Action Stories, October, 1938
Daunt, renegade-Ranger, six-gunned his past. But the Ranger code—and Ranger courage—takes plenty killing.
APTAIN DAUNT raised his crippled
“Nearly there,” he monotoned. “Nearly
right hand and swore an oath by its
where your gold will do you no good, Kramer.
C missing third finger. His eyes were Nearly where I can make you squirm, you burning, flame-filled pools of jet.
dog.”
But his voice was cold—dangerously
Daunt lowered his hand. He turned
cold.
and, with even rhythmed strides, approached
Action Stories
2
his horse, rein-tethered nearby. His three-
dusky dampness of the place. And men of
fingered hand brushed caressingly against a
many nations watched him as he came in.
holstered gun at his hip as he walked. Eyes
still afire from the setting sun which topped THE three lean fingers of his right hand
the Sierra Negras, straight-backed and easy in brushed his bolstered gun as Daunt strode
his saddle, Captain Perry Daunt, formerly of
forward. Glowing yellow in the dim light, a
the Texas Rangers, clinked his silver spurs
gold piece clinked on the bar. His back was
against the sides of his buckskin bronc. He
turned to a score of unfriendly guns. There
jogged toward the cluster of ’dobe shacks
were those there who might have known that
which was Rimrock.
Captain Perry Daunt had killed many, many
Rimrock that squalidly, brazenly, men of their kind. There were those who climbed the mountains far south of The River.
might have been waiting, hate in their hearts, Rimrock where Kramer, the evil one, squat,
for such a chance as this. Any man there
sleepy-eyed, as indolently indifferent as the might suddenly take it into his head to slap
town to which he gave name, sat, smirked and
lead into the steel-muscled body of the Ranger gurgled delightedly as the gold from lost souls outcast.
rolled in an unceasing stream into his bloody But Daunt’s back was turned,
hands.
indifferently, to them all. His thin lips grimly And toward Rimrock, hate in his heart,
ironic, he looked at the fat, puffed face of Jose rode Captain Perry Daunt. Daunt the three-Aguilar.
fingered, the gun-slick of the law. Daunt who
“Whiskey,” he ordered. “Whiskey—
used to be known as Daunt the courageous.
and Kramer!”
But who was now called a traitor. Daunt, who
Like the indrawing breath of a sucking
used to rate the snappy salutes of lean, tanned, bellows they gasped, those men behind Daunt.
slim-fingered right hands, but who now rated
Whiskey—and Kramer! That was something!
a muttered curse, a blush of shame, or averted It caused a slit-eyed, two-gunned gent
eyes.
to step easily away from the group behind
Into the street end of the sun-blasted
Captain Daunt. It caused the few who still
village, head up, back straight, rode Daunt,
were at the bar to edge carefully away. His
whom men called traitor. Eyes straight ahead, spurs clinking softly in the tortured silence of cold resolution in the set lines of his face, he the room, the man who had separated himself
rode past pock-marked, grinning mestizos, from the group strode toward Daunt. He
past double-gunned, hard-eyed killers, past stopped on wide-spread feet. Gently, with his tired-faced, alabaster skinned, shoulder-left hand, he tapped the wide, dust-grimed
slumped women. Women with too-red lips
shoulder of Captain Daunt. His eyes and his
and with circles under their eyes. On, past
voice were cold-mocking.
squatty, squalid ’dobes, the target of eyes that
“And who,” he asked, as Daunt turned
hated, eyes that wondered, and eyes that were about, “are you—stranger?”
masked with indifference, rode Daunt. He
Daunt’s answer came crisply from
never once glanced aside.
straight, unsmiling lips.
He eased from his saddle seat. Careless
“You call me right,” he said. “I’m
confidence in his carriage, he strode into the just—a stranger.”
yawning doorway of the cantina of Jose
“Stranger!” It was filled with venom,
Aguilar—a doorway yawning seductively. that voice from the group at the rear.
From the clean sunshine he stepped into the
“Stranger, hell! That’s Daunt. Captain Daunt.
A Ranger Rides to Rimrock
3
That’s th’ John Law hairpin—a gun-slick on
“Listen, Kid,” he said tightly, “this is
wheels—th’ coyote gent what sold his Ranger
so old it’s got whiskers on it. But if you laugh gang for some o’ Kramer’s coin.”
at me, I’ll—I’ll—”
The fellow laughed raucously. Daunt’s
“I won’t,” said the Kid, “—not out
jaw muscles tightened. His face whitened loud.”
beneath its heavy coating of tan. The speaker Tracy waved toward a chair and
stepped from the group, grinned mockingly at
cocked his feet on the desk top. The Brazos
Daunt.
Kid sat down, rolling himself a quirley.
“Yeah!” he growled. “Daunt, he sold
Lieutenant Tracy blew smoke at the ceiling.
out. And he did more than that. He let Kramer There was pathos in his voice. “It was
take ...”
hell, Kid. You know it, even if it was before
“Ah—” A sigh from Daunt.
your time.” Tracy shook his head slowly, and
A curse from the other.
sighed. “Captain Perry Daunt,” he said, “was
Then there was lightning in Daunt’s
the finest, the bravest, and the best Texas
hand. And the hell in his eyes flamed with the Ranger who ever slapped his seat in saddle
flash of his own long-barreled gun. Death
leather.”
drilled into the chests of two—the two who
The Kid’s cool, blue eyes peered
had talked about something else besides a sell-covertly at Tracy. But he said nothing.
out.
The lieutenant breathed hard.
Daunt swayed forward, iron steady on
“Crooked?” he asked softly. “Daunt
the group before him.
crooked? Took money to let Kramer get
“Whiskey and Kramer,” he whispered.
away? No, Kid, he didn’t do it!”
“That’s all. Just whiskey and Kramer.”
Tracy still stared at the wall. The
Slowly, cautiously, he squatted Brazos Kid licked the loose edge of his forward. Quickly, with a move of his wrist, he quirley. “I ain’t laughin’,” he reminded.
slid his gun out on the floor, then empty-
The lieutenant nodded. “All right,” he
handed, he stood before them, this jasper who said softly, and settled himself in his chair.
had just killed two of th
eir kind.
“Eighteen years ago a gent named Kramer was
He was cold meat for the gun slicks of
running dope—running everything he could
Rimrock. And they stood there, staring. They
run, for that matter. Trafficked in girls. Killed, licked their lips hungrily. But they didn’t murdered, rustled. Every thing that was shoot!
damnable, Kramer did. And we caught him—
Daunt turned. Again his back was caught him cold—Daunt and me. In the scrap toward them, his face to the bar. “Whiskey,”
Kramer shot a finger off Daunt’s right hand.
he said to Jose. “Whiskey, spik! And send for But we had Kramer in irons. We were going
Kramer!”
to move him next day. But next morning—he
Hand steady, Daunt raised a glass to
was gone.”
his lips. But, in spite of his pose of
Tracy stopped suddenly. He looked
indifference, cold fear tugged at his vitals. A sharply at the lean face of the Brazos Kid. But fear that he would never live to see Kramer...!
the Kid’s eyes and face were expressionless.
Again Tracy sighed. “That’s why
II
you’ll do,” he muttered, as if to himself.
“Poker face—poker eyes— Just a blank.” He
RANGER Lieutenant Harry Tracy gazed puffed at his dead cigarette and threw it from truculently at the Brazos Kid.
him.
Action Stories
4
“Daunt admitted it,” continued Tracy
Somebody who’s just interested in Texas, in
slowly. “Said he took money to let Kramer
clean things.”
make a getaway. Wrote it in a note he left
Tracy stopped. He didn’t look around.
behind him. There was merry hell about it. A
The Brazos Kid studied the
stink you could smell clear to Austin. Rumors lieutenant’s profile. Faint, almost
about this and that. Wild tales that no sensible imperceptible, there was a whimsical smile on man would believe. And to top it all off, there the Kid’s thin lips.
were stories about Daunt selling his wife and
“Yeah,” he said absently, “I reckon
daughter to Kramer.
mebby they could.”
“But this much I do know. Daunt’s
The Kid stood up. He hitched his gun
wife and little girl left here when Kramer did.
belts about his lithe hips. He reached under his And Daunt’s wife was seen with Kramer in
vest and unpinned a badge. He extended it to
Mexico, I can’t explain that, but it’s true.
Tracy. “Better keep this for me,” he said.
“But, Kid, I know Daunt. I fought “Mebby, when I’m on furlough, I might get beside him in the days when saddle leather
drunk, and somebody’d steal it.”
was the only way we had of going places. And
Tracy grinned and accepted the badge.
a gent that earns his eighty bucks a month the He opened a drawer of his desk and put the
way Daunt and I did in those days don’t turn
badge inside. His face sobered again as he did coyote for a few lousy dollars. When a man’s
it. He studied the Kid and sighed.
a Texas Ranger, Kid, he’ll be a Ranger till he
“Well,” said the Kid tonelessly, “I’ll
dies.”
be seein’ yuh.”
The Brazos Kid puffed a little faster on
He moved toward the door. Tracy’s
his cigarette. But his eyes were the same.
eyes followed him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I reckon that’s right.”
FOR many minutes Daunt stood alone at the
TRACY nodded. “Dam’ right,” he said. deserted bar in the cantina of Jose Aguilar.
“Daunt lied. I don’t know why, but he did. He The raspy, nervous shuffle of a booted foot,
didn’t take money from Kramer. He hated
the high-pitched note of a woman’s hysterical Kramer’s guts. He hated everything that laugh, the deep mutter of a masculine Kramer stood for. Of course, eventually it
undertone—only these sounds broke the
quieted down. Kramer must have made a lot
silence. Daunt stood laxly between the
of money and quit. He dropped out of the
prostrate forms of the two men he had killed, picture for about eighteen years. And so did
toyed absently with his glass, and waited.
Daunt.
Waited for Kramer....
“But now it’s started again. From over
And Daunt knew when he came. He
yonder—” Tracy jerked his thumb in the knew it before he heard the soft “ah-h-h” of direction of Mexico, “—we’re getting the old
many indrawn breaths, the tinkle of
rumors again. Kramer’s back. The dope is
approaching spurs, and the ponderous,
getting through. Chinks, everything, coming
confident tread behind him. With studied-
across. And Daunt, say the rumors, he’s back
slowness he turned, his eyes masked. He
too—over there some place. Maybe there’s
stared at Kramer.
nothing to it. But I’ve been wondering, Kid, if Kramer twisted his ugly face into a
a gent with a good poker face and a slick gun sardonic grin, squinted at the ex-lawman over hand might not be able to do some good—
a cocked gun.
over there. Somebody who’s not a Ranger.
“You’re late, Daunt. I been expectin’
A Ranger Rides to Rimrock
5
you for eighteen years. ’S’matter—couldn’t
toward Kramer. “Hell, no,” he said feelingly.
you find me?”
“I said a good job. I mean it. Next to you, I’m Daunt shrugged, and waved his left
the jefe grande, or it’s no bet. Either I’m th’
hand toward the gun lying in the center of the big bull of th’ woods, or I take a bullet in th’
floor. “Cut th’ heroics,” he answered coldly.
guts. That’s flat, Kramer.”
“There’s my gun. I killed two of your men
Puzzled, eyes uncertain, Kramer took
with it.” He spread his arms expressively. “I the gun. He looked down at it. Then facing
don’t give a damn,
toward Daunt again, his eyes glowed.
Kramer—now. Shoot—go to hell—or give me
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “I
a good job. I don’t care which— not a bit.”
believe you mean it.” But his voice was
His voice was flat, void of expression.
kindled with disbelief.
Kramer peered shrewdly into Daunt’s
Daunt didn’t speak. He stared straight
eyes. He chuckled throatily. It was a nasty, a at the big man, coldly, icily.
triumphant chuckle. “I begin to sabe,” he Kramer dropped his eyes again.
grinned. “You heard that she was gone, eh?
Slowly, he opened the loading gate of the gun You heard that th’ kid was gone, too.” He
Daunt had returned to him. One click at a
grunted contemptuously. “You fool. You time, while he sardonically watched for a tell-sentimental dam’ fool....”
tale expression on Daunt’s face, Kramer
Kramer stopped talking, seemingly punched the ejection rod through empty perplexed, as Daunt turned abruptly to the bar.
chambers. He stepped closer to the ex-Ranger.
“Whiskey,” Daunt said hoarsely to the
“It wasn’t loaded,” he said. “But I
; Mexican barkeep.
expected you to try.” He shook his massive
Kramer grinned at Daunt’s back. He
head. “I don’t sabe it, Daunt. I swear I don’t.”
raised his cocked gun a little higher, stepped There was puzzlement in his voice.
close. Like the hombre who now lay dead on Daunt shrugged, turned to the bar
the floor, he tapped Daunt on the shoulder.
again. He poured himself still another drink. “I
“Here,” he said, extending the gun as
won’t explain it to you,” he said, glass in
Daunt turned, “here’s a gun. You’ve got a
hand. “Take it or leave it. I don’t care about job.”
that, either.”
Carelessly Kramer turned away from
Kramer backed away. Suddenly his
the broken lawman. Gun in hand, Daunt face flamed. His loaded gun swept on. “I’ve studied Kramer’s back. His eyes flashed then
got it,” he shouted. “I’ve got it now. You’ve filmed.-
got a conscience. You wouldn’t shoot me till I
“What—what kind of a job?”
made a play. You’ve got a hide-out gun and
“Particular, eh?” sneered Kramer. you want me to force th’ issue. So your damn’
“Any kind of a job—anything I say! That’s
puritanical soul could rest in peace if you
what kind of a job, Captain Daunt!”
killed me.” Kramer’s big face was livid. “All Daunt was cold, while Kramer’s breath
right, Daunt,” he cried, “make your play. I’m came fast with passion. Slowly he shook his
A Ranger Rides to Rimrock by John G Page 1