Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (33 page)

 
          
“Where
is—Mister Drait?’ she asked.

 
          
“Well
on the road to Midway, by this. Didn’t he tell yu?’ Sudden replied. He saw she
did not understand, and went on to tell of the arrest and subsequent escape,
passing lightly over his own part in the latter. She listened with mounting
colour, and then cried indignantly:

 
          
“You
let him go?’

 
          
He
smothered a smile. “Nick is full-growed, an’ when he decides on somethin’ he’s
mighty liable to do it. About yore cattle…’

 
          
“Oh,
damn the cattle,’ she burst out, and then, “I’m sorry. You were saying?’

 
          
“He
didn’t steal ‘em, on’y got ‘em back from the fella who did, an’ fetched the
herd here for safety, an’ meanin’ to surprise Yu-

 
          
‘Then
you and Yorky did find them?’

 
          
Sudden’s
grin was entirely unrepentant. “Yeah, but it would ‘a’ spoiled Nick’s plan to
let on.’

 
          
“I
still don’t see any reason for returning to prison.’”He has to face the music.
To run would admit guilt.’ “I see that now,’ she said. “Who is bringing the
charge?’
“The sheriff, backed by Cullin.’

 
          
“But
surely, what you have discovered about the wretch….’ She paused as the puncher
shook his head.

 
          
“Rustlin’
is a capital crime in a cattle country,’ he told her. “What Cullin is, or has
done, won’t explain away yore steers in Shadow Valley.’

 
          
“But
there is an explanation,’ she persisted. “His men—’ “are accomplices,’ he
reminded. “Besides, they’d be expected to swear black was white to get their
boss outa trouble, an’ they would.’

 
          
“What
had kidnapping me to do with it?’

 
          
“They
feared yu might ‘a’ stood up for him.’

 
          
“Might?’
she repeated. “Of course I would—and will. When does this infamous trial take
place?’

 
          
“In
the mornin’, I’d say; they won’t lose time. We’ll all be there.’ Then,
inconsequently, “Nick’s a real fella, but terrible unseein’—times.’

 
          
His
kind but probing gaze confused her. “Thank you, Jim,’ she murmured. “We must
save him.’

 
          
“Shore
we will,’ he replied. “Mebbe we got a card they don’t know about.’

 
          
The
silver light of the moon which softened the crudities of Midway, only revealed
the identity of the late visitor as he rode nonchalantly along the one street.
Citizens stood still, stared, and rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The prisoner
who had
effected
a sensational escape from the
calaboose was the last person they dreamed of seeing. To a man they followed
dumbly, and when—indifferent to the excitement he was causing—he got down at
Merker’s and stopped in, they crowded after him. Within, the paralysing
amazement was repeated, and the saloonkeeper, who was serving a customer,
nearly dropped the bottle.

 
          
“Goda’mighty,
Nick,
are
you mad?’ he asked, as the nester ranged
himself at the bar.

 
          
“No, on’y thirsty.’
He helped himself. “Where’s Stinker?’ “Just
comin’ in,’ was the disgusted reply.

 
          
The
sheriff was pushing his way importantly through the throng, gun out, and an
unholy expression of joy on his face. “So it’s true,’ he muttered, for he had
doubted the news. “Stick ‘em up, Drait.’

 
          
The
nester laughed. “Cut out the play-actin’, Stinker. I’m not heeled an’ came to
find you. I want five hundred bucks.’ The sheriff’s bloodshot eyes bulged.
‘Whaffor?’ he asked.

 
          
“Bringin’
myself in—alive, which is a disappointment, I know, but it had to be that way.
Who put up that reward—the town or—Cullin?’

 
          
“None
o’ yore business,’ Camort growled uneasily.

 
          
Pilch
pounced on him. “Mebbe, out it’s our business if yo’re spendin’ money to git
back prisoners you’ve let go, an’ we wanta know.’

 
          
The
sheriff was cornered, and knew it. “It warn’t town money,’ he admitted
sullenly. “A private citizen, who don’t want to be named—’

 
          
“Cullin’s
modesty is well known,’ the nester broke in.

 
          
The
sheriff flared up. “You oughta talk, robbin’ a young gal under cover o’
purtendin’ to help her.’

 
          
This
time he scored, and Nick was aware of hard looks. He clenched his fists in an
effort to fight down the fury surging within him. Then he spoke:

 
          
“Stinker,
if I didn’t know yo’re just achin’ for an excuse to pour lead into me, I’d
shake yore teeth out an’ cram yore lyin’ tongue down yore throat,’ he said. “Now,
I’ve had a busy day, an’ need sleep.’

 
          
The
officer reluctantly emptied his glass and signed to his deputies. “If he flaps
a wing, drill him, good an’ plenty,’ he ordered.

 
          
“I’ll
come an’ tuck you up, Nick,’ Pilch grinned, and to the sheriff. “If there’s any
funny business, you’ll be tried in the mornin’—by yore Maker.’

 
          
Having
seen the prisoner duly incarcerated, and posted guards at door and window,
Camort called on the Judge, who was—surprisingly at that hour—sober. He
listened to the news with a dubious air.

 
          
“Surrendered after getting clear away.
He must have an
answer to the charge.’

 
          
“
It’s
yore affair to see he don’t have any such thing,’ the
sheriff said. “Cullin—

 
          
The
Judge held up a hand. “Listen: my affair is to administer the Law. Cullin, to
me, is just another man, and I’m weary of his name; don’t mention it again.’

 
          
The
visitor gaped; decidedly the Judge was sober, dangerously so. “I thought’ he
began.

 
          
“Don’t
over-tax my credulity,’ Towler said cuttingly. “I will hear the case in the
morning, and hope the accused will not be missing.’ Camort told of his
precautions. “Better have someone to watch over your own slumbers,’
came
the acid comment. “The girl will be absent.’

 
          
“That’s
so.’ “Unavoidably detained, one might say.’

 
          
The
other agreed, and came away somewhat perturbed. He comforted himself with the
reflection that Cullin would soon bring him to heel.

 
          
THE
court-room was filling rapidly when the Shadow Valley party arrived. The hum of
conversation increased as they marched up the middle gangway, and many glances
of admiration were directed to the girl. Pale, out with head high, she appeared
indifferent to the interest their entry occasioned. When they reached the front
row of seats, which was empty, Wall-eye came bustling up.

 
          
‘Them’s
for the witnesses,’ he warned.

 
          
“I
guessed as much,’ the puncher said curtly, and sat down. The deputy decided not
to argue.’

 
          
Vasco,
his foreman, and three riders were a couple of rows behind, and Sudden went to
speak with them.

 
          
“What’n
hell was Nick thinkin’ of to come back?’ the rancher queried.

 
          
“On’y
the guilty run away, ol’-timer,’ Sudden smiled. “He’ll make the grade.’

 
          
“Shore
hope so, but if anythin’ goes awry, there’s five here you can depend on—to the
limit.’

 
          
“That’s
good listenin’. I’m not forgettin’ it.’

 
          
“
Pickles !
You did me a service. We ain’t catched Bull yet,
but he’s keepin’ his
han’s
off.’

 
          
“Been
busy other ways, but I’ve a notion he won’t trouble yu no more.’

 
          
“Which’ll suit me fine.
So that’s the S P heiress? She
certainly rests the eyes.’

 
          
“I’ll
tell her yu said so,’ Sudden grinned.

 
          
“Don’t
you, or I’ll light out,’ Vasco threatened. “Hello, there’s Greg, an’ he’s
lookin’ kind o’ surprised.’

 
          
He
was right, but “surprised’ was a pallid description of the Big C man’s state.
He had seated himself at the end of the front row, near the jury-box, before he
saw the girl; he started to rise, only to sink down again under the freezing
glance she gave him. How did she come to ‘be here? A qualm of uneasiness shot
through him.

 
          
The
appearance of the accused, escorted by the sheriff, was the next incident. He
nodded to his friends as he passed, stepped unconcernedly into the dock, and
surveyed the jury critically.

 
          
The
Judge slouched in, the jury was sworn, and Towler turned to the dock.

 
          
“Nicholas
Drait, you are charged with stealing stock from the S P ranch,’ he said. “Do
you plead guilty or not guilty?’ “Which would you advise, Judge?’
Seriously.

 
          
“I’m
not here to give you advice,’ Towler snapped.

 
          
“I
keep forgettin’ yo’re on the other side,’ Nick said ruefully, a naive
expression which brought titters from the audience, and made the Judge angry.

 
          
“I
am not on either side, sir,’ he thundered. “And let me warn you that
facetiousness will not help your case. Answer my question.’

 
          
“When
in doubt, toss for it.’ Nick spun a coin and studied the result anxiously. “Not
guilty. Well, what’s fairer’n that?
D’you mind tellin’ me
who’s bringin’ the charge?’

 
          
The
Judge did not see the sheriff’s negative headshake. “Naturally the
person
who was robbed,’ he replied drily. Mary stood up. “I
am that person, and I know nothing of it.’

 
          
Towler
frowned; he had been misled again. He referred to a paper. “My information is
that you lodged a complaint with the sheriff and asked for action to be taken.’

 
          
“I
have neither spoken nor written to him at any time.’

 
          
The
Judge’s silence told Camort he must get out of the difficulty himself. “The
message came by another party, an’ warn’t written,’ he explained.

 
          
The
name, please,’ Mary insisted.

 
          
The
sheriff hesitated, but there was no alternative; for once in his tortuous
career he must tell the truth.
“Gregory Cullin.’

 
          
Her
contemptuous gaze travelled to where the rancher sat. “Mister Cullin had no
authority whatever to bring a message from me.’

 
          
The
rancher rose. “Miss Darrell told me of her loss an’ expressed the view that no
punishment was too severe for a rustler. I believed I was carryin’ out her
wishes in gettin’ the sheriff to move in the matter,’ he said heavily.

 
          
Mary
ignored him. “It is admitted I did not authorise this—this—’