Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 08 - Sudden Takes The Trail(1940) (14 page)

 
          
“Why
didn’t he come to me?”

 
          
“He
was meanin’ to, but when you come in, he
thought ”

 
          
“Yu
could buy my silence, huh? Well, it’s a fine story; I didn’t guess Dutch had
that much imagination. However, I’m sayin’ nothin’ to yore employer, on one
condition, that yu keep clear o’ that dive from now on; mixin’ with Dutch an’
his like will on’y land yu in the penitentiary—or worse.”

 
          
“I’ll
promise,” Evans replied. “But marshal, I ain’t lyin’ about what Dutch told me,
an’ I’m certain he meant it. He said he hadn’t
no
quarrel with the Bar O, an’ didn’t want to see strangers put one over on ‘em.”
Sudden returned to his quarters in a thoughtful frame of mind. The boy’s
parting words had been spoken earnestly, but he could not conceive a member of
Jake’s ruffianly crew being anxious to prevent disaster befalling Owen’s ranch,
even though the blow was to come from outsiders. Had the fellow fallen out with
his friends and turned traitor? That was possible, but unlikely, since Dutch appeared
to have nothing to gain. Or was it, after all, a mere fabrication, concocted by
Evans, under the spur of necessity?

 
          
“Damn
it, anyway yu look, it don’t make sense,” was the conclusion of his
meditations.

 
          
SUDDEN,
rising with his problem still unsolved, took Dave and Sloppy into his
confidence over the morning meal. The pair looked at him in puzzled
bewilderment.

 
          
“What’s
yore trouble?” the younger man asked. “There ain’t but one thing we can do:
take a dozen o’ the boys to the Bar O an’ give them cattle-thieves a real big
surprise. Ain’t that yore notion too, Sloppy?”

 
          
“Shore
looks thataway,” the little man agreed. “But …” He paused, his speculative gaze
on the marshal.

 
          
“That’s
the snag—but,” Sudden said. “Every way I figure, I run up against it. The
obvious move ain’t allus the right one. Dutch don’t like me none a-tall; why
should he put me wise when he’d ruther I fell down on my job?” His companions
could find no answer to this, and he supplied one himself:

 
          
“It
might be that he just wants to make a fool o’ me. Well, I’m stayin’ put.”

 
          
“Yu
won’t help the Bar O?” Dave said earnestly. “Damn it, Jim, we owe them that.”

 
          
“I
know, but I don’t think they’ll need us. I’ll ride over myself an’ warn ‘em to
be on the look-out. It ain’t
no
use arguin’, boy; I’ve
got a hunch an’ I’m playin’ it, right or wrong.” Masters shook his head,
unconvinced, but Sloppy appeared to be satisfied—the marshal’s word was his
law. Together they walked up the street.

 
          
“I
don’t like it,” Dave remarked. “It’ll seem we’ve run out on Owen.”

 
          
“Jim’s
got savvy,” was all the consolation he received. They found the Widow busy and
cheerful. She thanked the deputy very prettily, and excused her cousin.

 
          
“He
had been drinking,” she said. “Men are not responsible then.”

 
          
“It’s
mighty hard to figure him a close relation o’ yores,” Dave remarked.

 
          
“He’s
scarcely that,” she corrected, and with a smile, “but he was certainly too
close yesterday.” The allusion brought a swift frown to the cowboy’s face. “If
he pesters yu again there’s liable to be
a bereavement
in yore family,” he told her.

 
          
Meanwhile,
the marshal was on his way to the Bar O. He found the owner just about to set
out.

 
          
“Step
inside,” he invited. “I guess you didn’t come just for the pleasure o’ seein’
me.”

 
          
“Why not?”
Sudden smiled. “Allasame, I’ve news—of a kind.”
Seated in one of the big chairs, he told what he had learned. Owen received the
narrative in silence. Only when the marshal came to his own proposed inaction
did he speak:

 
          
“You
ain’t believin’
it?”

 
          
“No,
I suspect a trap—to get me outa town. “
What for?”

 
          
“I
wish yu could tell me. Dave is
sore,
he reckons I’m
playin’ it low down on yu.”

 
          
“
Rubbish !
” the rancher said. “You ain’t paid to safeguard
the Bar O; that’s up to us an’ I guess we can do it, but any suggestion will be
welcome.”

 
          
“Have
four or five men, spaced out, watching yore western line to give warnin’—they’ll
come in from that side. The rest o’ yu can wait here. Keep a man with a fast
hoss ready to head for Welcome. I expect yu can stand ‘em off till we make it.
Got plenty gun-fodder?”

 
          
“You
bet, an’ the ranch-house is loop-holed,” Owen replied. “That’s a good plan,
Jim; I’ll fix it so. I’m obliged.”

 
          
“
Shucks !
If yu do get a visit, I’ll feel pretty mean. By the
way, I wouldn’t pick Pinto as a sentry.”

 
          
“Still
suspectin’ him?”

 
          
“I
got nothin’ to go on, but there it is.”

 
          
“Seen
any more o’ Sark?” Owen asked.

 
          
“He
was in yestiddy, an’ didn’t add any to his popularity.” The rancher listened
with an expression of growing disgust to the eating-house incident. “Good for
Dave,” he commented.

 
          
“But
he’ll have to watch out; Jesse ain’t particular how he pays debts.”

 
          
“He’d
better settle mine first,” Sudden said, with a wintry smile, and,
inconsequently,

 
          
“Was
Amos raisin’ cattle around here before yu?”

 
          
“Some
years earlier, but there was plenty range, an’ we never had any differences.”

 
          
“Yu
chose a nice convenient brand—for him, didn’t yu?”

 
          
“How so?”

 
          
“Lengthen
yore bar, put an O at the near end, an’ yu have a passable Dumbbell.”

 
          
“That’s
so,” Owen admitted. “Now I’ll tell you somethin’. Amos Sark’s brand was Circle
S, but when Jesse took over he made the change. I didn’t give it a
thought,
we’ve never suffered from brand-blottin’ in these
parts.”

 
          
“Mebbe,
but you’re losin’ cattle, an’ it’s worth bearin’ in mind.”

 
          
“I’ll
warn the boys to keep their eyes open.”

 
          
“Some
of ‘em,” Sudden advised. “There ain’t allus safety in numbers.”

 
          
“I’ll
respect yore prejudices, marshal,” the rancher replied. “I allow Pinto ain’t a
young gal’s dream o’ manly beauty, but hard looks don’t mean much.”

 
          
“Yu
didn’t see the one he gave me,” Sudden smiled.

 
          
Satisfied
that he had done all he could, he set out for home. With but a mile to go, he
noticed horse-tracks branching away to the left of the trail he was travelling.
Few in number
, they showed that a rider had come and
gone several times. Was this the way Dutch slipped into the settlement? He had
no means of knowing, but decided to find out where they led to.

 
          
This
was simple enough in the open, for the unknown had made no attempt to conceal
his passage, but presently the tracker found
himself
amongst dense brush, and the task became harder. But Sudden could read signs
like an Indian; a faint indentation, a dislodged stone, or a bruised leaf were
plain as print to his keen eye. The sun told that he was travelling south-west
and must, in time, arrive near the spot where they had encountered the
rustlers. So he was not surprised when, after an hour of painstaking labour, he
emerged from a shallow ravine to hear the roar of tumbling water. Two hundred
yards distant was a double line of willows, and in front an arid stretch of
gravel on which the tracks were utterly lost. He waded the creek and searched
the far bank, but without success. Then he rode south along The Step, noting
how the wall of rock dwindled in height until it was possible to cross.

 
          
“If
they come, it’ll likely be this way,” he mused. “Well, Nig, what we want now is
a shorter trail to Welcome.” The afternoon was well advanced when he returned;
he had found his trail and memorized every salient feature.

 
          
Tired
and hungry, he found his deputy in a fractious mood. “What’s John Owen thinkin’
of us?” he inquired.

 
          
“He
said I was doin’ the right thing.”

 
          
“Seems to ‘a’ taken yu a long time to convince him.”

 
          
“Oh,
we had to make arrangements, an’ on the way back I had a look around.”

 
          
“See
any doubtful characters?” Dave asked sarcastically.

 
          
“Not
till I got here,” his friend grinned, and then, “Let’s go an’ lift a few honest
dollars from Nippert—he’s got too many, but first, we’ll saddle the hosses.”

 
          
“Why
for?”

 
          
“To
keep their backs warm, o’ course,” Sudden laughed. “Also, if anythin’ breaks
loose tonight we might need ‘em in a hurry. Owen may send word.” At the Red
Light, Sudden told the saloon-keeper what he had done and certain citizens were
warned to be ready for instant action.

 
          
When,
after an evening of modest poker, the marshal and his deputy retired to their
quarters, they did not undress.

 
          
Two
hours after midnight found Welcome asleep. There was no moon, and the
indifferent light of the stars showed the buildings only as deeper blobs in the
general darkness. Then, into this silent stillness, entering from the eastern
end of the
town,
came the shadows of mounted men,
moving slowly, cautiously, one behind the other. Eight in
number
,
they rode noiselessly along the street, the soft sand deadening the footfalls
of their steeds. Each had a bandana, slitted for the eyes, covering his
features. When they reached the bank, four of them got down and stepped swiftly
to the side door. The others took charge of the horses, and sat waiting, rifles
across their knees. The leader rapped softly. After a pause, a voice from
inside asked:

 
          
“Who
is it?”

 
          
“Open
up, Bob,” the stranger replied gruffly. “I’m from Nippert.” Apparently the
answer was satisfactory; bolts were withdrawn and through the slightly-opened
door came the light of a flickering candle; behind it, the peering face of the
banker. At the sight of the masked man, he made a desperate attempt to close
the door again, but the other had flung his weight upon it, levelling his
revolver at the same moment.

 
          
“One
yap’ll be yore last,” he warned. “Stan’
back,
or …”
Morley knew that he was helpless; his nearest neighbours were thirty yards distant,
and would be asleep. He obeyed, and watched the four bandits file in, closing
the door behind them. Then the leader turned to him.

 
          
“Unlock
yore safe,” he said. “An’ be spry about it.” This was too much. The banker was
an old man, but an obstinate one, with a sense of duty to those who had trusted
him; these scoundrels might rob him, but he was not going to make it easier.