Sudden--Troubleshooter (A Sudden Western) #5 (14 page)

‘Don’t look any better than
the others,’ he told himself. Just as he did so, however, a dark
shape loomed on his right, then lumbered off into the
brush.

The puncher sat erect in the saddle, all
traces of weariness disappearing. A broad grin appeared on his
face, and he patted the horse, whose ears had perked up in
interest.

‘Yu seen him too, did yu?’
Sudden smiled. ‘Best lookin’ cow I seen in many a long day, Night.
Let’s take a look-see if he’s got any friends.’

Midnight was a trained
cow-pony. It took no more than a touch of his rider’s heels to send
him leaping forward after the retreating steer and, within moments,
Sudden
found himself amid a milling bunch
of perhaps thirty or forty cattle.

A quick glance showed him
that they carried the Saber brand, and his lips pursed
thoughtfully. Pulling his horse’s head around, Sudden headed on up
the darkening canyon. The building thunderstorm was casting its
pall over the entire area; he could no longer see the mouth of the
canyon. Overhead, thunder rolled more regularly.

‘Fixin’ to storm,’ Sudden
told himself. ‘I wonder if there’s some kind o’ shelter up
here?’

As if in answer to his
unspoken question a light sprang into view as he rounded a slight
bend in the canyon. He kicked Midnight into a canter, and in a
moment could see the outline of a small cabin hulking against the
canyon wall. He rode openly towards it, and when he was within a
few yards of the house yelled, ‘Hello, the house!’

The door opened, and a bent old figure
appeared, peering into the near-darkness.

‘Who’s there?’ demanded a
crotchety voice. ‘Who’s there?’

Without answering, Sudden
dismounted and led the horse forward. The light in the cabin gave
him the advantage, for he could now plainly see that the occupant
was an old man, whose graying hair and silvered beard glinted in
the lamplight.

‘It’s me – Green,’ the
cowboy called. ‘Where can I put the horse?’

‘Tether him in back o’ the
cabin,’ called the old man, ‘an’ come in so I can shut this danged
door!’

After he had done as he was bid, Sudden went
around the house and opened the door. The old man was pottering
over a battered old iron stove, and the delicious smell of fresh
coffee was strong in the room.

‘Coffee smells good,’ Green
observed.

‘It’s fair,’ was the
oldster’s comment. ‘I had enough practice.’

The puncher’s eye travelled
swiftly over the tiny cabin. It was barely furnished; in one corner
were two bunks, one above the other. A table, some chairs, a few
rude shelves, and the pot-bellied iron stove were all its
furnishings. The only window was boarded up, and the
floor was beaten earth, stamped flat by years of
use.

The old man was about
seventy, Sudden guessed, and if his hands were any indication he
had spent many years of his life in manual labor. Sudden risked a
guess.

‘Had any luck with yore
pannin’?’ he asked.

The old man turned, raising
his eyebrows. ‘How’d yu – oh, I suppose Jim told yu. Nope, not
much.’

‘Yu reckon yu’ll find
somethin’ up in these mountains?’ Sudden continued, playing along
with the conversation which, from the old man’s first remark, might
lead to something.

‘Got to be,’ the old man
said, pouring steaming mugs of coffee for them both. ‘Got to be. I
feel it in my bones. Come on, boy, set yoreself down. What yu say
yore name was – Green?’

‘That’s it,’ Sudden
replied. ‘Jim sets a mite easier.’

‘Jim. Yu both got the same
name. Must be confusin’ at times.’

Determined to play this
string out until it led somewhere, Sudden said, ‘Ain’t as many
times a day as yu’d think. I’m out on the range mostly’

The old man nodded. ‘Used
to know a feller named Green in Amarillo. Tom Green. Any relation
o’ yourn?’ His old eyes were bright and shrewd in the lamplight
over the rim of his coffee cup. Sudden shook his head.

‘I’m from New Mexico,’ he
told the old man. ‘This is good coffee.’

The oldster was not to be
diverted from his interest as easily as that. ‘I ain’t seen yu
afore,’ he said. ‘How come Jim sends yu up here instead o’
Mado?’

‘Mado’s a mite off color,’
Green lied. ‘Yu ain’t the on’y problem Jim’s got.’

The man’s words had
confirmed his suspicions; this canyon was a hideout for stolen
Saber beef, and Dancy was behind their theft. It was now necessary
to discover whether this old man knew of that; if he did, Sudden
knew that he was far from being out of danger. The old man nodded
at his remark about Dancy.

‘S’pose yo’re right.
Saber’s a big spread. Jim often sez to me, “Shorty,” he sez, “you
think yourself lucky yu ain’t got
my
troubles.” ’
He grinned toothlessly. ‘ “All
yu do is set here an’ mind cows for me,” he sez. “Yu get yore money
an’ yu
got no ambitions, ’ceptin’ to find a
paylode in these hills.” He’s a great josher, that Jim.’

‘He shore is,’ grinned
Sudden, finding himself liking this unpretentious old man. But he
had to know the truth. Jim tol’ me to tell yu he was goin’ to ride
up here an’ drive these cattle clear to the Army reservation an’
sell ’em. Said to tell yu he’d split fifty-fifty, an’ yu could both
retire.’

He watched the old man
narrowly as he spoke these words, but Shorty wheezed with laughter,
slapping his thigh so hard that dust flew from his ancient
corduroys. ‘That Dancy,’ he coughed, ‘he shore is a josher!’ There
was absolutely no nuance in his voice, and Sudden was convinced
that the old man had no real knowledge of Dancy’s intentions. For
some reason he found himself very glad.

‘Yu been in these parts
long, Shorty?’ he asked.

‘Twenty years, man an’
boy,’ the old man said proudly. ‘I was here when Lafe Gunnison
first come to these parts.’

‘Yu know
Gunnison?’

‘Shore I know him. He
wouldn’t know me, but I know him. Know his boy, Randy, too. He was
up here a while back.’

It was Sudden’s turn to
look surprised, and the old man noticed his reaction.

‘That surprise yu, does
it?’ he cackled. ‘Surprised me, too! I allus thought Randy was as
much use as a fifth wheel on a wagon, but he rode up here with
Dancy all the same.’

‘What did he come for?’
asked Green. ‘I thought Dancy handled all the day-to-day
chores?’

‘Yo’re danged right,’ said
the old man. ‘Told Randy as much. He told me to shet my mouth, mind
my own business. Figgered. Allus had a mean mouth, Randy. Anyways,
him an’ Dancy was here a coupla hours, then they rode off north.
Expect they was headin’ for Riverton.’

Sudden nodded. The
revelation that Randolph Gunnison was a party to the theft of the
Saber’s cattle was astounding. Could it be that Dancy had
razzle-dazzled the rancher’s son? He asked a question of the old
man.

‘Friendly? I should smile,
they was! Thicker’n flies in
a Pawnee camp,
those two. More coffee?’

Green held out his cup silently. The
involvement of Randolph Gunnison in the thefts now put an entirely
different light on his own theories about the troubles in the
Yavapai.

‘Randy went to some fancy
school back east, didn’t he?’ he asked Shorty.

Fancy school, yep. Back
east, nope,’ said the old prospector, succinctly. ‘He went to some
place in Santy Fe. That’s a year or two ago, mind.’

‘Shore, I know that,’ Green
agreed. ‘He never
did
spend overmuch time on the Saber, far as I can
gather.’

‘Never more than he had
to,’ agreed Shorty. ‘Randy likes cards, gals, an’ likker. It’s work
he can’t stand, or so they says.’

Outside the cabin the storm broke. Green
heard the rain spattering like shot on the tin roof of the shack,
and he rose to his feet.

‘I better ‘tend to my
hoss,’ he told the old man. Shorty nodded, and the puncher let
himself into the driving storm. The rain was coming down now like a
solid sheet of water, and lightning flickered over the far peaks,
the thunder booming in its wake. Sudden led Midnight across the
open space behind the house to a lean-to on the far side of the
corral there. Unsaddling the stallion, he rubbed the horse down,
telling him. ‘It ain’t the Palace Ho-tel, Night, but yu been in
wuss.’

Slapping the glossy haunch, he donned the
slicker he had unstrapped from the saddle roll and sloshed his way
back through the mud to the cabin, his mind busy with the facts
which Shorty had unwittingly revealed.

He opened the door and found himself facing
the unwavering muzzle of an old Dragoon Colt; holding it fully
cocked was the old man, who was smiling like a cat at a
mouse-hole.

‘What’s this about?’ asked
Green mildly.

‘Yu ain’t no Saber rider!’
snapped Shorty. Hoist yore paws, mister, an’ start explainin’
yoreself!’

Green grinned, his smile disconcerting the
old man.

‘Ease off on that hammer,
ol’ timer,’ the cowboy said. ‘Yu might just blow a hole in me afore
I got time to reply.’

‘I might jest blow a hole
in yu for the hell of it,’ retorted Shorty. ‘An’ I won’t tell yu
again! Reach!’

Green raised his arms
obligingly, and as he did so, the front of the enveloping slicker
rose with them. In that same swift movement the cape caught the
menacing barrel of the cap and ball pistol, knocking it upwards.
The old man pulled the trigger by reflex, and the shot boomed
harmlessly into the ceiling. Before Shorty could recover himself
Sudden had seized the revolver and twisted it from the old man’s
grasp.

Shorty reeled backwards and
then surged forward again, trying ineffectually to land a blow on
the tall puncher’s body. Green held the old man off with some
difficulty; eventually he exerted his whipcord strength and frog
marched the oldster to a chair, where Shorty sat, winded and
cursing weakly.

‘Now rest easy a moment,’
Sudden told him. ‘Yo’re due an explanation, an’ I’ll give it to yu.
First, I’m a-puttin’ yu on yore word yu won’t try nothin’.
Agreed?’

Shorty glared at him
defiantly for a moment, and then shrugged. ‘If yo’re aimin’ to
steal them cattle, mister, yo’re loony. The Saber’ll track yu down
an’ skin yu for a saddle-blanket.’

‘Yo’re probably right,’
Green smiled. ‘Exceptin’ that the Saber don’t know these cattle is
up here.’

The old man snorted. ‘Yo’re
loco, Green – if that’s yore name!’

Sudden shook his head, and
in level tones told the old prospector what had brought him up into
the Yavapais, and of his suspicions that the thefts of Saber beef
had been engineered to throw suspicion upon the homesteaders. The
involvement of Dancy and Randolph Gunnison was plain, but he was
unable to pin down the reason for their actions – yet. All this and
more he told the old prospector, who sat and listened with first
disbelief, then astonishment, and in the end with exclamations of
disgust and anger.

‘To think them thievin’
mangy coyotes roped me in on their dirty dealin’s,’ he raged. ‘If
Lafe
Gunnison’d
run
on to this canyon he’d a’ hung me higher’n Haman! An’ I wouldn’t’ve
stood a chance.’

Green nodded. ‘Dancy an’
Randy Gunnison could’ve
easy called yu a
liar if yu’d got the chance to name them. The old man’d never
believe his son was stealin’ Saber beef.’

The old man let loose
another round of imaginative cursing, and then asked, ‘Where do yu
fit into all this, Jim?’

‘That’s easy answered,’
Sudden told him. ‘I work for Jake Harris over in the
Mesquites.’

‘Them homestead outfits, yu
mean?’ the old man asked. When Green nodded affirmatively, Shorty
mused, ‘I ain’t never met any o’ them, but if yo’re with ’em I’ll
stake my washin’s they’re honest. Yu reckon Dancy an’ Randy been
sellin’ Saber beef to these
hombres
in Riverton?’

Green nodded. ‘It’s got to
be that way, Shorty,’ he told the prospector. ‘I still don’t quite
see what’s behind it, though. If Dancy steals Saber beef an’ sells
it that’s easy to figger: he needs money.’

‘Mebbe Randy Gunnison needs
money, too,’ suggested Shorty. ‘He shore gambles heavy.’

‘Could be,’ admitted Green.
‘But I figger his old man’d bail him out. Anyway, puttin’ the blame
on the homesteaders could on’y lead to big trouble. It looks like
Dancy an’ Gunnison was aimin’ to start range war trouble here, an’
get them nesters off the land they’re on. But why?’

The old man shook his head.
‘Beats me, Jim. I can tell yu one thing: they ain’t no gold nor
silver in them hills. I been over ever’ foot o’ them. Not a
smidgen’ anyplace.’

They talked for a long while in the
flickering lamplight. The old man started reminiscing about the old
days in this territory, when a lone white man was easy prey for the
Apaches who roamed the hills. He had come out searching for gold or
silver as a young man, fallen in love with the country, and
stayed.

‘Them bucks near took my
hair one time or two,’ he told Sudden, ‘but I allus foxed ’em.
Figgered I’d find that pot o’ gold one day. Reckon I will yet.
She’s up in these mountains someplace.’