Chapter V
The Double K range occupied an expansive tract of open country towards the end of the big basin and about ten miles south of Dugout. The ranch-house faced a long, grassy incline, and was protected from the sun by lofty pines. It was a wide, one-storied building of trimmed timber, with a roofed verandah along the whole front, and chimneys of stone. The bunkhouse, smithy, storage-barns and corrals were about a hundred yards distant. As the riders aproached, they could see a tall figure striding up and down le verandah.
“Like I said, callin’ me everythin’ he can think of,” Frosty grinned, “an’ lemme tell yu, he knows some words. Allasame, if he offers yu a job I hope yu’ll take it; I’d admire to have yu here.”
“I thought yu were tryin’ to scare me away.” Sudden smiled.
His companion shot a sly glance at him. “I’d say yu don’t scare easy. Don’t git any wrong ideas ‘bout the 01’ Man; he’s all wool, an’ we’re proud of him; also, the pay an’ the grub is good.”
“The foreman—is he good, too?”
Frosty frowned a little. “Sam’s mouth opens too easy.”
“He never named him,” Sudden said. “I like to know somethin’ of the man I take orders from.”
“Him an’ me don’t exactly hit it, but that ain’t to say he an’t cover his job,” Frosty said bluntly.
In a few moments they reached the ranch-house and dismounted. Colonel Keith was on the far side of fifty, but his erect, spare frame showed no sign of age. He had a large, high-bridged nose, keen black eyes set beneath bushy eyebrows, thin, carefully shaven lips, and he wore his grey hair somewhat long. A suit of fine white linen gave him the appearance of a prosperous planter rather than a cattleman.
“Breedin’ there, an’ pride,” Sudden decided. “Wouldn’t lift his lid to a king—less he liked him.”
“Well, boss, I got him,” Frosty announced.
“My feeble intellect had already divined as much,” was the unsmiling reply. “You have not, I hope, been hurrying.” Without giving the abashed cowboy time to answer he turned to the visitor. “That’s a fine horse you have; Homer will take care of it.”
Sudden shook his head. “I’d best ‘tend to that myself,” he said. “Nigger is a one-man hoss.”
As they unsaddled and turned the animals loose in the corral, Frosty grimaced ruefully, and remarked, “Didn’t I say he had a razor-tongue?”
“Yu shorely asked for it. He’s got eyes, too, ain’t he?”
Sudden returned to the verandah alone, his companion not being anxious for another rebuff. The rancher pointed to a chair.
“We will sit here, if you please,” he said, “The view is considered a fine one.”
It was indeed. The expanse of grassland, hemmed in by a strip of broken country beyond which forested slopes climbed steeply to the craggy, battlemented hills which formed the rim-rock of the great valley, presented a picture to please the eye of any lover of Nature. Keith gave the puncher little time to admire it.
“Mister Green, I am doubly in your debt,” he began. “For protecting my adopted daughter from insult, and for giving me this opportunity of thanking you.” He finished with an old-fashioned bow.
“Nothin’ to that, seh,” Sudden protested uncomfortably. “I just happened to be there.”
“Very fortunately for Joan,” the rancher said. “Sam is an old servant and an excellent fellow, but he has the pluck of a rabbit.” His eyes flashed. “They should have died,” he added vehemently. “Of course, you are a stranger….”
“I learned ‘em a lesson,” the puncher pointed out.
“So I heard, seh,” Keith replied, and with a wisp of a smile. “I, too, have my magic. You see, my position renders it necessary that I should know all that takes place in the valley; it is not idle curiosity. Neither is it when I ask why you have come to these parts?”
“I’m just a puncher who has pulled his picket-pin, havin’ got tired o’ lookin’ at the same bit o’ the world every mornin’. Allus had the travel itch—never could stay put for long. I’ve no folks an’ no friends.”
The rancher nodded. He knew the type and had not expected to receive any definite information. The average cowboy was a nomad by nature, liable to wander in search of new pastures from sheer restlessness. But though he accepted the explanation, he did so with reservations, being convinced that this nonchalant but extremely competent-looking young man, who wore two guns and had proved his ability to take care of himself, was something more than he had claimed.
‘Would you care to ride for me?” he asked abruptly.
Sudden hesitated; save in moments of stress, when he could emulate lightning itself, he did not make rapid decisions. Keith misunderstood his silence.
“You have heard I’m a hard man to work for?” he suggested.
“No, seh, the word I had was that yore men are proud o’yu, an’ that the pay an’ grub is good,” Sudden smiled. “I’m just wonderin’ why yu offer me a job?”
“You have done me a service,” the other reminded, and when the visitor made a gesture of dissent, “and you appear to be the kind of man I need.”
“I can handle cattle.”
“I want someone who can handle men—miscreants like those you dealt with yesterday,” the rancher said harshly. “I want that nest of thieves and cut-throats, Hell City—of which you must now have heard—wiped out. Above all, I want to see their leader, who has robbed, flouted, and jeered at me, broken, lying in the dust at my feet, begging for his life.”
The low, tense tones, flaming eyes, and clamped, set jaw testified to the passion which possessed him. In a moment it passed and Kenneth Keith was again the cold, courteous gentleman.
“The fellow is a menace to the whole community, Mister Green,” he went on. “A cancerous growth which must be ruthlessly removed. I have written to the Governor, but apparently he can do nothing; we must take the law into our own hands. Well, what do you say?”
Though this was the offer for which he had hoped, Sudden did not wish to seem too eager, and it was only after a pause that he said:
“I’m takin’ a hand, but I gotta play the cyards my own way. To begin with I’ll be just one o’ yore punchers—yu havin’ put me on the pay-roll for helpin’ Miss Keith. That’ll give me time to look around.” He waited, and then, “If I get a chance to down this leader would that be all right with yu?”
The elder man’s face paled. “I would prefer to have him brought in for me to pass judgment on,” he said slowly.
“I savvy,” Sudden replied, and was glad he had asked the question. Somewhere in this proud, hard parent there still glowed a spark of affection for the son of his body.
The appearance of the girl interrupted the conversation, and the cowboy had to submit while she thanked him prettily.
“Green is going to ride for the Double K, Joan,” Keith told her. “I scarcely think any of that devil’s brood will interfere with you again.” His voice grew stern. “If they do, he has my instructions to deal with them as they deserve.”
“I hope the lesson they have received will be sufficient,” she said, but there was fear in her eyes.
Sudden made a mental note, and then—in response to the rancher’s hail—Frosty came up from the corral. His face split in a broad grin when he learned that the Double K had hired a hand.
“Show him where he sleeps, and then”—Keith’s thin smile was in evidence—”you can go with him to Dugout to fetch his things.”
As they went to the corral for their horses, Frosty looked at his new friend and said with a laugh:
“That’s the 01’ Man all over : lashes yu with that tongue o’ his one minute, an’ the next, does somethin’ yu want but dasn’t ask for. I’m thunderin’ glad yo’re joinin’ us, Jim, an’ Sam will be, too.”
“He’s losin’ a boarder.”
“He’s gainin’ a friend,” came the swift retort, “an’ bein’ the colour he is, he don’t have too many.”
His prophec
y proved correct, for when they returned to Dugout with the news, the saloon-keeper’s delight and relief were obvious.
“I’se pow’ful pleased yo’ ain’t leavin’ us, sah,” he beamed. “Shucks, them hombres would say I’d run away,”
Sudden excused. “Ain’t called for their guns, I s’pose?”
It appeared they had. Soon after the cowboys set out forthe Double K, a youth arrived, paid the money, and re-deemed the weapons. He left a message.
“I was to tell de stranger dat he’ll suah see dem guns some mo’,” the negro said.
Frosty chuckled. “I’ll take to totin’ a couple, Jim; that’ll even up.”
They devoured a meal, praised the cook until her grin of gratification threatened to engulf her ears, and headed once more for the Double K. By the time they reached it, riders were coming in from the range.
“Yu’ll bring the strength up to fifteen, includin’ the foreman,” Frosty informed. “They’s a middlin’ good crew, though—well, mebbe it’s my fault.”
“That they’s a good crew?” came the artless question.
“No, yu flathead, an’ don’t yu go to copyin’ the 01’ Man—one like him is all this ranch’ll stand,” Frosty said. “My fault if I can’t like one or two as well as the rest. I expect I don’t make friends easy.”
“I’ve noticed it,” Sudden remarked gravely. “Yu need to know a fella a long, long whiles before he captures yore youthful affection.”
“Oh, go to—chapel,” the young man told him, and gave his mount a swipe on the rump which sent it careering into the corral.
As they moved towards the bunkhouse a chubby, round-face cowboy approached, and was promptly hailed:
“Hi, Lazy, say `Howdy’ to Jim Green, who’s come to help the rest of us do yore job for yu.”
The maligned one grinned and shoved out a paw. “Pleased to meetcha,” he said, “My name’s `Lacey’; these ignorant cow-wrestlers mis-pronounce it ‘cause I do more work than any three of ‘ern.” He looked at Frosty. “Steve’s wantin’ to know where yu bin loafin’ all the day?”
“Tell him to ask the Colonel.”
The Double K bunkhouse was a large one and the built-in bunks arranged along each side left ample room for the long table which served for meals. At the far end a door led to the kitchen. Most of the riders had already taken their seats and were exchanging good-humoured banter when Frosty and his companions entered. Frosty conducted the newcomer to the head of the table, where Lagley was standing in conversation with a small, middle-aged man with ferrety eyes and a sour expression. This was Turvey, supposed to be more or less in the foreman’s confidence.
“Oh, Steve, this is Jim Green,” Frosty announced. “I reckon the 01’ Man will have told yu about him.”
The foreman spun round and glared when he saw the stranger who had humiliated him. Stark hostility shone in his eyes for an instant and as quickly died away. But Sudden noted it.
“I ain’t seen Keith,” Lagley said gruffly. “What was it he should ‘a’ told me?”
“Why, to put Jim on the pay-roll, o’ course.”
“No `of course’ about it till I’ve spoke with the owner,” the foreman snapped. “What yu bin doin’ to-day?”
“Better ask him ‘bout that, too,” Frosty advised. “C’mon, Jim, let’s git started afore these fellas wolf the lot.” And, as they found seats, “Me, I’m a small eater.”
“My Gawd!” the tall, thin man on his left breathed fervently.
“He’s sayin’ grace,” Frosty explained aloud. “Well brought up, Lanky was. Fact is, they brought him up so far he never had a chance to fill out.”
“An’ he still ain’t, sittin’ next yu at meals,” the long one complained. “See here, stranger, lemme tell yu a true tale. Frosty here once went to a barbecue an’ the rancher who was givin’ the party took him to where they was roasting the ox—whole. `There,’ he sez proudly, `how’ll that do yu?’ `It’ll dome fine,’ Frosty replies. `But what are the other folks goin’ to have?’ “
The story produced a burst of laughter in which the hero of it joined. “Lanky, if yu on’y worked as well as yu lie, there’d be nothin’ for the rest of us to do,” he complimented. “Fortunately, it ain’t possible.”
A harsh voice from the top of the table suddenly stilled the hum of conversation.
“What’s this I’m told o’ Black Sam committin’ sooicide?”
The men looked up in surprise and shook their heads; save Frosty, not one of them had heard of the happenings in Dugout the previous afternoon. An oldish, grey-bearded puncher was the first to speak.
“That’s bad news. I don’t cotton much to niggers, but Sam was a good sort, an’ I’m sorry he’s passed out.”
“I didn’t say he had—yet,” Lagley said.
“When a fella has committed sooicide, he’s dead,” the other replied. “Never knowed a case otherwise.”
“It amounts to the same thing, Goudie,” the foreman retorted. “Sam flung four o’ the Imps out’n his saloon yestiddy. How long d’yu figure they’ll let him live?”
“Good for Sam,” one of the younger men shouted.
But the majority of the faces showed only concern. “No, bad for Sam,” Goudie corrected. “Yo’re right, Steve; they’ll kill him—shore.”
“Yore facts is wrong, Steve,” Frosty interjected, and gasped as Sudden’s elbow administered a warning. “It was a stranger what throwed them bums out.” He went on to tell the story, without, however, divulging that the chief actor was present. The recital elicited both amusement and jubila- , tion.
“Beat up four of ‘em with his bare fists an’ made ‘em hock their guns?” laughed one. “I’d ‘a’ give a blue stack to ‘a’ seen it.”
“I’d shore like to meet that stranger—in friendship,” Lazy contributed, blissfully unconscious that he was sitting next to him. “He must be a born fighter.”
“A born fool, yu mean,” Lagley sneered. Suspicion suddenly came to him, and without another word, he got up and went out. Scowling heavily, he strode to the ranch-house, to find the owner sitting on the verandah.
“Well, Lagley, what is troubling you?” Keith asked. “That new hand yu took on. What d’yu know about him?”
“Do I have to tell you?”
“I’m foreman, an’ responsible to yu for the men.”
“You relieve me, I was beginning to think I was responsible to you,” came the caustic response. “My knowledge of him is limited to the fact that he has done what the rest of you cannot—administered a rebuff to some of those gaol-birds from Hell City.”
“An’ sneaks off here hopin’ the Double K will protect him,” the foreman gibed.
“Nothing of the kind, he came at my invitation. Have you anything against him?”
“Don’t like his looks,” was the sullen answer.
“A pity,” the Colonel said. “What are you going to do about it—throw up your job?”
This astounding suggestion, made in acid tones, completed the man’s discomfiture. Inwardly seething with a rage he dared not show, he was quick to recognize his danger; there were others in the outfit who could take his place, and this cynical old tyrant might even … He writhed at the thought of being “given his time” by the saturnine stranger.
“Yu know I warn’t thinkin’ no such thing, boss,” he protested. “I was on’y figurin’ that when Satan learns we’ve hired that fella, he’ll take action, that’s all.”
“Which is another reason for hiring him,” Keith returned.”Do I need to ask that scoundrel’s permission before I engage a hand?”
“I guess not,” Lagley agreed. “It’s yore ranch, but don’t say I didn’t warn yu. Why, this hombre might be one o’ Satan’s gang for all yu know.”
A deep crease furrowed the rancher’s brow. “And so might you—for all I know,” he said curtly. “I’m backing my judgment.”
He turned to go into the house and so missed the malignant glare of resentment which followed him.
The foreman’s abrupt departure from the table spoiled no one’s appetite, and the plump, red-faced cook was kept busy. Sudden paid him a compliment.
“Don’t flatter him, Jim,” Frosty begged. “He’s improvin’, but he’s a long ways behind Black Sam yet.”
“Which yu can’t wonder, seem’ I never had his experience,” the cook said plaintively.
“What experience?” Frosty incautiously asked.
“Sam used to feed hawgs afore he come here,” the man of pots and pans chuckled, and beat a hurried retreat into his own domain amid a storm of merriment and abuse.
The meal over, Frosty led the way outside, declining Lazy’s invitation to play cards.
“Yo’re ail broke an’ two-cent poker ain’t no game for a man,” was how he put it.
“Which was why I asked yu,” the other shot back.
Seated on the long bench in front of the bunkhouse the two cowboys smoked in silence for a while. Frosty commenced the conversation.
“What yu think o’ the outfit?”
“Good bunch to get along with, I’d say.”
“Shore, but—as I told yu—there’s one or two—drawbacks.”
“Bound to be,” Sudden agreed, and his eyes crinkled a little at the corners. “The foreman’s anxiety ‘bout yu to-day warn’t entirely due to affection.”
“No, he don’t like me—which is certainly amazin’,” the young man grinned. “The amount o’ sleep I’ve lost over that yu wouldn’t believe.”
“Yo’re right, I wouldn’t,” Sudden said. “He concealed his joy at the sight o’ me pretty well, too.”
“Yeah, didn’t like the 01’ Man not consultin’ him, I guess.”
“Mebbe, but it’s odd, seem’ he promised me a job.”
Frosty’s look of blank astonishment cried out for an explanation. When it had been given, the Double K man whistled, and remarked:
“Well, if yu ain’t a tight-mouth. So yu got the drop, set him afoot, an’ yo’re surprised he ain’t glad to see yu. What did yu expect—thanks?” His expression sobered. “Jokin’ on one side, Jim, it was a bad break; he ain’t the forgivin’ sort.”
Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) Page 4