Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 09 - Sudden Makes War(1942) (37 page)

 
          
He
had picked up the still quivering body.
“A biggish one.
Would you like his rattles?”

 
          
“Heavens,
no, I hate snakes,” she shuddered. “They are of no use, surely.”

 
          
“The buttons?
In Virginia the niggers make bracelets of ‘em;
they’re claimed to keep off evil.”

 
          
“I
should have brought one when I came to Arizona,” she said bitterly.

 
          
When
they continued the journey, he went in front, “to deal with varmints,” but they
encountered no more, and presently reached a level ledge of short grass. By
this time the first slanting rays of the sun were splitting the mist into
filmy, opalescent veils which rose and melted away, revealing that they were on
one side of a deep canyon, the walls of which dropped sheer to a tumbling,
riotous river hundreds of feet below. It seemed likely to Sudden that the
stream they had jumped in the tunnel might empty itself into this one, so the
broken body of Rattray could be returning to Rainbow.

 
          
“Where
now?” the girl asked.

 
          
“We’ll
follow the canyon, east, an’ get around this hump,” he decided. “Then a twist
to the north should fetch us somewhere near the cavern.”

 
          
They
tramped on, pausing only to drink at a rivulet which crossed their path. But
the hump was succeeded by more high ground, steep and brush-clad, an
insuperable barrier which pinned them to the canyon-side. They spoke little,
but once or twice, to take her mind from the fatigue he knew she must be
enduring, the puncher remarked on the marvel of the painted walls of the gorge,
purple, green, brown, and red, brilliant beneath the burning rays of the sun,
and the grotesque pinnacled and turreted masses of grey rock which served as a
background.

 
          
“Yes,
it’s all very lovely,” she sighed, and tried to smile. “But it only proves that
even beauty can breed monotony. I’d give it all for something to eat.”

 
          
“We’ll
have breakfast right soon,” Sudden told her. “Wait here; I’ll be within call.”

 
          
He
plunged into the undergrowth. After a while she heard the crack of his
revolver, and he reappeared carrying a young rabbit. She watched interestedly
as he lit a fire, deftly skinned the animal, and toasted it on pointed twigs.
Again she was impressed with his competency. The meat proved delicious, and the
ice-cold water of a nearby rill, completed the meal.

 
          
“You
have done that before,” she complimented, as they set out again.

 
          
“Shore,”
he agreed. “
There’s
been times when I’ve had to live
on the country for days. We could have tried that rattler.” She shivered. “But
no one eats snakes.”

 
          
“Yu
ain’t never
known real hunger,” he smiled. “I’ve been
told rattlers is pretty good grub.

 
          
In
Texas the wild hawgs hunt ‘em, an’ I’ll bet they don’t do that for fun. White
men eat frawgs an’ snails, an’ pay high for the privilege.”

 
          
The
long looked-for break in the barrier appeared at last in the form of a gully.
They turned into it eagerly, but, though taking them in the right
direction,
it was not—as Sudden soon divined—the one leading
to the cave. For one thing, it was narrower, and much cumbered with boulders
and rank growth of thorn and cactus, difficult, and at times, painful, to
penetrate. Also, they had lost sight of Old Cloudy, a fact Sudden did not like.

 
          
“Take
a rest,” he said, pointing to a fiat stone. “I’ll scout around an’ see if I can
pick up a landmark.”

 
          
He
thrust through the scrub, and by the movement of the foliage she saw that he
was climbing the wall of the gully; he seemed to be made of steel. She herself,
though the food had given her new strength, was exhausted, and glad enough to
sit down. She fell to musing on the few moments of panic which had brought such
misfortune upon her, and others. One man had died horribly, and perhaps her
uncle, lacking her care,
had .
She would not think of
that. Her thoughts came back to her companion in this astounding adventure. She
hoped he would not be long, for while she still regarded him as one of the
enemy, he created a curious sense of confidence, and the prospect of facing the
wilderness alone was terrifying. Her reverie was shattered by the clink of iron
against stone, and an amazed expletive.

 
          
“My God!
It’s Beth!”

 
          
The
familiar voice brought her to her feet. Garstone was staring as though unable
to believe his own eyes. Springing from his saddle, he ran to her.

 
          
“My
dear girl, how in the world do you come to be here?” he cried. “Bundy, Miss
Trenton has returned to life.”

 
          
The
foreman, followed by Lake, rode up. “Mighty glad to see you, Miss Beth,” he
said, but there was no warmth in tone or look. “We figured we’d lost you for
good an’ all.”

 
          
“We
certainly did,” Garstone agreed. “How did you escape?”

 
          
She
gave a brief account, and concluded, “We are trying to find the cave.”

 
          
“Where
is this fellow?”

 
          
“He
went to look for a way.”

 
          
“Get
under cover, you two; we’ll nail him when he comes back,” Garstone ordered.

 
          
Too
late, the girl remembered that Green belonged to the Circle Dot. “He saved me
from death, and must not be touched,” she protested.

 
          
“He
forced you to go with him in order to drive a bargain with us.” Garstone
invented.

 
          
“Also,
he is your uncle’s foe, and therefore should be yours.”

 
          
“Does
my life mean so little to you?” she demanded.

 
          
“No,
but I am not going to let emotion blind you to the truth. That man is a killer;
in all probability it was he who wounded Zeb.”

 
          
“The
truth,” she cried. “Is it that Uncle was shot by one of his own men, and that
Red Rufe was the brother of old Mister Dover?”

 
          
“Both
are lies,” Garstone said evenly. “I see that Green has made good use of his
opportunity. You have sealed his fate.”

 
          
She
saw it was hopeless. “Where is Uncle Zeb?”

 
          
“Not
far away; Flint is taking care of him.”

 
          
Bundy
and Lake had already concealed themselves, and their leader was on the point of
doing the same when Sudden stepped from the bushes. A glance, and his guns were
out, one of them covering the Easterner.

 
          
“Tell
yore men to come out, with their paws high,” he ordered. “You have one second
to choose between that an’ hell, Garstone!”

 
          
The
eyes of the speaker were chips of blue ice, and the threatened man did not
hesitate.

 
          
He
called out, and the hidden pair emerged, biceps cuddling their ears.

 
          
“Where’s
Flint?” Sudden asked the girl.

 
          
“I’ve
not seen him,” she replied. “I’m told he is attending my uncle.”

 
          
“An’
yu believe it?”

 
          
It
was Garstone who answered. “Of course she does. Isn’t it natural that Trenton
should be with his own people?”

 
          
“Who
left him with his enemies when it suited their purpose,” was the sarcastic
rejoinder.

 
          
“Well,
Miss Trenton, yu remainin’ with yore own people?”

 
          
“Certainly.
I wish to be with my uncle.”

 
          
Sudden
nodded, and backed into the middle of the gully, his guns menacing the three
men. “I s’pose yu’ve stolen the dollars, Garstone, but don’t get too brash,
mebbe there’s another trick to be tabled yet.”

 
          
The
big fellow’s wooden face had changed. “I think, perhaps, you are right,” he
replied.

 
          
“We
want him alive, Flint.”

 
          
At
the same instant, the girl—eyes wide with dismay—uttered a warning, “Behind
you.”

 
          
Sudden
spun round in a flash, and fired. Flint, who had crept upon
him
unperceived, had his gun out and was in the act of pressing the trigger; the
bullet ploughed up the ground a few yards in front of him, and with a howl he
dropped the revolver and grabbed a smashed elbow.

 
          
The
puncher swung his weapon back on Garstone, but that astute person had moved to
Miss Trenton’s side, and he dared not risk a shot. So, with a scornful laugh,
he turned and charged at the wounded man, who, having no stomach for the
encounter, jumped away. It was an unlucky move; a gun roared and Flint went
down, a bullet in his brain. Sudden sprinted along the gully; he was not
pursued.

 
          
“Why
the devil did you shoot Flint?” Garstone asked angrily, as they gathered round
the fallen man.

 
          
“He
run into it—I was tryin’ for Green,” Bundy explained. “Damn raw work—he was a
coupla yards off,” Lake jeered. “I thought you could shoot.”

 
          
“I
can, an’ I’m ready to prove it.”
Threateningly.

 
          
The
bearded man was not to be bullied. “Right now, if you want,” he growled.

 
          
Garstone
interposed. “Cease squabbling; we’re few enough as it is.”

 
          
“Yeah,
three to divide instead o’ four,” Bundy leered.

 
          
“
Four
in place of five—Miss Trenton takes her uncle’s
share’,” the big man corrected, and the look which passed did not escape him.
“Speaking of Zeb, we can’t now leave him in the old camp; you two must fetch
him.”

 
          
“Like
hell we will,” Bundy retorted. “An’ you wait here, I s’pose?”

 
          
“No,
that would ruin our plans—we should arrive in Rainbow too late,” was the cool
reply. “Also, with that cursed cowpuncher at liberty, we may lose all we’ve
gained. Of course, if Trenton should be dead, you can catch us up.”

 
          
The
inhuman suggestion was not lost upon the pair of rogues. They did not fancy
leaving this fellow with the booty, but holding a poor opinion of his courage,
they felt confident that they could force him to keep faith. They agreed, and
Garstone rejoined the girl, who was impatiently awaiting him. As he expected,
her first question was respecting her uncle.

 
          
“The
journey was tiring him—a rest was imperative,” he explained. “Flint stayed too,
and the poor fellow was doubtless here to report when that scoundrel Green slew
him.”

 
          
“Green
fired once only, and crippled Flint’s arm,” she said. “The fatal shot came from
Bundy.”

 
          
“Is
that so?” he cried, in affected surprise. “Bundy, of course, would be aiming at
Green; Flint was unlucky. I didn’t see it; I was so concerned about you—”

 
          
“I
noticed it,” she said coldly. “You were saying?

 
          
“I
am sending the two men back to bring your uncle.”