the new foreman with narrowed, appraising glances. His eyes too were busy, and he early decided that none of the looks directed towards him was hostile.

  "Where's Bill?" asked the rancher.

  "He went down to the corral," said one. "I'll go fetch him."

  "He's the daddy o' the outfit, an' the on'y one yu may have trouble with," Purdie said, for the foreman's ear only. "Been actin' sorta segundo to Kit, an' he's mebbe got ambitions. I'm leavin' yu to deal with him, yore own way; when I put a fella in charge I don't interfere."

  He went out, nodding to an embarrassed outfit, and a foreman who, nonchalantly rolling a smoke, awaited the coming "trouble." For he felt pretty sure that the absence of the oldest hand was a premeditated gesture, the first move in a plan of protest against his appointment. There was an air of expectancy about the waiting men. From outside came a hail :

  "Hey, Bill, the noo foreman wants to see yu."

  "Is that so?" a rumbling voice replied. "Which I'm shorely sorry to keep His Royal 'Ighness waitin'. What's he like, this foreman fella?"

  They could not hear the answer, but the deep voice was not so reticent. "So we gotta be bossed by a boy, huh?" it said.

  "Well, Kit warn't no greybeard."

  "He was the Old Man's son--future owner o' the ranch, which is some different. How do we know this yer hombre ain't been planted on us by the Circle B? He may've pulled the wool over Purdie's eyes, but he's gotta talk straight to me, yu betcha. Just yu watch yore Uncle Bill."

  He swaggered through the bunkhouse door, and the new foreman's eyes twinkled when they rested on the short, sturdy figure, with its broad shoulders, long arms, and slightly-bowed legs, of this man he might have trouble with. The amusement was only momentary, and his face was gravity itself when he nodded to the newcomer. None of the outfit noticed that in removing his cigarette his fingers had rested for an instant on his lips; their attention was centred on their companion. What had come over him they could not imagine, but at the sight of the new foreman the belligerent frown had vanished, and his craggy, clean-shaven features expressed only goggling amazement.

  "Yu wantin' me?" he had growled on entering, and straightway become dumb, one hand pushing back his big hat and revealing the straggly wisps of hair beneath.

  "Glad to meet you, Mister...?" The foreman paused. "Yago--Bill Yago," the man replied like one in a dream.

  "Shore," the newcomer nodded. "Purdie said yu would put me wise. Now, yu tell the boys what needs doin' today, an' then yu an' me'll take a look at the range."

  "I'm a-watchin' yu, Uncle," whispered a voice.

  Yago whirled round. "Yu, Curly, go get some wire an' mend the fence round The Sump," he ordered. "I had to pull two critters out'n her yestiddy."

  The joker's face dropped in dismay; a coil of barbed wire is awkward to handle on foot; on horseback it becomes a pest; moreover, it was some distance to the quagmire, and if there is anything a cowboy thoroughly detests it is making or mending a fence.

  "Aw, Bill..." the victim began.

  "Beat it," Yago snapped, and proceeded to apportion work to the rest of the outfit.

  Ten minutes later he and the new foreman were riding up the slope at the back of the ranch. Not until they were hidden by the pines did either of them speak, and then Yago turned to his companion.

  "Jim, I'm almighty glad to see yu, but what in thunderation brung yu to these parts?" he asked.

  Sudden's reply was incomplete.

  "As for bein' glad, yu looked more like yu'd been struck by lightnin'," he smiled. "There's me, shiverin' in my shoes, waitin' for a big stiff to come an' crawl my hump, an' in sifts a ornery little runt like yu."

  Yago's face creased up. "I shore declared war, didn't I?" he grinned, and then another aspect of the affair occurred to him. "Say, Jim, yu'll have to let me tell the boys who yu are."

  "Yu breathe a word o' that an' I'll take yu to pieces an' put yu together again all wrong," the foreman threatened.

  "But I gotta explain," the little man protested. "Hell's bells, Jim, they'll laugh the life out'n me."

  "Yu can say I'm an old friend, an' seem' yu'll be my segundo, I reckon they'll let yu off light," Sudden conceded.

  "Can't I just mention how yu stood up the posse that time an' kept my neck out of a noose?" Bill pleaded.

  "Yu--can--not," was the decided answer. "Time yu forgot it yoreself. Yu an' me rode the same range back in Texas, an' so yu let me off that callin' over yu promised. Sabe?"

  "Awright," Yago said resignedly. "Yu ain't told me why yu come here."

  "For the same reason yu did, yu of pirut. The climate down south was gettin' hotter an' hotter, an' my medical man advised a change."

  "Yu ain't on the dodge, Jim, are yu?" Bill asked anxiously. "Yu see, I heard o' yu from time to time."

  Sudden's face grew grim. "I'll bet yu did--an' nothin' good," he said bitterly. "Bill, I'm shorely the baddest an' cleverest man in the south-west; I can rob a bank with one hand an', at the same time, hold up a citizen two hundred miles away with the other. I expect they are still fatherin' felonies on me right now."

  Yago nodded understandingly; he knew how it was. Though his own past had been fairly hectic, he was credited with crimes he had not been guilty of. In the West, if the dog got a bad name he was hanged--if they could catch him. It was Sudden who broke the silence.

  "D'yu figure Luce Burdette shot young Purdie?"

  "Nope," was the instant reply. "Luce ain't like the rest of 'em--don't know how he come to be in Ol' Burdette's litter a-tall. More likely one o' the other boys, or some o' that gang o' cut-throats ridin' for 'em."

  They had reached a point on the mountain-side where the trees thinned and became more stunted. Far below they could see the town, a huddled, unlovely collection of tiny boxes; a b
lot on the beauty of the valley with its varied green of foliage and grass; and stretches of grey sage. Behind them rose the bare, rocky fastnesses of Old Stormy.

  "The C P range reaches to four-five miles out o' town," Yago explained. "Thunder River is our south boundary, an' our east line is Dark Canyon, the other side o' which lies the Diamond S, the marshal's lay-out."

  Sudden nodded. He was studying the salient features of the mighty panorama before him; Battle Butte, bold and forbidding, at the far end of the valley, a fitting home for the Burdettes, unless their reputation belied them; the craggy, broken, jumbled country to north and south, with the black forests, stony ridges, and deep ravines. His first impression had been correct--it was a fierce and spacious land.

  "Who's doin' the rustlin'?" he asked abruptly.

  "How'd yu know 'bout that?" Bill said. "Purdie tell yu?"

  "It was just a guess," the foreman admitted. He waved at the surrounding scenery. "The durned place was made for it."

  "Yu allus was a good guesser, Jim," Yago told him. "Fact is, we are losin' some--few head at a time."

  "It don't need no artist with a runnin' iron to turn a C P into a Circle B," Sudden said reflectively. "An' it would be a good way o' rilin' up Purdie."

  "Which it didn't do, Purdie havin' the same idea."

  "So they try somethin' stronger, an' shoot his son, huh?"

  "Jim, yo're whistlin'," Yago ejaculated. "They've allus wanted this range--it's worth five times their own, an' besides"--he hesitated--"it's generally reckoned that somewheres in these rocks behind us is the source o' the goldfound in the river. Yes, sir, the Burdettes are out to drive the Purdies off an' glom on to their property; it ain't just a matter o' revenge."

  Sudden was staring at Battle Butte, remembering the limp, pitiful form he had packed into town like a piece of merchandise. His face was hard, merciless, no trace of youth remaining. Yago knew that expression; he had seen it when the wearer was years younger--no more than a boy.