“That’s shooting, my gun-slinging friend,” he sneered.
The puncher did not appear impressed. “Fair,” he admitted. “But if that hombre was fit an’ had a forty-five in his fist …”
“Can you equal it?”
“Shore, firin’ at a fixed mark is dead easy.”
“Prove it,” the other snarled.
Sudden shrugged; this was the invitation for which he had been angling. Drawing one of his guns, he raised it slowly, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet struck an inch below the groove and Dolver’s head slipped from the dwarf’s grasp and fell forward. For one second, the bandit could not believe what he saw, and then: “you clumsy fool, you’ve killed him,” he cried, almost beside himself with rage. “I’ve a mind to…”
Apparently the visitor was too chagrined to resent either the epithet or the threat.
“Which I’m allowin’ it was a poor shot,” he said dejectedly. “Allus do forget that this gun throws a mite low. yu certainly can shoot, mister.”
The humility and flattery restored the masked man to his normal state of imperturbability. “My followers call me `Chief,’ ” he pointed out.
“Suits me, but I ain’t one of ‘em yet. Let’s get out’n here an’ talk it over—corpses ain’t the best o’ company.”
Leaving the man whom Sudden, at the risk of his own life, had mercifully released from horrible torment, lying on the floor of his prison, they returned to the upper room.
“What yu want I should do?” the puncher asked. “Rustle some cows for yu?”
Satan looked at him. Was the fellow really as stupid as he seemed to be—a mere creature of brawn without brain? Even so, he might be useful.
“The rustling is a small matter, done to annoy Keith,” he explained. “I want to make him desperate, force him to fight, and then—I’ll kill him.”
The last three words were spoken with incredible ferocity, hissed through shut teeth.
“It is said he’s yore father,” Sudden reminded.
“No, he disowned me, said I wasn’t fit to bear his name, and that he wished never to see my face again. Well, I have acquired another name and concealed my face, but, by Christmas, he shan’t rob me of my inheritance. Now do you understand?”
“Shore,” was the reply. “It’s a good range.”
This fatuous answer produced a further probing regard, but the speaker’s features were wooden. The bandit nodded.
“Since we understand one another, get back to it,” he said. “Lagley will give you my orders. Remember, if you play false, I shall know, and—you have seen how I deal with those who offend me.”
The visitor made an evident effort to regain his assurance. “Threats don’t scare me none whatever,” he boasted. “Keep ‘em for those they may. So long.”
With an air of insolent bravado, he swung from the room, but it was a pleasure to see the sky again. His horse welcomed him with a whinny, and mounting, he rode slowly to the gate. His gloomy expression was misunderstood by the keeper.
“Ain’t feelin’ so fresh, huh?” he commented, but not until the rider was out of hearing. “Thought he’d larn you.” When he was well beyond the range of prying eyes, Sudden straightened up in his saddle. His face was drawn and set with resolve. He had been driven to shoot the man he had come to save, just as he would have put out of its misery a suffering beast, and it hurt.
“If ever I’m in a like case, I hope someone will act the same,” he muttered, and then, “I had to do it.”
But the devil who had made such a deed necessary must pay, and in full.
Chapter XI
Joan Keith reined in her pony, leaned back in the saddle, and drew a long breath of profound satisfaction. She loved this untamed land, with its sandy scrub-dotted wastes, fragrant pine-woods, gloomy gorges, and inhospitable hills. Out of an unclouded vault above, the sun flung its fire relentlessly, but the night would bring a gracious coolness. The aromatic scent of the sage stung her nostrils. Behind stretched an undulating plain, the short brown grass of which fattened the Double K herds, and in front, a welter of low, broken ridges rising step by step to pinnacled grey peaks. It was upon these that her gaze rested longest. Among them—just where, she did not know—lay Hell City, and her eyes grew misty as she thought of the wayward boy who was wrecking his life there. Not his only, but her own, though this was something she fought not to admit, even to herself.
“Yes, it’s a great pity, but when old men are tyrannical …” The voice, familiar, but with a harsh intonation that was strange, startled her, and set her pony rearing. Her capable hands soon brought it under control and she turned to face the intruder, who had stolen up behind her, the sandy soil deadening the footfalls of his mount. Her face flushed and then paled as she saw the red mask beneath the high-crowned Stetson. Dumbly she noted the dandified cowboy rig, the silver spurs, and lavishly decorated saddle on the fine black he bestrode.
“You could always ride, Joan,” he went on, and, reading her thought, “Yes, a good horse, Arab and mustang speed and stamina. I call him `Pluto’—rather appropriate, I fancy.”
Below the pulled-down brim of the big hat she could see the pale eyes appraising her with cold curiosity. The sneeringly polite manner jarred on her, and she remained silent.
“You don’t seem very glad to see me, yet we were good friends once,” he said.
“Did you expect I would be?” she cried, stirred to anger and speech by the reference to earlier and happier days. “You are not the man I knew; you have changed—horribly.”
“And you too have changed—charmingly,” he smiled. “You were a pretty girl; now, you are a beautiful woman. By Christmas, it must be getting on for two years since I saw you. We must meet more often.”
She shook her head. “Impossible, unless you give up this hideous masquerade and abandon the dreadful life you are leading,” she said. “Won’t you do it, Jeff? Your father—”
“Hates me, and would hound down and hang me if he had the power,” he broke in fiercely. “Within the past few weeks he has hired a noted killer from Texas to help him accomplish that very thing. No, like Napoleon, I am a Man of Destiny. I must follow my fate, even—”
“If it leads to the gallows,” she finished.
“Yes, even so, but it will not. The leaden-witted fools round here regard me as the chief of a band of criminals, hiding under a fantastic name, ready to rob for mere gain. Bah ! I care little for gold, but a great deal for the power it can give me. You have said I am changed, Joan. you are right; I have found myself; I have ambition.”
“A poor one—to be an infamous outlaw.”
“That is simply a stepping-stone to greater things. When I am the largest landowner in northern Arizona the past will be forgotten; the world forgives all to the successful.”
“Such dreams are madness. The Government—”
“Has far too much on hand to worry about the West for years. When it does, I shall be established and—respectable. Some of our biggest cattlemen started as rustlers and then stole the land they now occupy. I shall begin with the Double K, which is mine by right.”
“At present it belongs to Kenneth Keith, and he is neither old nor ailing,” she reminded.
The thin lips under the mask parted slightly. ” `In the midst of life …’ ” he quoted. “He may—meet with—an accident.”
There was no mistaking the sinister insinuation and the girl’s face blanched. “Your own father!” she exclaimed, horror-struck.
“My own father,” he repeated mockingly, “who told me I was no son of his, and desires nothing so much as my death.”
“I do not believe it.”
“It is true; I have a means of knowing.”
“You trust your spies?” she asked scornfully.
“I trust no one,” he told her. “My knowledge comes from myself; ignorant folk call it witchcraft, black magic, or the like; actually it is a gift of divination. It enabled me to be sure of your presence here this morning.”
“Impossible ! I did not decide to come this way until after I had set out.”
“Nevertheless, I knew, and so came to meet you. I wanted to see you because, changed as I am in many ways, one thing remains unaltered—my feeling for you. There has never been anyone else.”
“Rumour tells a different tale,” she said coldly.
“And rumour—as usual—lies. I saved a woman from imprisonment, but she is nothing to me. I cared for you, Joan, and if that domineering old autocrat—”
“You shall not speak of him so,”’ she cried heatedly.
“Incredible!” he murmured. “Why, you are not even of his blood.”
“He has been a father to me, and I love him as a daughter,” she said warmly, and then, “Jeff, I think I hate you.”
For a long moment the man gazed at her, noting the tanned, flushed cheeks, the firm, ripe lips, and the curling tendrils of golden hair trembling in the light breeze. Desire glowed for an instant in his stony eyes.
“You think so, but it is not the case,” he replied. “When Keith gave me the air, you had an affection for me.”
“Which, if indeed it ever existed, you have effectually slain,” she said passionately.
“No, it is dormant maybe, but one kiss from me will bring it to life.”
His effrontery infuriated her. “Never,” she stormed. “You, a would-be parricide …”
She turned to go, but he was too quick. Ere she could guess his intention, a touch of the spurs sent his horse close to her own and he had gripped her by the wrist and waist.
“Don’t struggle, Joan,” he panted, his voice thick with passion. “You are mine. One day we will reign together at the Double K, my lovely queen.”
Frantically she strove to free herself but without avail. The red mask was before her eyes, the avid lips beneath it seeking her own. She wrenched her head aside and struck with her loose hand. The blow drew an oath from her assailant.
“Damn you,” he gritted. “I’ll—”
“Let the lady go, right now, if yu wanta live,” a steely voice finished.
With a start of surprise, the masked man released his captive and swung round to face the speaker, a cowboy on a black horse. He was spinning a gun by the trigger-guard and appeared to be deeply interested in the operation.
“Who the hell told you to interfere?” Satan exploded.
The cowboy looked at him. “I don’t need tellin’ to protect a woman from insult,” he said.
“There was no question of that,” the other snapped. “We are old friends, aren’t we, Joan?”
The girl ignored him. “I was very pleased to see you, Green,” she said, in a still shaky voice.
“Better head for the ranch, ma’am; I’ll take care this hombre don’t pester yu no more,” Sudden advised. “Yu didn’t oughta use this part o’ the range—too many varmints about.”
“Yes,” she agreed, and without a glance at the masked man, rode away.
No sooner was she out of hearing than Satan turned furiously upon the interloper, who was still playing with his pistol.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked. “Are you working for me or not?”
“Shore I am,” the puncher returned easily. “I’ve just done yu a service. See here, I’m ridin’ for Keith. How long d’yu s’pose I’d be doin’ that if I stood by when his daughter was needin’ help?”
“She didn’t see you.”
“She did; I was right close before I recognized yu.”
“I don’t allow people I pay to correct me, even if I’m wrong.”
“Then yu can call the deal off—I ain’t riskin’ my neck for a fool,” Sudden said bluntly. “Yu were tryin’ to do somethin’ no decent girl would ever forgive. Miss Keith is a lady, not a dance-hall dame.” He returned the glare in the sated eyes. “If yu an’ me are to tread the same trail there’s one thing yu gotta keep in mind, that I ain’t one o’ the gaol-sweepin’s yu got herded up in Hell City.”
The bandit did not reply at once. He knew that the cowboy was right—he had behaved unwisely, to say the least of it.
The girl’s loveliness had shattered the shield of icy indifference behind which he was wont to hide. This saturnine gunman had saved him from committing an irretrievable blunder, and though he felt no gratitude, he did not wish to lose him. So, when he spoke again, the anger had gone.
“It is true. I acted like a half-wit, but I had not seen Joan for a long time and her beauty swept me off my feet. I am sorry.” He laughed shortly. “Rescuing damsels in distress seems to be a habit of yours. Miss Dalroy—”
“She told yu?”
“There was no need; I saw it all, though I was in Hell City at the time.” He read the other’s expression, and added, “You don’t believe there are men who see things their fellows cannot?”
“I’ve met ‘em; it was allus a case of too much tangle-foot.”
Satan shrugged. “I can’t convince you, of course, but I venture to predict that Joan will beg you not to mention her meeting with me. Adios, my friend; it may be I have misjudged you; we shall yet do things to our mutual advantage.”
He waved a hand, spurred his mount, and was soon lost in the vegetation which clothed the lower slopes of the hills. The cowboy spat in disgust.
“Play-actor, but a damn dangerous one,” he muttered. “Friend, huh? I’d sooner tie up with a rattlesnake. Oughta rubbed him out, but I’m bettin’ the girl still thinks of him as he used to be, which ain’t goin’ to help me any.”
Confirmation of this view came as he approached the ranch that evening and saw Joan herself riding towards him. She turned her horse when they met.
“I want to thank you for—this morning,” she began. “What happened?”
Sudden saw her anxiety, and smiled. “Why, just nothin’a-tall,” he replied. “I told that hombre he’d find the hills more healthy, an’ he drifted.”
Her relief was obvious. “This is the second service you have done me,” she said, “and I am going to ask a third: will you please keep silent about this unfortunate affair? Knowledge of it would only embitter my father still more, and might drive him to some desperate reprisal.”
“Anythin’ yu say, goes, ma’am,” the cowboy said quietly. “If I hadn’t guessed who he was …”
She smiled her gratitude. “I can’t understand,” she confided. “He was always wild, impetuous, but never mean or dishonourable. He seemed older too, and almost—inhuman.”
“Broodin’ over an injustice ages an’ sours a man plenty fast,” he told her, and—not knowing his own story—she was surprised at the venom in his voice. Then he added something he did not in the least believe, “Mebbe he ain’t so bad as folks figure—I’ve knowed such cases.”
The words made her think. Was he himself one of the cases he had “knowed”? She could not decide, but it seemed difficult to credit that this grave young man, whose rare smile transformed his face into that of a boy, could be a notorious killer. Perhaps he had only said it to comfort her. Impulsively she held out her hand.
“Thank you again,” she said, and spurred her pony.
Sudden’s eyes followed her. “Nig, there’s fools yu couldn’t drag into heaven at the end of a rope,” he told his horse.
Chapter XII
Kenneth Keith looked up as the latest addition to his outfit stepped on to the verandah. A week had passed since he learned of the cowboy’s sinister history, and nothing had happened to change his first impression.
“I’d like to be foot-loose for a day or so, seh,” Sudden said. “Where do yore fellas go when they got coin to spend an’ aim to have a good time?”
The rancher’s face darkened at this unexpected request; it was more than a little early for a new hand to be seeking a holiday. But he knew the breed; when the urge for a spree possessed them, they would sacrifice their positions to ratify it.
“Work-shy already?” he asked sarcastically. “Red Rock kill clean you out quickly enough; women, drink, and cards, with a
probable gunfight thrown in; you’ll find them all here.”
“Thank yu, seh,” Sudden replied. “That tale will do for the boys, but the truth is, I’m goin’ to Hell City.”
If the puncher had suddenly developed horns and a tail his employer could not have appeared more astonished.
“Are you tired of life?” he cried. “Why, they’ll shoot you on sight.”
“Yo’re forgettin’ my past,” the puncher pointed out, and when Keith remained silent, “Didn’t yu get the news’ I warned yu about?”
“Yes, but I decided to ignore it, and I’m asking no questions.”
“Well, fella will be glad to see me.”
“That is possible, if he knows who you are.”
“Black Sam claims he’s a wizard—finds out everythin’.”
“That nigger is a superstitious old lunatic, saturated with witchcraft, voodoo, and like nonsense. To risk your life on that …”
“Not any; the outfit is wise, an’ I’m bettin’ one of ‘em is in Satan’s pay.”
“Which one?” the rancher asked sharply.
“Couldn’t say,” Sudden replied, and grinned. “It ain’t Frosty nor Lazy—they’s allus most amazin’ broke.”
Keith was silent for a space, considering this singular proposition, and a little suspicious. He reminded himself, however, that had the cowboy wished to desert he could have done so without warning, and the Red Rock fable was unnecessary unless he intended to return to the ranch.
“Why are you going, Green?”
There was a shade of anxiety in his tone which Sudden knew was not there on his account.
“Just to have a look at the fella an’ his hideout,” he explained. “Sort o’ spyin’ out the land, yu savvy; I ain’t gettin’ no place, hangin’ about here. He’ll take it I’m ready to doublecross yu, an’ that’s what I’m gamblin’ on.” He hesitated for a moment. “Yu don’t happen to have a picture o’—yore On?”
Keith frowned. “No, I—destroyed them,” he said harshly. “Take care of yourself, Green; I will explain to Lagley.”
As the puncher walked away, a low voice called from a window at the end of the building.
Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) Page 9