Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 03 - The Marshal of Lawless(1933) (34 page)

 
          
Judgment
afore then, an’ you’ll go there through the loop of a rope.” He looked at the
cowpuncher curiously. “Why didn’t vu keep a-travellin’?”

 
          
“Never
was scared of a dawg yet—specially a yellow one—so I came back,” the marshal
drawled, and then the humour died out of his face and he said sternly, “Put
yore cards on the table, Raven; I’m seem’ yu.”

 
          
The
half-breed grew livid at the taunt, but he did not reply at once; he was
watching the door. Soon
came
a scurry of hoofs
outside, and a moment later Strade walked in. As though he had waited for this,
Raven rose.

 
          
“Glad
to see yu, sheriff; come right up,” he called, and pointed to a seat on the
platform.

 
          
Strade
cast an appraising look at the audience and dropped on a bench beside Andy.
“I’ll do very well here,” he said.

 
          
“Please
yoreself,” the saloonkeeper replied. “I got news for yu.” He turned to Green.

 
          
“Where
was yu the day the stage was held up?”

 
          
“In yore bar, drinkin’ the rotgut yu call whisky.”

 
          
“An’
where was yore side-kicker, Barsay?”

 
          
“Can’t tell yu.
I met him for the first time the day after.”

 
          
Pete
spoke for himself. “I was in Lawless too, swallerin’ hocussed hooch at
Miguel’s,” he explained.

 
          
Raven’s
face took on a heavy sneer. “Miguel says he never seen yu till the time yu
demanded money an’ Green blew in with a gun an’ forced him to pay it.”

 
          
“Then
Miguel’s as big a liar as he looks,” Pete retorted. “If yo’re aimin’ to pin
that hold-up on to me, I gotta remind yu that I ain’t a bit like the fella the
driver described.”

 
          
“Huh!
A mask an’ hoss make a lot o’ difference, an’ I reckon Eames was some
flustered.

 
          
Pardoe
here was one o’ the passengers an’ he says it might ‘a’ bin yu—in fact, he
thinks it was.”

 
          
“An’
Pardoe might be a truthful man, but in fact I don’t think he is,” Pete
parodied.

 
          
“Well,
we’ll let that ride for a spell,” the half-breed resumed. “Where was yu when
Bordene was shot, Green?”

 
          
“Ridin’ in from the direction o’ yore ranch.”

 
          
“What
were yu doin’ out there?”

 
          
“Lookin’
for steers I suspected yu o’ stealin’,”
came
the
instant retort.

 
          
Someone
laughed; all the men present had not benefited by the saloonkeeper’s generosity
over the bank’s debts. Raven’s face was wooden.

 
          
“An’
yu knew Bordene was carryin’ cash—yu saw him
come
outa
the bank.”

 
          
“He
mighta been payin’ in,” Andy pointed out.

 
          
“Yu
shut yore yap,” the saloonkeeper snapped. “Yu can talk later. I’m doin’ this.”

 
          
“I’ll
speak when I please. I ain’t takin’ orders from yu, Raven, an’ that’s
whatever,” the rancher replied.

 
          
“Yu’ll
take ‘em when yu step off the Box B,” the half-breed reminded him, and then, to
Green, “Leeson saw a rider on a black horse near the Old Mine ‘bout the hour
the killin’ musta took place.”

 
          
“Useful
fella, Leeson,” the marshal said. “Has he just remembered it?”

 
          
“He
told me at the time. I kept it quiet—for reasons o’ my own.”

 
          
“I
can guess ‘em. Well, there’s the hold-up an’ the bumpin’ off o’ Bordene all
nicely doped out.
Yu goin’ to saddle me with the bank robbery
too?”

 
          
The
saloonkeeper laughed hoarsely as he replied, “Yu’ve said it. What was yu doin’
that night?”

 
          
“Watchin’
yore men steal Double S steers,” came the cool response.

 
          
The
smiles the answer brought deepened the scowl on the questioner’s face. “Likely
story that, when I saw you sneakin’ outa Lawless after midnight,” he sneered.
“That black o’ yores is plenty outstanding.”

 
          
It
was Green’s turn to laugh. “Shore is, if yu saw him that night,” he said.
“Nigger was in the Box B corral; I rode a paint hoss I borrowed from Andy.”

 
          
If
Raven was disconcerted he did not show it. “Mebbe I was mistook about the
hoss—there warn’t much light—but it was yu right enough, I’ll swear to that,”
he said.

 
          
“Which,
of course, convinces everybody,” Green said satirically, but conscious that he
spoke little more than the truth. For he knew that, up to now, Raven was
winning. He was well aware of his danger. The flimsiest evidence could be made
damning to unagile minds, and the resultant action would be swift and terrible.

 
          
Raven,
studying his audience with cunning eyes, decided that the moment had come for
his final blow. He saw Strade stand up, and raised a warning hand.

 
          
“Hold
on, sheriff, in case yu say somethin’ yu might be sorry for,” he called out. “I
got one more card to play.” He bent forward, one finger of his yellow,
claw-like hand stabbing the air in the direction of the marshal. “This fella
calls hisself Green, but in Texas he’s better known as Sudden, an’ he can’t
deny it.”

 
          
Oaths
and gasps of astonishment greeted the announcement, and all eyes were turned on
the man whose reckless courage and deadly gun-play had already made his name
known throughout the South-west. Necks were craned to see one who had been a
familiar figure to most of them for many weeks. Somehow this long-limbed,
lean-faced, confident young man did not suggest a noted desperado, and they
waited breathlessly for his reply.

 
          
“I
ain’t denyin’ it,” he said quietly.

 
          
Raven
looked round triumphantly. “I reckon that settles it,” he said. “Yo’re a cool
cuss, Sudden; most fellas, after wipin’ out Tony Sarel, lootin’ the Sweetwater
bank, an’ holdin’ up Sands would ‘a’ scratched gravel, but yo’re a hawg. A
right smart play gettin’ yoreself made marshal—I gotta hand it to yu; it was a
good joke on the town an’”—his voice was acrid—“we’re all laughin’ at it.”

 
          
“Like
hell we are,”
came
a surly growl from one of the
listeners.

 
          
“Well,
if Lawless don’t feel amused, Sweetwater will,” the half-breed went on. “
Specially
when it learns that its respected sheriff has been
hobnobbin’ with the very man he’s been scourin’ the country for.”

 
          
Strade
sprang to his feet. “Hold yore hosses, Raven,” he cried. “Yo’re travellin’ wide
o’ the trail.” He waved a hand towards Green. “I’ve knowed who this man is
pretty nigh since yu appointed him as marshal.”

 
          
This
admission provided almost as big a sensation as the announcement of Green’s
identity. Strade waited calmly until the incredulous chorus of curses and
ejaculations had died down. Raven was the first to speak.

 
          
“Yu
knew?” he shouted. “Why in hell didn’t yu arrest him?”

 
          
“When
I want yu to tell me my business I’ll shore ask yu, Raven,” the sheriff replied
tersely. “Green come to me an’ explained who he was an’ why he happened to be
in these parts.

 
          
Afterwards
I checked up on what he told me an’ found it was correct. I’m admittin’ he has
a hard reputation, but he got some of it as a deputy-sheriff in the service o’
Governor Bleke, an’ more was plastered on him like it has been here, which is
what.
brought
him. He warn’t around when the
Sweetwater plays was pulled off.”

 
          
“Yu
mean he didn’t show up till after,” Raven sneered. “What about his pardner,
Barsay? Yu checked up on him too?”

 
          
“No,
I ain’t,” Strade had to confess. “Green told me he only met him the day he was
made marshal.”

 
          
Ironic
cheers greeted the remark, and it was easy to see that the sheriff’s defence
had produced little effect. Green realized that his reputation was likely to
cost him his life. Some of the better
type of citizen were
now regarding him dubiously, and a whispered argument was going on among the
cowboys from the two ranches. Then the voice of Rusty rang out with startling
distinctness:

 
          
“I
don’t care if he’s the Devil hisself, he’s a man, an’ I’m backin’ his play agin
that squaw’s pup on the platform.”

 
          
The
saloonkeeper’s cruel lips tightened at the insult and his voice was thick with
passion when he replied: “Yappin’ curs never did bother me. Well, boys, yu’ve
heard my side an’ Strade’s.

 
          
What
yu goin’ to do about it?”

 
          
“Hang
the bushwhackin’ thief an’ send his pardner along for company,” came from
Leeson’s direction. “Where’s the sense in all this chatter?”

 
          
Raven’s
lips twisted in a
Satanic
smile. “We gotta be fair,”
he purred. “All in favour o’ swingin’ Sudden an’ his accomplice hold up the
left hand.”

 
          
The
result was what he expected, fully three-quarters of those present hoisting
their hands. No counting was necessary.

 
          
“Reckon
that fixes it,” the half-breed said. “Sudden, yu ain’t as popular as I thought
yu was.” He turned to the new officer and there was more than a touch of malice
in his tone as he said: “Marshal, do yore duty.”

 
          
The
order fell upon Pardoe like a thunderbolt, and his puny soul shrivelled within
him as he realized what it meant. He was to arrest and hang Sudden, and there
he was, only a few yards away, his thumbs hooked in his belt in close proximity
to the smooth butts of the guns he could use with such speed and accuracy.
Despite the danger he was in, the gunman’s narrowed eyes twinkled with
mischievous mirth at the new marshal’s predicament, and Pardoe inwardly cursed
his own ambition. To fall down on his first job would be fatal to his
prospects, but—he wanted to live. His appealing look at Raven proved abortive,
for the half-breed was enjoying himself in his peculiar fashion—he had put a
white man in an awkward position. Succour came from an unexpected quarter; it
was Green who broke the silence:

 
          
“Before
The Parson officiates at his own funeral, I’ve got’ somethin’ to say,” he
began.

 
          
A
murmur of impatience ran round the room; there were loud imprecations and jeers
from men whose minds were already made up. The eyes of the condemned man were
chilled steel, his jaw firmed, and his lounging figure became instinct with
purpose. Although they saw no movement, a gun seemed to leap into his right
hand; before its menacing muzzle the murmurs died down.

 
          
“Yu
listened to
Raven
pretty patient, an’ I’m aimin’ to
say my piece without interruption,” the wielder of the weapon said sardonically.
“What Strade told yu about me is true. I’m Sudden, but I ain’t the man who’s
been operatin’ round here. I came to search out that fella an’—I think I’ve
found him.”

 
          
He
paused for a moment, his gaze travelling over the faces before him. Most of them
expressed an amused incredulity, but not one ventured to voice it. The keen,
alert glance and levelled gun kept them silent and still. By concerted action
they could overwhelm him, but it would mean death to many, and no man of them
was prepared to die.
for
the half-breed. Raven knew
this, and conscious too that the threatening gun never moved far from his own
breast, he sat down.