Sudden Takes The Trail (1940) s-6

by Strange, Oliver

  "Is is you--Dave?"

  "Shore thing," he replied, and executed a miniature war-dance, for not only was it the Widow's voice, but she had used his first name. "Are you tied up?"

  "No, but I can't leave without my baby." When the signifiance of this had seeped in, he swore under his breath. "They ain't got him," he told her.

  A deeply-breathed "Thank God!" reached him.

  "Can yu grab my rope, make it fast to somethin', an' slide down?" he asked, and when she eagerly promised, added an afterthought, "Fetch that food along--we'll need it." He heard the window open and sent the loop of his rope spinning up to her; she caught and went to secure it. A few moments and she was back, but he would not let her descend until he had tested the lasso by throwing his own weight upon it. Anxiously he watched her scramble on to the sill.

  "Grip tight an' come down slow--it ain't far," he warned.

  Nevertheless, she arrived with a rush, and would have fallen had he not been there to steady her.

  "My hands--they're on fire," she murmured. "Oh, I never was so glad to see anyone, but I knew--I hoped--you would find me. I think I can stand now." Slinking along in the shadow of the building, they made a dash across the open space, and reached the spot where the horse had been left; there was no sign of it.

  "You haven't mistaken the place?" the Widow asked. "No, there's the branch I tied him to--though that warn't really necessary," Dave replied. "It ain't broke." They searched the surrounding brush without success, and then Dave said, "Well, we'd never get out o' this wilderness on foot; I'll have to take a chance o' swipin' a pony, I guess."

  "Better guess again, Masters," a sarcastic voice advised. "A deppity-marshal ain't supposed to steal horses, an' besides, it can't be did." Dave whirled round, right hand on his gun, but could see no one. The voice continued :

  "Six rifles are coverin' you this moment, an' we're all hopin' you'll be obstinate. Show him, fellas." On all sides the moonlight glinted on gun-barrels thrust through the foliage. Dave shrugged--resistance would be just suicide.

  "The pot is yores," he said.

  They closed in on him and one took charge of his weapon. All were masked, a circumstance which brought a sneer of contempt to the deputy's lips.

  "Yu can take that rag off, Mullins," he said to the leader. "Though I admit it improves yore looks."

  "Clever, ain't you?" the ruffian replied. "If I hadn't somethin' else for you, somethin' more interestin', I'd blow you four ways this minit," he threatened. "But--wait."

  "Whatever the cost, it'll be worth it," Dave said defiantly.

  "you've reached the limit a'ready," was Jake's reply. "Tie him up an' shove him in the wood-shed." The young man had another inspiration. "See here, I've had nothin' to eat since mornin'; I won't last no time at the torture-stake if I'm starvin'."

  "Give him grub; he'll need to be good an' strong tomorrow. I'll 'tend to the woman." Dejected Mary Gray preceded him back to her prison. By the fitful light of the candle--which was still burning--he surveyed her with evil exultation.

  "Now what do you think?"

  "That you are as great a liar as scoundrel," she retorted, and for a moment her sombre eyes regarded him. "And that you have not long to live, Jake Mullins." The sinister prophecy, uttered in a low passionless tone, startled the bandit for the instant, but he threw off the eerie sensation with a coarse laugh.

  "Then I'd best make the most o' my time," he gibed, and moved towards her.

  Appalled at his expression, she shrank back, whereat he laughed again, delighting in the mental anguish he was inflicting. Cowering against the wall, faint with horror, she knew that her fate hung in the balance. Then greed of gold triumphed over a still baser appetite. Dave's rope was still hanging from the window. He drew it in and proceeded to secure her wrists and ankles. "Safe bind, safe find," he quoted. "When I've dealt with yore lover, you an' me'll have another li'l pow-wow." He extinguished the candle and went out, leaving her broken, despondent, her mind now obsessed by one fear only--what would he do to the man who had risked all to rescue her? Dave, reclining with his head on a pile of kindling, was wakened in the morning by the opening of his prison-door, and blinking in the sudden light, saw his gaoler of the night before regarding him with an expression of amused surprise. He noticed that the fellow was no longer masked. "Got rid o' yore toothache, I see."

  "On'y troubles me after dark," the other grinned, and then, "If you knew what was comin' you wouldn't be so peart."

  "Breakfast is comin', I hope," was the jaunty reply.

  The gaoler reached a plate and steaming mug from behind the open door. "Shore, I brung it, bread, fried hawg'sbelly, an' corfy." The man slackened the rope on his wrists a little, and stood, gun in hand, regarding him with reluctant admiration.

  "Women an' food shouldn't be kept waiting," Dave remarked oracularly, and proceeded to polish off the meal in quick time. This done, he rolled a cigarette, lighted it, leaned back, sent a perfect smoke-ring quivering on the still air, and resumed the conversation : "How come yo're tailin' after a fella like Jake--a crook, an' not smart at that? Lookit the mess he made o' the bank affair."

  "Save yore breath, Masters; you might as well try to corrupt me." The interruption came from Mullins himself, but if he expected the prisoner to be abashed, he was mistaken.

  "Which would be a shockin' waste o' time--yu can't corrupt anythin' that's rotten a'ready. Beautiful, here, tells me yo're anxious about my health. Well, it's fine an' dandy." The sallow face darkened and became more malevolent.

  "Good, a well man dies the harder," Jake replied.

  Dave looked round. "I allus wanted to pass out in the sunshine," he replied coolly.

  Jake's expression was that of a devil. "You'll shore git yore wish--an' regret it. Fetch him along, hoys." Four others appeared, leading horses. Dave was dragged to his feet, hoisted into the saddle of his own pony, and securely tied. The four mounted, and with their leader, closed in on him.

  "So long, Beautiful," Dave said. "Pity yu gotta herd with the jackals--yu might 'a' been a reg'lar fella." The gaoler watched them disappear into the woods. "He's got grit, that boy," he muttered. "Too bad, but I can't do nothin'." Dave rode in silence, his face set and unreadable. Theywere following a faint trail, sun-splashed where a break in the overhead foliage permitted the rays to penetrate, but for the most, darkened and dismal.

  Presently they arrived at a small level clearing of sand and short grass hemmed in by low bushes, and here the leader dismounted.

  "This'll do fine," he said. "Plenty o' sun--as I promised." Dave stared about him curiously; there were no trees of any size adjacent. Mullins read his thought.

  "We ain't goin' to stretch yore neck--that would be too easy, an' wouldn't near pay what I owe you," he said, and to his men, "Git busy." Hauled from the saddle and flung to the ground in the middle of the clearing--an operation which resulted in sundry bruises for those who performed it--the prisoner was still undaunted. Hands and feet were fettered, but his tongue was free. He knew that he was about to die a lingering death; if he could provoke a swift one .. .

  "Yo're a cowardly cur, Mullins," he taunted. "If yu had the pluck of a rabbit, yu'd deal with me yoreself, but yu get four other white-livered houn's to do the job yo're afeard to handle." For an instant he thought he had succeeded, for Jake stepped towards him, gun gripped, stark murder in his eyes. Then he laughed, and motioned to his minions.

  Their procedure was singular. Two of them held the victim down while the others attached strong cords to his wrists and ankles, and drove four stout pegs into the earth. His other bonds were then removed, each cord pulled tight and secured to a peg, leaving him spreadeagled on his back, arms and legs at full stretch. Jake, having inspected the knots, stood looking down with sadistic satisfaction at the man he was about to leave to a dreadful fate.

  "Take yore fill o' sunshine yo're so fond of," he said, and with a loathsome leer, "While you frizzle here, I shall be with--Mary."

  "Jim Green
'll send yu to hell for this," Dave promised.

  "I think you'll beat me to it. In two days I shall come an' look at yore scattered bones, picked clean by wolves, coyotes, buzzards or--somethin'." Dave could not see that his glance had gone to a little mound of sand at one side of the clearing. He shot his last arrow.

  "Two days? yore own bones will be moulderin' by then --yu got the death sign on yu a'ready." The shaft went home. With a savage curse, the bandit climbed into his saddle. When one of the band asked a question, he shook his head.

  "They'll happen on him, sooner or later," he said. "An' I hope it'll be later." They departed, and for some time, Dave made no attempt to move; it was possible they were watching, and he had no desire to afford amusement. Presently he raised his head the few inches he was able, but no cackle of mirth greeted him, only the chattering of the birds. Desperately he strained at the cords, but the pegs were immovable, and the men who had tied the knots had done their work thoroughly. Moreover, his position prevented him obtaining any purchase. Repeated efforts failed to loosen the tie-ropes even a fraction, and at length he gave it up as hopeless, and lay there, gazing into the blue dome in which the sun hung, a polished brazen disc, with no vestige of cloud to dim its radiance. In a few hours it would be directly above him, the vertical rays like jets of flame, sucking the moisture from his body.

  "A couple o' days," he mused. "Fella can last that long without grub, but water . . ." The sun had climbed higher, scorching his bared skin, and his limbs, held in that one posture, were becoming numb and cramped. Wearily he closed his eyes, but the rays seemed to pierce the lids, causing a dull ache.

  But however dire his extremity, a young, healthy man instinctively clings to life, and Dave was no quitter. Well-nigh blinded by the incessant glare, his flesh blistered,and his whole frame crying for water, he lay, supine, listless.

  A tiny bite, followed by another, aroused him. Twisting his head, he could just see his right hand; several insects were crawling upon it, and more were coming. Ants ! The significance of Jake's last words was clear enough now. They had found him, these terrible little scavengers, who in tens of thousands would invade every inch of his carcase, and leave it only when nothing remained save bones to bleach in the burning sun. In that one bitter moment of realization Jake had his revenge, and then Dave steeled himself to meet the agony to come.

  Chapter XVIII

  WHEN the marshal set out to search for his assistant, he rode straight to the Dumb-bell ranch-house. Sark, he argued, would be the first to fall under Dave's suspicion, and he hoped to pick up the missing man's trail there. To his surprise, he found the place deserted, but for the black cook, who eyed his badge of office with evident trepidation.

  "Where's yore master?" Sudden inquired.

  "I dunno, sah," was the reply. "He's out--deys all out." The marshal took out a coin, spun it in the air; and caught it; the darkie's eyes gleamed at the glint of the gold. "It usually pays to tell the truth, Juba--that's yore name, ain't it?" he said, and when the negro nodded, "Right. Mebbe yu can help. Sark had a visitor yestiddy, a young fella named Masters. What happened?" Juba hesitated, glancing right and left fearfully. The coin flashed into the air again, and seemed to act as a spur.

  "Neber see him come," he began. "I hear high voices in de front room. Dey's fightin' wid dere han's. Dey slam one anoder all ober de place, an' den de young one t'row de boss clean ober his shoulder an' he lit 'mong de brekfuss t'ings; I neber did see a table cleared so quick. De boss is out, lyin' pow'ful still on de flo'. De young fella takes one look at him, grabs his gun, an' goes off whistlin' a chune."

  "He'd walk into hell doin' that," Sudden smiled. "Where'd he head for?"

  "I neber see, sah; de boss come to life right after." Sudden flipped the coin into the air again, this time towards Juba. "Put that some place yore boss can't steal it," he said. "An' yu needn't to mention I called." Cutting short the cook's protestation of gratitude and obedience with a wave of the hand, he rode away. What would be Dave's next move? Obviously, he would seek Mullins. Cutting across the straight line between that and the hills, he presently came upon hoof-marks, and, at intervals, traces of some white substance.

  For a while the white "sign" was plentiful, enabling him to travel quickly, but then it became infrequent--evidently the supply was running out in more than one sense. However, it led him across an area of hard ground where a horse would leave no tracks, and so to the fringe of the black mantle of timber masking the mountain-side, and a cleverly-concealed opening in what appeared to be an impenetrable wall of undergrowth. This was the other approach Dave had guessed at, and was much more direct than the one he had been at such pains to discover.

  Leaving the sunlight behind, Sudden paced steadily along a path which swung right and left to lessen the gradient. For an hour the climb continued, and then came the scrape of a slipping hoof, followed by an oath. Sudden swerved behind a convenient bush, got down, and drew a gun. Round a bend, sitting his horse slackly, a rider appeared.

  "Git 'em up, friend." The unexpected command made the fellow start, but he did not hesitate to obey. The marshal stepped out of the shadow, his own weapon levelled. "Hand her over, buttfirst," he said, and when this had been done, "Now talk, straight an' fast. Where's Mullins' hang-out?"

  "Never heard " He halted abruptly as the menacing gun lifted an inch.

  "One more crack like that an' I'll be diggin' a hole for yu," was the harsh reminder.

  "It's up the trail a piece," the other said sullenly.

  "Seen anythin' of a fella named Masters?"

  "He was locked up all night, an' this mornin' Jake an' four others took him away; they come back with a spare hoss--his'n. What happened, I dunno." Sudden got into his saddle and gestured meaningly with his gun. "Yu an' me is goin' to look for him," he announced. "An' if we don't find him yu'll be outa luck. Lead on."

  "I'll do my best, but--knowin' Jake--I figure it's a waste o' time," the man said. He swerved off to the east, forcing a way through a jumble of vegetation, to pull up after a while where a tiny rill from the heights above spread to form a moist patch. "There's tracks here, but o' course ..."

  "Yu say Masters was on his own pony?" The guide nodded. Sudden examined the hoof-prints. "We've struck it," he said, pointing to one of them. "Dave allus had a cross cut in one shoe for luck." They rode on, came to a deeper pool in a rock hollow which broke the passage of a larger stream, and paused to drink. Jake's party had evidently done the same, for there were more prints. A few hundred yards brought them to the clearing, and the prostrate form of the man they sought.

  "Gawd-a-mighty ! " the rustler breathed. "Ants ! He's a goner." But Sudden had seen a slight movement of the puffed lips, and sprang down, crying, "Cut the ropes, an' lift him up." A moment sufficed for this. "Run him to the pool we just passed." Half dragging, half carrying, they got their burden to the water, leaving the horses to follow, but before they reached it, the rescuers also were having a taste of what Dave had suffered; in scores of places at once their skins were sharply punctured by the voracious little pests, with whom Dave's body was still alive.

  "Hell ! " the guide swore. "The beggars must be damn' near all teeth."

  "We'll see if they can swim," Sudden replied. "Get right under." Pushing his friend ahead of him, he waded into the pool, and their companion lost no time in following. The cool water was a heaven-sent anodyne for their smarting bodies and speedily relieved them of the unwelcome visitors. Not until they were sure of this did they emerge and spread their saturated garments, and themselves, in the sun to dry. By this time, Dave had regained his wits.

  "Jim, yo're a wonder," he said. "I owe yu "

  "Nothin'," Sudden told him brusquely. "There's a tree just outa Welcome . . ." Knowing his friend, Dave said no more, and turned his attention to the other man. "Hello, Beautiful, I never expected to see yu again. How come?"

  "Rowley's the name," the rustler returned uncomfortably. "I'm right glad we was in time."

 
; "It was him fetched me here," Sudden said.

  Dave nodded; he had a pretty clear idea of what had taken place. "Mister, I'd thank Satan hisself for gettin' me out'n that fix," he confessed. "I'm mighty grateful, even if yu are on the other side." He held out a badly-swollen hand; Rowley grasped it gingerly. "I ain't," he replied. "I quit soon as I saw you spread out there. Bumpin' off a fella you don't like is one thing, but my skin's white, an' I got no use for torture."

  "I'm goin' to like yu," the deputy said. He regarded himself ruefully. "I must 'a' lost a lot o' weight."

  "Yu've put some on, by the look o' yu," Sudden corrected.

  He had just finished drying and reloading his guns and that of the rustler, and now he passed the latter's over tohim, and went to see how their clothes were progressing. The man's eyes widened at this proof of confidence. Dave's face was distorted into what was intended to be a grin.

  "That's means yo're adopted, Beautiful," he said.

  "He was takin' a hell of a chance."

  "Jim's used to that, but he don't often guess wrong."

  "I'll bet high he can fight."

  "Ask Jake Mullins."

  "I ain't honin' to see that fella no more."

  "Allasame, I'm afraid yu gotta." This from Sudden, who had rejoined them in time to overhear the remark. "As yu know, Rowley, there's a li'l woman in Jake's han's who badly needs a friend. Mc an' Dave can't go back, but yu can, without bein' suspicioned. It won't be long afore we return an' smoke out that swarm o' hornets. Will you do this?"

  "Glad to," Rowley replied readily, and turned to Dave. "Say, you ain't got a gun; take mine."

  "That's right kind o' yu, but he won't need any," Sudden put in. "What he must have is a mount."

  "I can hoof it in. My bronc havin' broke a leg, I just naturally has to shoot it."

  "0' course, but yu gotta tote in yore gear, or it'll look phoney. Can yu ride if the hoss don't have a saddle, Dave?"

  "I can ride him if he don't have a back," the young man retorted.

  "Right, then, we're takin' different trails. yo're ridin' to Welcome to round up some o' the boys. How strong is Jake, Rowley?"