Tarman laughed harshly. “Yu mean he may have trouble with me, don’t yu?’ he said. “Blaynes will get what’s comin’ to him.’
“What about the Frying Pan?’ asked the foreman.
“Owner seems a bin obstinate at present,’ replied the big man. “We’ll have to lower the value of his property some yet, but there’s plenty o’ time for that; we’ll put this other job over first. Yu prime West an’ don’t tell him more than enough—he may have got friendly with Green.
He added a few more general directions, and then he and the gambler slid silently out, regained their horses, and took the back trail to Hatchett’s Folly.
When Jeffs had hazarded the opinion that the outlaw was not far from the Crossed Dumb-bell ranch-house, his guess was a good one, for Green and Larry were within a couple of miles of him when he spoke. Since their return from Big Rock they had haunted the locality in the hope of finding out what was being done with the stolen cattle. At last their patience was rewarded, for four of the rustlers, one of whom was Gorilla, rounded up a small herd one morning and headed for the valley where Green himself had done some rebranding.
Surmising their destination, Green and the Y Z puncher made a leisurely detour which took them to the spot by a longer route. When they arrived, the work of changing brands was almost completed. Securely hidden among the brush which clothed the sides of the valley, they waited for the next move. This was not long in coming, for as soon as the last bellowing steer had rushed from the little corral in which the branding was done, the herd was collected again and driven towards the end of the valley. Keeping well under cover the watchers followed.
Passing through a break in the wall of the valley, the herd climbed a long slope to a big, tree-covered plateau. Here the trailers, having had further to go, lost sight of it, but evidence of its passage was plain enough, and indeed, the trail was a broad, well-trodden one, and had already been used on many occasions. After winding in and out among the trees for some miles, it suddenly took a sharp dip, and save for some scattered clumps of brush the foliage ended.
“Jee-rusalem!’ ejaculated Green, reigning in, a proceeding Larry promptly followed. “What a hide-out.’
The dip, which after the start, was a long and gradual one, ended at a narrow entrance to another valley, larger than any they had yet seen, for it appeared to extend for several miles, and to be, in places, nearly a mile in width. The floor was covered with rich grass and groups of willow and cottonwood indicated the presence of water. Unlike the other valley, this one had no sloping sides, being, so far as they could determine, enclosed by perpendicular walls of rock. At the foot of the slope, they now saw the rustlers and their charge pass through the great stones which formed a natural gateway, while spread about the floor of the valley were many other herds. The two friends looked at each other, the same thought in both minds. It was Larry who voiced it: “The blame country’s just made for rustlin’,’ he said. “What are they keepin’ ‘em for—there must be over a thousand head there?’
“That’s the gang’s part o’ the plunder, I reckon,’ Green replied. “When Tarman has got hold o’ the Y Z an’ Frying Pan range he’ll buy back these herds, or his men’s share of ‘em! It’s the ranches he wants, an’ he’s only stealin’ the cattle to get the land cheap an’ pay his hands. He’s playin’ a big game, is Mr. Tarman, an’ it’s a safe bet he’s double-crossin’ his own friends.’
“What we goin’ to do now?’ asked Larry.
Put ‘em up; I got yu covered,’ came a hoarse command from the surrounding bushes.
A touch of the spurred heel sent Larry’s horse into the air and at the same instant came a shot which scorched Green’s neck. Like lightning, the puncher sent three bullets into the bush from which the smoke was spiralling, and a grunt, followed by the crash of a falling body showed they had not been fired in vain. For some moments the two men waited tensely, guns ready, for any further demonstration, but nothing happened. Dismounting, they forced their way into the bush. Sprawled before them, a neat hole between his sightless eyes and a distorted sneer on his misshappen lips, was Gorilla.
“We’re gettin’ careless, Larry,’ Green said. “We oughtta noticed that there was only three with the herd when they struck the valley an’ then we’d have known that one of ‘em was watchin’ the trail. We gotta get rid o’ this’—he pointed to the body—‘it tells too much.’
A deep crevice between two rocks, winh more stones on top to protect it from wild creatures, formed the dwarf’s last resning-place. His horse they found tied to a tree not far away and turned it loose. A glance at the valley showed a thin wisp of smoke; apparently the rustlers had not heard the firing and were about to feed before making the return trip.
“Well, I owed that jigger somethin’ but I didn’t know I was payin’ a debt,’ Green mused. “Odd how things work out. I never did nothin’ to him an’ yet he hated me at sight. We’d better be movin’.’
“Where for?’ asked Larry.
“Frying Pan. We gotta put Leeming wise to this place in case we both get rubbed out.’
“Yu allus do see the bright side, don’t yu? Awright, awright, we’ll go to Job; he’ll give us somethin’ better to eat than pig’s belly, anyway.’
Green grinned. “Yu certainly do make a Gawd o’ yore innards, don’t yu?’ he said. “We’ll have a look at my claim on our way.’
“Yore what?’ yelled the boy.
“I ain’t deaf, an’ I ain’t a mile away,’ exposnulated the other “Didn’t yu know I gon a gold-mine? If yo’re a good boy…’
But Larry consigned both him and the gold-mine to a place good boys know nothing about, and raced off. Green followed more leisurely, a demure glint in his eyes. Some hours later they halted for a meal of the despised bacon and then pushed on, reaching the spot where Green had cached his mining outfit late at night, too tired to do more than roll up in their blankets and sleep. When Larry awakened in the morning it was to see his friend squatting by a fire, tending a pan from which an odourmuch more delightful than that of bacon was coming. He sprang up and took a peep.
“Trout, by the Jumping Jiminy,’ he exclaimed. Where’d yu get ‘em, Don?’
‘Catched ‘em lookin’ for worms in the long grass, yu chump,’ laughed the other. “Don’t yu know fish allus come ashore to feed in the early mornin’?’
“An’ the wise worms take to the water ‘bout the same time on that account,’ added another voice, and they looked up to find West grinning at them. “Lo, Green,’ he went on. “I was ridin’ right by when I got a whiff o’ them trout. Might there be enough for three?”
“Shore, but four would be too many,’ replied the puncher, meaningly.
“I’m as lonely as the devil at the prayer-meetin’, an’ durned glad to see yu again,’ replied California. “What’s happened? We been expectin’ yu back at the ranch.’
He got down as he spoke, tied his horse, and took a seat at the fire. The other two watched him closely. His pleasure at the meeting seemed genuine, and it was quite possible that he did not know of the treacherous trap which had been sprung upon the Y Z man.
“Yu ain’t heard?’ Green asked, as he passed over a generous portion of the food.
“There’s bin tales told but I don’t reckon I’ve heard the straight of it,’ the visitor returned. “Jeffs claims that he never knowed yu was missin’ till they were halfway home; then we heard one o’ the Y Z boys had bumped yu off. Next comes the news that yu ain’t cashed but they’ve got yu, an’ then we hears that yu got away an’ the marshal’s tore hisself near baldheaded.’
“It was Gorilla who knocked me cold, West,’ Green explained.
“The hell it was!’ said California. “Well, he may have bin actin’ on orders, or he may not—he’s a bitter, mischievous devil—but yu gotta remember that yu thrashed the Spider, an’ he ain’t noted for a forgivin’ nature. I suspicioned somethin’ was up an’ I warned yu to be on the lookout.’
“I ain’
t forgettin’ that,’ Green replied. “Jeffs send yu to look for me?’
“Shucks! I happened on yore camp just like I said. I warn’t lookin’ for yu an’ I warn’t lookin’ for no ten thousand dollars neither; that sort o’ money never appealed to me.’ He rolled a cigarette, and then remarked casually, “Funny about Old Simon.’
“What was that?’ asked both his listeners.
“Hatchett’s is tickled to death over it,’ laughed the rustler. “He’s bin carryin’ on like a scalded pup ‘cause yu give him a name that warn’t yore own, an’ now it comes out that his name ain’t Petter, nor even Simon.’ He drew at his cigarette, exhaled the smoke slowly, and continued, “Changin’ names is common enough in these parts an’ ain’t no crime, but the feller as does it oughtn’t to complain if others do it too.’
“Seems fair,’ agreed Green. “What have we gotta call Old Simon now?’
“Well, it ‘pears his right name is Les Peterson—Les bein’ the short for Leslie,’ came the careless reply, but the speaker’s eyes were watching the other closely. He saw nothing more than polite, amused interest.
“The old catawampus—he shore oughtta be ashamed of himself,’ the puncher observed. “Wonder how many sheriffs is lookin’ for him?’
West was nonplussed, though he guessed the other man was bluffing him. He had given the information as instructed, and although he did not know its significance to Green, he had expected it to produce an effect of some sort. Defnly he changed the subject.
“Am I to tell Jeffs yu ain’t comin’ back?’
“Nope, tell him I am—later,’ said Green, and he smiled grimly.
West was clearly uneasy. He liked the puncher, and would have warned him had he known what to warn him against, but he was a mere unit in the gang, a tool in the hands of the rogues who did the scheming. So that all he said was, “Well, don’t forget yu gotta friend there when yu do.’
“I ain’t likely to—I got none too many,’ smiled the outlaw.
When the visitor had mounted and gone, Green sat staring in silence at the fire, pondering on the astounding news which had come to him so strangely. Fate had presented him with a pretty problem. Here was a man for whom he had been searching for years with one object only, to fight and kill or be killed himself. Always he had held that the cruel wrong done to his benefactor could only be wiped out in blood. And now to learn that the hunted man is the father of the girl of his dreams, or at least, all the father she has ever known. “It would be the same; I just couldn’t do it, old feller,’ he muttered, unaware that he was speaking aloud.
Up to this point Larry had respected his friend’s silence, but the spoken remark was too much.
“Say, when yu done chatterin’ to yoreself yu might tell a feller what it’s all about an’ see if he can help yu,’ he suggested.
Green roused himself. “‘Out o’ the mouths o’ babes’ idea, eh?’ he quoted, smiling.
“Awright, grandpa,’ grinned Larry. “Fly at it.’
The amusement soon faded from the young man’s face as he listened to the story, and consternation took its place.
“Ain’t it just hell,’ he said, when the tale was done. “Yu can’t hurt Old Simon; he ain’t a bad sort, an’ it would break Miss Norry all up.’
“I know that, yu chump,’ was the reply. “But I gotta see him.’
“We gotta see him, yu mean,’ corrected Larry. “Wonder if West knew yu’d be interested to hear Old Simon’s real name?’, “Couldn’t ‘a’ been—I never mentioned Peterson to anyone round here. What’s bitin’ yu, anyway?’
“Dunno, but it shore seems odd his happenin’ along like that. It looks…’
“As if we’re careless an’ damn lucky,’ interjected Green. “It might just as well have been Blaynes, or another o’ that rustlin’ lot, an’ we’d ‘a’ been cold meat. C’mon, we’ll shove for the Y Z an’ watch our chance.’
Larry gave in, but he was not satisfied. To visit the Y Z just now appeared to be sheer madness, but when he pointed this out the only answer he got was that this very reason made it possible.
“They won’t be lookin’ for us,’ Green argued.
“Wish I was shore o’ that,’ grumbled the other.
However, he offered no further opposition for he saw that it would be useless; his companion was determined to prove the trunh of the story he had heard without delay, and to settle accounts, though not in the way he had intended, with the man he had sought so long. For the boy knew that, so far as Sudden was concerned, Old Simon was safe, though he had been guilty of an offence for which death was the inevitable penalty; the abduction of a child could hardly be less heinous than the stealing of a horse or steer. He fell to studying the man riding silently beside him, grim and saturnine, and some conception of the power of human passions came to him. Here was a man who could be ruthless with his fellows, who had killed and would kill again if necessity arose, instantly abandoning a just vengeance cherished and pursued for years because it would hurt a girl.
“It’s odd,’ he said aloud, unthinkingly.
“What is?’ asked Green.
Larry did not want to say; he hesitated and looked round for an excuse. They were crossing a wooded ridge, and between the trees over towards the place they had come from a thin pencil of smoke stabbed the sky. Even as he looked it was cut off, and then shot up again. He pointed towards it.
“Somebody signallin’ back there.’
Green looked at him doubtfully; he did not believe that was what he had referred to, for Larry’s back had been to the smoke when he spoke. While they watched the signal ceased and reappeared three more times, then faded out.
“Do yu reckon it might be West?’ asked Larry.
“No tellin’ an’ it’s too far away to investigate,’ came the answer. “Yu seem sot on the idea that his meetin’ up with us wasn’t an accident.’
“I was studyin’ him mighty careful. This may be all a dodge to get yu to the Y Z.’
“I’m agoin’ to risk it anyway, but there’s no call—’
“We done settled that a’ready.’
They resumed their way, leisurely, for they had no desire to reach the ranch before dark. Slow, as they were, however, it was barely dusk when, hidden in the thick brush bordering the trail, they saw the ranch buildings a quarter of a mile distant. Larry tied his pony.
“Yu stay here,’ he said. “I’ll sneak up a-foot an’ have a look-see.’
Green nodded, and rolling himself a cigarette, sat down to wait. Presently his quick ear caught the sound of hoof-beats and peering out he saw Noreen cantering down the trail. Evidently she had been for one of her afternoon rides and was returning home. He noted, with an ironical spasm of satisfaction, that Tarman was not with her and that she was riding Blue. After a moment of indecision, he stepped into view, removing his hat as he did so. The girl would have ridden past, but the horse, with a little whicker of pleasure, came straight to him. The cowpuncher smiled bitterly as he fondled the velvety muzzle.
“A feller was sayin’ to me the other day that some hosses are pretty near human but I reckon he understand the facts,’ he said.
The girl bit her lip and her face flushed, but she made no further attempt to resume her way.
“What are you doing here?’ she asked angrily, and then, noting that he hesitated, she added, “Don’t trouble to think up any lie; I know that you are waiting for my father, whom you believe to be one of the men you told me you were looking for, and you want to kill him for some fancied grievance. Oh, if only I had known.’
The man she lashed listened apparently unmoved, though her scorn and contempt were hard to bear.
“I reckon yu got me wrong,’ he said patiently, while wondering how she knew. “I came intending to see yore—father, but I ain’t goin’ to hurt him.’ He saw the question in her eyes. “He’s got to apologise,’ he finished.
“To you?’ she asked stormily.
Green shook his head. “No,’ he said solemnl
y. “To a dead man.’
“What do you mean?’ the girl queried, impressed in spite of herself by his demeanour. “Is this one of your so-called jokes?’ For an instant the steel-blue eyes flashed fire and muscles of his strong mouth corded in the effort to maintain his self-control. The girl shivered; she had had a glimpse of a strong man suddenly stirred to anger, and it frightened her. But in a moment the storm had passed and the man’s face was set, passionless, immobile again.
“Won’t you tell me?’ she asked.
“Yore father must do the explainin’,’ he replied. “I’m givin’ yu my word that he’s safe, but I’ve gotta see him, an’ I’m goin’ to see him. I’m comin’ in peace an’ I’ll go in peace, but if there’s any trap laid, well, I guess graves’ll be wanted to-morrow. Tell yore father that.’
His voice was harsh, rasping, implacable, and Noreen realised that he was not to be turned from his purpose, and that even did he walk straight into an ambush he would come to the ranch. She nodded dumbly, and the cowpuncher, having pushed the head of the unwilling roan back towards the trail, vanished into the bushes.
When the girl had gone, Green sat down, took out his guns and spun the cylinders to make sure the weapons were in perfect order. He had done his best to ensure that his meeting with Simon should be a peaceable one, but he was not going unprepared for the alternative. He had some black moments when he fell to considering what the girl must be thinking of him, and whether’it would oe better to have told her the whole story. With a shrug of his shoulders he dismissed the idea—she would not have believed him. Presently a twig crackled and Larry appeared.
“Yu make near as much noise as a herd stampeding,’ was the greeting he received. “Got any news?’
“All is quiet around the old homestead—too quiet for my likin’,’ replied the youth, ignoring the insult to his trailing ability. “Didn’t see hide nor hair of anyone ‘cept the Pretty Lady. She come bustin’ in on Vesuvius lookin’ some flustered, pushed him in the corral an’ hurried into the house. What yu been sayin’ to her?’
Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) Page 24