Sudden: The Range Robbers

by Oliver Strange

  “I’m doin’ my duty to the man that pays me; take that how yu like,’ came the answer.

  ‘Ain’t got religion, have yu, Snap?’ sneered Post Adams. “Shore, an’ here are my prayer-books. Yu want to be converted?’

  His fingers swept the walnut handles protruding from the low-hung holsters, his body crouched as though about to spring, and his face was a mask of ferocity as he glared at the last speaker. It was Pete who averted the catastrophe. He had seen many shootings, and he knew that one type of killer always works himself into a fury before getting his man, with the object, perhaps, of justifying the deed to himself.

  “We don’t want no gun-play here,’ he said, “an’ I’ll drill the first man that pulls. Yu shut yore face, Post. It’s a free country, like I said afore, an’ if Snap don’t want to sit in the game no longer, he’s got a right to throw his hand in. Anythin’ more to say, Lunt? ‘Cause we got business to talk over what won’t interest yu now.’

  “On’y this,’ Snap said. “If there’s a feller here who wants to argue with me at any time ‘bout what I choose to do, he knows where to find me.’

  His narrowed eyes watched Adams as he spoke, and there was no doubt as to whom the invitation was meant for, but the Double X puncher made no reply; he had courage, but the little gunman was a chilly proposition. Snap waited for a few moments and then, with a sneering laugh, backed slowly to the door, slid through and closed it behind him. Not until they heard the splashing of his horse fording the creek did anyone speak, and then Dexter said :

  “We lose a useful man. Is it safe to trust him?’

  “I’m sayin’ it ain’t—he’ll snitch as shore as hell,’ Adams put in. “Yu oughtta let us get him, Pete.’

  “Think so, do yu?’ sneered the gambler. “If I’d been fool enough to do that we’d have lost three or four useful men. Snap’s quicker than any of us, an’ he came loaded for trouble. O’ course, if yu reckon he ain’t to be relied on, there’s time aplenty to make it safe. He’s headed for the Y Z, an’ I don’t suppose he’ll hurry. The side trail’d put yu ahead o’ him an’ he’ll be in plain sight where the trail skirts The Gut. Me, I ain’t worryin’. I dunno why he’s throwed us down, but I think he’s square.’

  Thus he cunningly dissociated himself from the murder of the renegade, while giving it his sanction and even egging the others on to the deed. As he had expected, Post Adams got up at once; the gunman’s challenge, which he had not dared to take up, rankled deeply.

  “Better be shore than sorry, I guess,’ he said. “Who’s a-comin’?’

  “I’m with yu, Post. Never did like that little runt anyway,‘said another of the Double X men, a heavy, stolid fellow of Teutonic extraction, who answered to the name of “Dutch.’

  “Any more?’ asked Post, looking round.

  “Ain’t two o’ you enough to bushwhack one man?’ gibed Rattler. “What yu skeered of?’

  “Not o’ yu, anyway,’ snapped Adams, as he stamped out of the room, followed by Dutch.

  The flat report of a rifle-shot, followed in a moment by a second and then a third, made Green pull in his horse, and then force the animal down the slope of the ridge along which he had been riding; a man on the skyline makes too good a target. Again the three shots rang out, the second instantly followed by the third.

  “Two to one,’ decided the puncher. “Mr. First Man fires, an’ when Mr. Single replies, Mr. Second pumps one into his smoke. I reckon it may be worth lookin’ into.’

  Dismounting and tying his horse, he took his rifle from the saddle and stole cautiously down a steepish declivity in the direction he believed the man he called Mr. Single to be. Soon he came upon a horse tied in a ounch of cottonwoods, and bearing the Y Z brand. A little further on, stretched full length behind a small boulder and cuddling the stock of his Winchester repeater, was a man he instantly recognised as Snap Lunt. He had no hat, and was cursing painstakingly.

  “Lo, Snap. What’s the trouble?’ Green asked.

  Like a flash the head of the prostrate man came round, and his left hand went to his hip, only to fall away again when he saw who the newcomer was. He grinned.

  “Two jaspers over there cut down on me as I came along the trail,’ he explained. “One of ‘em lifted my hat, an’ if I’d bin four inches taller’n I am, I’d be choosin’ my harp right now.’

  “Know ‘em?’ asked Green.

  “I ain’t dead shore, but I got notions,’ replied the gunman. “There’s another chunk o’ rock over there, an’ if yo’re goin’ to stay yu’d better freeze to it, though there ain’t no call for yu to take a hand.’

  “I’m aimin’ to,’ Green returned, sliding down behind the cover indicated. “Two to one ain’t fair, an’ I always did hate a bushwhacker anyways.’

  “Good for yu,’ assented Snap. “We’ll give them coyotes a little surprise. They’re shootin’ at my smoke; when the second feller fires, give him hell.’

  They were lying on the slope of a saucer-like depression, and about twenty yards lower down lay the trail to the ranch. Beyond this was a level stretch of open grass from four to five

  hundred yards in width. On the far side the ground rose again, and was covered with rock debris and brush. It was an ideal spot for an ambush-party, for if they missed their aim they could not be approached without deadly peril, and they could withdraw at any time unobserved.

  Presently a puff of smoke bellied out from a clump of brush opposite Green, and Snap fired. Instantly another shot came from ten yards to the right, and a bullet splintered the rock in front of the gunman. Green sent two shots in quick succession to the address of the second marksman, and through the clear air came a stifled curse.

  “Did he get yu?’ asked a high pitched voice.

  “Burned my ear, blast him!’ came the reply. “How’d he get over there? Must be a blamed grasshopper.’

  “That sounds like Dutch, an’ the other feller is Post Adams. I’d know that squeak of his anywheres,’ commented Snap. “Watch out—I’m agoin’ to loose off.’

  Two shots came in rapid response, and Green promptly drove a bullet into the smoke of the left-hand sniper, drawing forth further curses, and an anxious query from the other man. “Yu ain’t let him get yu again, have yu?’

  “Him?’ snorted the wounded man. “Him? There’s two of him —them shots come from twenty yards apart. Come over an’ tie up my arm, an’ don’t talk like a damned idjut.’

  “Pears like I’m makin’ Mr. Dutch uncomfortable,’ Green grinned. “He’s a complainin’ feller, ain’t he?’

  “He’ll be quiet enough if I get a fair squint at him,’ was the grim reply. ‘Betcha they fade.’

  Fifteen minutes passed, and nothing happened. Then Snap fired, out no shot came in return. They waited awhile, lying motionless in their places, and then Snap shot again.

  “They’ve flitted,’ he said, and stood up, his rifle ready, and his eyes watching for a movement across the valley. But he saw nothing and, satisfied that the enemy had retreated, he walked coolly down to the trail below and retrieved his hat, in the crown of which were a couple of bullet-holes.

  “Plenty ventilation in that lid now,’ he remarked, as he donned the damaged article. “But that’s all to the good for a hotheaded guy like me.’ He achieved the nearest thing he could to a smile and turned to his companion. “I’m thankin’ yu,’ he said quietly.

  “Shucks! No need for that, Snap,’ returned Green. “What have them fellers got against yu?’

  The gunman shook his head. “I ain’t sayin’ a word but this : yu can count on me to the limit,’ he said, and held out his hand. Green realised that he had made a useful friend.

  “Thank yu,’ he said simply.

  They mounted and rode back to the ranch in silence. From time to time Green looked at the little man beside him. What a lot he could clear up if he would only speak. But the puncher knew that he would not speak—even after the cowardly attempt on his life—and respected him for his loyalty to his
late confederates. For, of course, Green surmised that Snap had been one of the gang operating against the ranch, and that he had, for some reason, quarrelled with the others and quitted.

  Supper was in progress when they reached the bunkhouse, and Green, entering behind his companion, watched the foreman’s face, and saw first the slight start of surprise, and then the contemptuous smile. Snap evidently also observed them.

  “Things is shore livenin’ up in this neck o’ the woods,’ he remarked casually to the room in general as he took his seat. “A pair o’ them Double X fellers tried to bushwhack me in The Gut this afternoon.’

  “Yu don’t say! Who was they?’ asked Simple.

  “Post Adams an’ Dutch,’ replied Lunt.

  “How’d yu know? Did yu see ‘em?’ queried Rattler.

  “Heard ‘em,’ said Lunt laconically. “Ventilated Dutch some, I reckon. One of ‘em spoilt my lid, damn him!’

  “Good for yu,’ commented Dirty. “What they pickin’ on yu for, Snap?’

  The gunman looked the foreman full in the face. “Orders, I reckon,’ he said coolly. “They ain’t neither of ‘em got guts enough to put up a play like that on their own.’

  “The Double X is gettin’ too brash,’ growled Dirty. “A lesson is about due.’

  “None o’ that talk here, Dirty,’ cut in the foreman. “We got enough on our hands without a range war. Snap can fight his own battles.’

  “Shore, an’ he can have my help any time he wants it against ambushin’ coyotes,’ retorted the belligerent one.

  The meal over, Green drifted out to the corral, climbed the rail and sat there smoking. There was no moon, but the sky was like a dome of velvet strewn with diamonds. A light wind was blowing from the mountains, bringing a tang of the pine forests. From the bunkhouse came the murmur of voices, soft and blurred, broken by an occasional laugh. Behind him the horses moved slowly as they cropped the grass. It all seemed peaceful, and yet, in the midst of it, robbery and murder were being planned and carried out. He looked towards the lighted windows of the ranch, and found himself wondering what Noreen was doing. He did not see a shadow slide along the corral fence.

  “Stick ‘em up,’ growled a voice, and as he instinctively complied he looked into the barrel of a six-shooter, behind which was the laughing face of Larry. “Say, yo-re easy, ain’t yu?’ added that satisfied young man.

  “Shore,’ replied Green, slipping his left heel from the corral bar over which it was hooked. Like a striking snake, his toe shot out and kicked the loosely-held weapon into the air. Then, with a flying leap, Green landed full on the other and they went to the ground together, Larry underneath.

  “Shore,’ Green repeated. “I’m easy—roused,’ and proceeded to enthusiastically push his friend’s face into the soft dust. “Let up, yu—yu catamount,’ spluttered a choking voice. “I’ve said “Uncle”—said it four times. Yu aimin’ to bust my back, as well as my fingers?’

  Thus adjured, Green allowed him to rise, and having brushed the dust from his own person, performed the same kindly office for his friend with an energy which elicited another protest.

  “Aw right, don’t yu trouble, feller,’ Larry said. “I ain’t no carpet. What yu usin’—a fence-rail?’

  “Only my hand,’ came the reply.

  “Only yore hand,’ snorted Larry. “Try the rail next time—I’d ruther.’ He found his gun, rolled and lighted a cigarette, and took up a position on the corral fence. “For a busted nickel I wouldn’t tell yu any news,’ he announced.

  Green climbed up beside him. “Spill it,’ he urged, “or Uncle will have to argue with yu some more.’

  Larry moved a little further away. “I’ve solved the mystery o’ the rustlin’,’ he began solemnly. “The leaves is doin’ it—every time the wind blows.’ He dodged a back-handed blow which would have sent him into the corral, and added, “An’ yu’ve been ridin’ with the Pretty Lady. I’m agoin’ to call yu “Don” in future—short for Don Juan, see?’

  “Quit yore foolin’; it’s blame near time yu grew up,’ retorted the other. “I don’t care a cuss what yu call me, but I’d like to hear how yu knew about’—he hesitated—”the Pretty Lady.’

  “Rattler told me, an’ all the others. He’s shore doin’ his damnedest to make yu popular.’

  Green was silent—thinking. He felt that he could fully trust this boy for whom he had conceived a liking at their first meeting. They had become friends since then, and under their bickering and banter was a sincere affection—though neither of them would have called it that. He soon made his decision.

  “I got somethin’ to tell yu,’ he said.

  “Speak on, Big Chief Cat o’ the Mountains; I’m all ears,’ Larry responded.

  “Damned if yu ain’t too, pretty near,’ grinned Green. “Well, never yu mind; slant them long listeners o’ yores this way, an’ don’t interrupt.’

  In a low voice he proceeded to relate the humiliation of Snub, which was as yet news at the ranch!

  Blaynes had heard of it from the gambler, but for once had exercised discretion about the stranger, and kept the knowledge to himself, and none of the Y Z outfit had visited the town save Snap, who did not chatter. Larry punctuated the recital with profane expressions of delight. When Green went on to recite the rescue of Noreen, the boy fell silent. The story ended—and told, as it was, in the baldest way, it did not take long—he said softly: “Yu shore have the luck. I’m speakin’ for the job of foreman, early an’ prompt.’

  “What fool idea yu got in yore head now?’ asked his friend. “Well,’ replied Larry, “Ain’t that the way it allus goes in the storybooks? The han’some hero dashes out o’ the blazin’ ruins, bearin’ the slender form o’ the heroine, with the tears streamin’ down her beautiful face, an—’

  “The tears’ll be streamin’ down yore by no means beautiful face an’ yu’ll be in good shape to figure as a blazin’ ruin yoreself if yu don’t stop talkin’ drivel,’ interrupted Green. “What do yu make o’ Snap bein’ stood up thataway?’ He went on to tell of his own share in the affair.

  “Shore is an odd number,’ Larry reflected. “Wonder what they split on? Pity he won’t talk; but he’s square, Snap is; I allus sort o’ liked him.’

  “There’s somethin’ or somebody big behind it all,’ Green said musingly. “It ain’t just a common steal of a few cattle. Trouble is, we ain’t got an atom o’ proof. Well, it’s no good a-worryin’.’

  “Not a bit,’ responded Larry, and added the entirely irrelevant remark, “Say, Don, I hope yu get her.’

  “I hope yu get sense, yu chump,’ drawled Green. “Do yu s’pose a girl like that would look twice at me? ‘Sides, I ain’t got no time for women. When this little tangle is straightened out, I gotta job that looks like keepin’ me busy for a long time.’

  “If it’s one that two can tackle, deal me a hand,’ Larry said quickly.

  “Thank yu,’ said his friend, and meant it.

  “Shucks!’ came the ready reply. “I can keep my eye on that foreman’s job thataway. S’long. It’s me for the hay.’

  He slid into the gloom, leaving the older man still perched on the rail of the corral. Though he had not known it, the boy’s light words had left a sting behind them. The cowpuncher’s eyes turned involuntarily to the still-lighted windows of the ranch-house. Was it possible that a girl like that could ever come to care for such a man as he? The idea seemed absurd, and yet he dallied with it. The feel of her arms round his neck, though it had been necessary, and he knew she had hardly been conscious of what she was doing, remained an ever-present memory. The picture of a settled home, with a wife, and perhaps kiddies, was a powerful temptation to one who had spent years of his life as a wanderer, and alone. But he thrust it aside with an almost savage laugh at his own folly.

  “I’m gettin’ soft,’ he muttered. “An’ there ain’t no moon neither.’

  But he looked again at the ranch-house before he turned to seek his pillow.

/>   Chapter IX

  THE Frying Pan ranch lay to the west of the Y Z, the two ranges being separated by a narrow strip of broken country difficult to cross. But there were one or two gaps in the barrier in the shape of level stretches, one of them not far from the cabin where Bud had been done to death. For years the desirability of fencing these openings had been admitted by both owners, but nothing had been done, though the line-riders cursed the omission almost daily.

  The Frying Pan outfit had been busy for a week or more rounding up a herd to be trail-driven east to the nearest railway point of shipment. The result of their efforts, some five hundred head of cattle, was now gathered on an expanse of good grass only a few miles from the ranch-house, awaiting the final selection. It was a still, dark night, only a few stars were visible, and the animals were settling down contentedly. A lone rider, moving spectral-like on the outskirts of the herd, was intoning monotonously an utterly unprintable ballad. Suddenly came the howl of a coyote, and the rider pulled up and peered into the darkness. The sound seemed to come from ahead of him; a moment later came an answering cry which appeared to emanate from behind him.

  “Funny,’ he muttered. “Must be a couple of ‘em : even a coyote couldn’t cover the ground in time. Them sweet accents didn’t sound just alike neither. Gimme half a chance, yu prowlin’ thieves, an’ I’ll hang yore grey hides on the fence.’

  He loosened his pistol in the holster and rode slowly on. Presently the blurred, indistinct mass of another horseman loomed up in the darkness, and the cowboy’s right hand instinctively went to his gun.

  “That yu, Lucky?’ he asked, and when no answer came, he added, “What’s eatin’ yu? Ain’t afraid yu’ll catch cold in yore insides if yu open that hole in yore face, are yu?’

  A low chuckle came in response and the blur waved an arm. A faint swish followed, and ere the cowboy could dodge the danger a loop dropped over his shoulders and he was yanked suddenly from his saddle. Even in the act of falling, however, he snatched out his gun and fired two rapid shots into the air. A second later a crashing blow from a pistol-barrel laid him senseless. Other riders instantly appeared out of the gloom.