Sudden (1933)

by Oliver Strange

  The Sluice. The name was not an inapt one for this long, narrow stone trough with its spray-splashed, almost vertical, bare walls. Leaning forward, the puncher could see where the water entered, cascading over a fall of twenty feet, snow-white and glistening with points of fire like a stream of jewels in the rays of the sun, to drop into a yeasty smother of foam and spray, and then--as though it had finished with play--to roll on through the rift with the smooth, sinuous ease of a gigantic reptile.

  "She must be some sight when Stormy sheds his winter coat," Sudden mused. He watched the fragments of froth as they eddied and swirled some forty feet below, and nodded understandingly. "Don't 'pear to be travellin' fast now, but she is; fella wouldn't have much chance in there, I reckon. Must be another fall below--that one ain't makin' all the racket."

  Meanwhile, Riley, having found his man, had also dismounted and was creeping up on him. Save for keeping under cover, he had no need for caution, the roar of the river drowned every sound, and the foreman had no thought of company in that wild spot. The Circle B man's eyes were gleaming vengefully, and his brain was busy.

  "Bet he's the on'y one the ol' fossil has yapped to," he muttered. "With him outa the way, Cal could be made to talk. Gawd! What a chance; wish I could swing it alone, but it's too big--I'll have to let King in." He looked round suspiciously as he suddenly realized that he was speaking aloud, and then he laughed. "I'm a plain damn fool," he went on. "Why, fella could shout an' yu wouldn't get a whisper. Here's where we even up for Whitey."

  He had reached the last clump of foliage between himself and his unsuspecting victim, only a few yards separating them. For a moment Riley paused, his lips drawn back in a vulpine snarl, his slitted eyes gauging the distance he had to spring. Sudden, poised almost on the edge of the chasm, was rolling a smoke, his mind mulling over what the prospector had told him. If the Burdettes learned of the mine they would stop at nothing to get possession of the C P. He had warned California not to chatter, but he knew the type. Liquor would loosen his tongue and he would boast; many a miner who had made a lucky strike had lost all, even life itself, because he could not keep his mouth closed.

  He had snapped a match alight and was applying it to the cigarette between his lips when a jarring thrust from behind sent him staggering towards the abyss. For an instant he tottered, trying to regain his balance, and then, realizing that he must fall, pitched headlong. Riley, crouching above, watched the body drop like a stone and plunge into the depths. It had been easy; three long strides, a push, and the deed was done. He waited till the puncher rose to the surface, dragged out his gun and fired--twice. He saw the man in the water fling up his hands, and sink. Dropping to his knees, he waited, scanning the stream closely; there was no sign. Riley stood up; his hands were shaking.

  "Reckon I fixed yu, Mister Green," he said hoarsely. "Gotta go an' break the bad news to King now; he'll be some grieved--mebbe."

  At the moment that he mounted and rode away the man he believed he had murdered slid his head above water and eagerly gulped air into his aching lungs. The initial plunge into the icy stream had driven the breath from his body and he had been forced to come up immediately. Then, though he had not heard the reports, he had seen the spit of the bullets in the water beside his head and gathered that the man above meant to make a job of it. Promptly sinking again, he swam beneath the surface, his own efforts and the powerful current taking him a considerable distance. Sudden was an expert swimmer, and water itself had no terrors for him. With his nostrils just clear he waited for the ominous "plop" of a bullet; it did not come, and he smiled grimly.

  "Lucky for me I ain't red-headed or bald--that jasper would 'a' got me," he told himself. "Wonder who it was? Mebbe California got sorry he talked so much, but I'm bettin' it was a younger an' stronger man gave me that jolt."

  Satisfied that the would-be assassin had departed, he raised his head and looked about. The dark walls between which the stream was swiftly swinging him held out no hope whatever. Rising sheer, they presented for the first ten feet a smooth, polished surface, the work of the springtime floods.

  "I'll need wings to beat this proposition," Sudden reflected, adding sardonically, "an' I'm liable to get 'em, but it'll be too late."

  Conserving his strength for the struggle he knew must come, he let the current carry him, content just to keep afloat. Soon he noticed that the reverberating roar of the river was becoming louder; that must mean only one thing --another fall, and he knew it could not be a little one. Desperately he searched the walls of his watery prison, but no crack or cranny affording hand- or foot-hold presented itself; a cat could not have climbed them. Then, as he swung round a bend, he saw a sight at which even the bravest might well have quailed.

  Little more than a hundred yards ahead, the sides of the gully closed in, forming a narrow, tunnel-like passage through which the stream swept at incredible speed. Along the centre of this outlet Sudden could see a tumbled, boiling ridge of foam, tossing like the wind-worried mane of a huge white horse. He knew the meaning of that; rocks there--jagged teeth which would tear him to bits when the cruel current hurled him upon them. Even if he escaped this fate, the deafening thunder told him that it would only mean death in another form, beaten and pounded in the fury of the larger fall.

  The prospect spurred the puncher to action; he now began to savagely fight the force he had hitherto submitted to, heading for the rock wall, where he hoped to find the current less powerful. It was not long before he realized that his efforts were futile. He was a strong man, his open-air life had endowed him with muscles of steel, but his soggy clothing and the numbing chill of the water werebeginning to tell, and against the terrific thrust of the torrent he was impotent. Fight as he might, he felt himself being forced nearer and nearer to that awful gully of death. Thrashing out with leaden limbs, his hand struck something, and he clutched desperately; it was a submerged needle of rock. With an effort he got his other hand to it and held on, though his arms seemed to be leaving their sockets. Conscious that he must soon let go from sheer exhaustion, he fought his way round to the up-stream side of the rock, and was immediately flattened against it. The pressure was enormous, but the position eased his aching muscles.

  "Guess I know now how the meat in a sandwich feels," he mutttered, and made an heroic attempt to grin. For some moments he clung there, breathless and gasping, while the galloping stream, like a live malignant thing, strove to tear him away. He was now perilously near the danger-spot. Idly he watched the stump of a tree whirl past to vanish in the welter of warring waters, saw it leap into view again, white streaks showing where it had been riven on the rocks, disappear, and emerge once more still further shattered. Sudden knew that it would be spewed out of that deadly maw as splintered fragments. That would be his fate unless . . .

  Lifting himself a little in the water, he searched again. Twenty yards distant, at the foot of the dank wall on his left, there appeared to be a small ledge, thinly covered by the stream; if he could reach that he would, at least, be no longer in danger of being swept over the fall. He decided to take the risk, and in a moment was again at the mercy of the current. This, fortunately, carried him straight to the spot, and a lucky snatch kept him from going past it. The struggle to climb up took his last ounce of strength.

  Slimy and water-swept, the ledge was heaven itself after the incessant battle with the river, and for a long time

  Sudden lay there like a log, conscious only of one fact--the necessity for violent exertion had, for the time, passed. Spent both in body and mind, he was satisfied with the present, and the point that his prospect of escaping was as minute as ever did not trouble him. Lying full length on the ledge, his eyes closed, the greedy stream clawing feebly at his wracked body, he was content to rest. A flick of something across his face aroused him : he sat up, and for a moment fancied that a snake had fallen from the cliff above. Then he saw a dangling rope with a noose at the end. A slight bulge in the rock-face prevented him from seeing t
he rim from which it had been dropped.

  "Somebody's invitin' me to hang myself," he reflected.

  Climbing cautiously to his feet, he adjusted the loop under his armpits and shook the rope. In a few moments he was dragged sprawling over the edge of the chasm. At the other end of the taut rope was his own horse, Nigger, and looking down upon him was Yago, whose anxious countenance split into a broad grin when he saw his foreman stand up and throw off the loop.

  "This yer passion for bathin' is likely to be yore finish one o' these days," he remarked.

  "Yu ol' fool," Sudden smiled. "How in hell did yu find me?"

  "Just luck," Bill said offhandedly. "Ran into Cal, who said he'd seen yu, an' come across Nigger, with the reins hitched round the saddle-horn. Knowed yu wouldn't leave him thataway, so I scouted round some an' found a place where it looked like yu'd took a high dive. Then I come down-stream hopin' to find yore remainders."

  "It musta' been a disappointment for yu," the foreman said gravely.

  "Shucks, yu know what I mean," Yago replied hastily.

  A listening stranger would have deemed one man ungrateful and the other indifferent, but they understood one another, these two. Sudden knew that his friend had purposely followed him in case of danger, and Bill was well aware that the foreman would give his life for him if occasion demanded, but, for untold gold, neither of them would have admitted this.

  When the rescued man's clothes had dried somewhat and he had smoked several much-needed cigarettes, they rode along to the end of the Sluice and viewed the fall. With all his nerve, the foreman could not repress a slight shudder as he looked at the narrow gut, with its twisting, tearing, racing torrent of water, fighting its way through to pitch, a sheer forty feet, into a tossing, tormented smother of spume and spray. The rolling roar of the river made speech impossible and it was not until they were some distance away that yago heard the whole of the story. His expressed intentions regarding the unknown assailant were definite and lurid. The foreman listened with a quizzical expression.

  "There was once a lady who wrote a piece 'bout cookin' a hare," he remarked. "It started off with, `First catch yore hare.' "

  "Aw, go to hell," was Bill's inelegant rejoinder.

  Chapter XV

  HAVING, as he believed, successfully disposed of the rider, Riley turned his attention to the man's mount, patiently awaiting his master's return. Reluctantly he knotted the reins and flung them over the saddle-horn; the animal might return to the C P, but being almost a stranger there, it was more likely to drift around.

  "An' mebbe I'll `find' yu later," the Circle B man muttered. "Just now it wouldn't be noways safe."

  With a flick of his quirt he started the horse off, mounted his own beast, and set out for the ranch on Battle Butte. He found King Burdette in the living-room, and chuckled inwardly when his entry was received with a black look; his news would soon change all that, and he meant to make the most of it.

  "What the blazes do yu want?" came the surly question.

  The visitor seated himself on the side of the table, rolled a smoke, and swung a nonchalant leg. He still bore the mark of King's fist on his face, but he was a different man. Burdette sensed the change and watched him narrowly.

  "I got news," Riley began. "They'll be needin' a new foreman at the C P."

  King straightened up with a jerk. "How come?" he asked. "Has Green gone?"

  "Yu could put it that way," Riley said. "He slipped into the Sluice s'mornin'."

  "Slipped--into--the Sluice?" the other repeated. "What in the nation was he doin' there?"

  "Just lookin'--seemed to be admirin' it," Riley said casually. "Reckon he turned dizzy, or fancied a bath mebbe."

  King's cruel lips curled contemptuously. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Who told yu this fine yarn?"

  "No one didn't tell me--I saw it," the rider retorted.

  King Burdette laughed; he knew the Sluice, and he guessed what had happened, but he wanted to be sure. "Mebbe he can swim," he suggested.

  "Carryin' too much weight," Riley said meaningly. "Slugs don't help a swimmer none whatever."

  "Better 'a' left it to the river," King commented. "If he's found with lead in him . . ."

  "Ever seen them teeth in the gut?" the other asked sneeringly. "Bah! there won't be enough of him to put a cross over."

  King nodded. "That's so. Well, yu done a day's work, Riley, an' I ain't forgettin' it. Whitey"

  "Was to have had five hundred. I want more'n that."

  It was a guess, but a good one, and the other man did not trouble to deny it.

  "Shoot," he said.

  The cowboy was in no hurry. "I've got hep to suthin' big--too big for me to tackle alone, which is why I'm talkin'," he said, after a pause. "But first, I want yore honest-to-Gawd promise that I share equally with yu, Mart an' Sim. What's the word?"

  King did not reply at once; Riley's air of repressed excitement evidenced tidings of importance, and though he could lose nothing by agreeing to the proposal, he was far too astute to do so immediately; after all, the man was only a tool, and must be kept in his place. At the same time, he was curious.

  "That goes with me, Riley, an' I can speak for my brothers," he said at last. "Spill the beans."

  Whereupon the rider told of the conversation he had overhead between California and the C P foreman, speaking in a low, husky voice which positively shook when he attempted to describe the nugget the prospector had so proudly produced.

  "My Gawd, King, yu never see such rock," he exclaimed. "Near as big as my fist, an' more'n half pure gold, I'll lay a fifty."

  "Findin' `float' don't mean yu got the mine it come from," King objected, but it was more for the sake of prompting his informant; his interest was plain enough.

  "Yo're right, but Cal knows--he was just all swelled up," Riley said confidently. "He may have let it out to Green; I warn't there when the pow-wow began."

  "It's big news, shore enough," King decided. "An' yu done right to come to me--I'll play fair. Allus knowed there was a gold-mine up on Stormy--that's one reason why I've been so hot on gettin' the C P." He paused, his eyes glinting with savage satisfaction. "We'll have 'em both now; there ain't nothin' to stop us. First thing to do is get hold o' Cal an' put him where he can't chatter--'cept to me."

  The sun had dropped over the horizon in a glory of red and gold; down in the valley it was already dark, and on the mountain-side the dusk was rapidly deepening. California, busy preparing his evening meal, was oblivious to these natural phenomena. Therefore he did not see those silent shadows stealing from tree to tree until they reached his habitation, and only became aware of their presence when a hoarse voice barked :

  "H'ist 'em, pronto ! "

  The old man dropped the skillet he was lifting as though it had burned him and spun round, both hands raised. A tall, masked man stood in the doorway, his gun levelled. He stepped forward, and others followed, dour-looking fellows, slitted kerchiefs across their faces, and armed."What's the game?" the prospector shrilled.

  "Shut yore trap, come quiet, an' yu won't be hurt none," the man with the gun told him. "If we have to reason with yu..."

  The implied threat was unnecessary--Cal had no thought of resistance. Blindfolded, his hands tied behind, he was hustled out and lifted on to a horse. The leader then searched the cabin, found what he was looking for--the piece of "float"--and joined his companions. At a word the party set out for the valley, taking a line, however, which would enable them to keep clear of the town. At the end of what seemed to him an interminable ride, California was yanked from the saddle, the handkerchief over his eyes removed, and he was thrust into a small log shack.

  "Talk to yu later," he was gruffly told, and then came the creak of a turning key.

  The prisoner's reply took the form of a stream of curses, blistering, vitriolic, the cream of all he had gathered in the many mining-camps and tough towns he had known. It was an impartial, comprehensive cursing, for, starting with his unknown captors, it
went on to include Windy and its inhabitants, and finished with a whole-hearted condemnation of himself and the foreman of the C P.

  "No fool like an old 'un, they say, an' of all the old fools I'm the daddy," he wheezed when his breath and memory were beginning to fail. "I'd oughta be split in two with a hatchet for openin' my face to that slick-eared, double-faced cow-punch, burn his soul. O' course he yaps to Purdie, an' here I am, boxed up on the C P. Got no more sense than a burro, Cal, yu ain't, but from now on yo're dumb, whatever play they make."

  Outside the door a tall man listened and laughed silently.

  "Mouthy old bird," he muttered. "But that's a sound idea 'bout Green--we'll have to let him go on believin' that. Yu'll be good an' hungry in the mornin', friend, an' mebbe not so dumb as yu think; an empty belly is a powerful persuader."

  ***

  It was not until the second evening after his adventure in the Sluice that Sudden visited town again. He had told no one of this further attempt on his life, and had sworn Yago to secrecy. His appearance at "The Plaza" evoked no surprise; several of those present gave him friendly nods; others watched him indifferently as he stepped to the bar and greeted the proprietress. Evidently his supposed demise was not yet generally known. Lu Lavigne welcomed him with a smile, but there was a shadow in her eyes.

  "I'm guessin' yu ain't pleased to see me," he said bluntly.

  "You know that isn't true," she replied. "But why come looking for trouble?"

  The corners of his eyes crinkled up. "An' I came to see yu," he reproved.