Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937) (27 page)

 
          
She
stared at him with wide eyes. “You—had—Wild Bill—killed?” she gasped.

 
          
“And
why not?” he asked coolly. “He was in my way. I don’t permit interference—from
anyone. When I see a clod like Stark, revelling in riches, while 1, his
superior in every way else, have to toady to him, I come near to madness; I
could kill—and laugh.” And indeed, there was a momentary gleam of it in the
glance he bent on her. Once or twice recently he had so betrayed himself, and,
with all her hardihood, it brought a shiver.

 
          
“Well,
I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “God knows I’m sick enough of poverty.”

 
          
In
the morning Lesurge had a talk with the prospector; the situation brooked no
more delay.

 
          
“Time
we went after the mine,” he said. “And since that memory of yours is still
asleep, we must get Green to guide us. He can bring Mason if he likes—after the
plucky way he took the coach through I’ll be glad to have them.”

 
          
“That’s
good hearin’, Paul,” Snowy replied. “I’ve a notion Jim thinks you don’t cotton
to him.”

 
          
“Nonsense,
man, how could that be after the service he rendered my sister?” Paul said
heartily. “I was a little peeved to find my gold had turned to lead, but I’ve
cleared that up.”

 
          
“How many men you takin’?”

 
          
“Haven’t decided yet.
I’ll see to that; we’ll need to be
pretty strong. You and Mary seem to get along all right.”

 
          
“She’s
a nice gal,” the old man said.

 
          
“No
sign of suspicion?”

 
          
“Nary a mite.
We fit in so natural I sometimes
forget ”

 
          
“That’s
the one thing you must always remember—it would be fatal to our plans, and she’d
never forgive you,” Paul urged. “No, I reckon she wouldn’t,” Snowy agreed. “Allasame,
her real uncle couldn’t do more for her than I’m agoin’ to.”

 
          
“Of
course not,” Paul replied, and hid his smile. “Now
you ,go
after Green. 1
have
to see Stark.” The saloonkeeper
did not receive him quite as cordially as usual, and Lesurge guessed he had
been discussed after his departure. He plunged straight into his business:

 
          
“Just looked in to tell you that I’ve solved the mystery of that
consignment, Reuben.”

 
          
“I’m
glad o’ that, Paul; it didn’t look too good.”

 
          
“It
looked rotten,” Lesurge admitted. “But it was as I guessed: I let one of my
fellows pack the stuff, which was careless of me. The damned fool had a hunch
the stage would be robbed, and took a chance.”

 
          
“What
have you done to him?” Stark asked curiously. “Nothing—he saved my life once,
so I’m in his debt,” Paul lied. “I made him disgorge, and I’ll wager he won’t
play any more such pranks on me.” He was silent for a moment. “Lora said she
enjoyed last night.”

 
          
“What
about repeatin’ the dose this evenin’?” Stark said eagerly.

 
          
“She’ll
be too busy packing.”

 
          
“The
hell you say. Ain’t leavin’ us, is she?”

 
          
“Only for a trip into the hills.”
He saw the other’s
eyebrows go up. “Oh, it’ll be safe enough—we’ll be in force. Lora is looking
forward to it.”

 
          
“I’ll
bet she is—got sand that girl,” Stark complimented. “Goin’ to search out Ducane’s
mine?”

 
          
“He
calls it his—I’ve given him a small interest,” Paul smiled.

 
          
“Wish
I could go with you but I dasn’t leave this place. It’s a devil of a tie;
sometimes I feel like sellin’ the whole shebang an’ clearin’ out.”

 
          
“Wait
till I come back, anyway,” Lesurge said. “Perhaps I’ll buy it.” Snowy found
Sudden alone in the cabin. Gerry and the others had gone to the claim, and
Jacob had accompanied them. It did not take long to explain his errand.

 
          
“1
want
for you to come, Jim,” he urged. “Things
is
gettin’ on towards a clean-up but we gotta keep the game
goin’ with that thievin’ devil for a while yet.”

 
          
“Yu
can count me in,” the puncher told him. “Lesurge has a lot to answer for. I’ve
heard he brought about Hickok’s murder.”

 
          
“More’n likely.
Berg an’ McCall was seen together ‘bout
then. Paul planned an’ Stark paid, would be my guess.”

 
          
“1f
it’s true, I’ll kill him.” The words came from between shut teeth, and the
speaker’s bleak eyes showed that it was no idle threat. Snowy thought of Lefty
Logan and would not have changed places with Lesurge for all the gold he
expected to find.

 
          
“You
don’t have to ask my permission,” he said grimly. “Jim, are those fellas you
got workin’ with you, straight?”

 
          
“Shore
they are.”

 
          
“Ain’t
pannin’ much are you?”

 
          
“Haven’t
had to charter a stagecoach yet,” Sudden smiled.

 
          
“I
reckoned not,” Snowy said. “Well, here’s my proposition; there’s enough at the
Rockin’ Stone for all of us. Take them boys to the spot an’ tell ‘em to hold on
till we come. They’ll need plenty grub an’ their rifles—Paul will have a band o’
barscourin’s with him an’ he’ll raise Cain when he learns he’s bin tricked. You
can git away from the claim without bein’ seen an’ be back yorself by the time
we’re ready to start.”

 
          
“What
about Gerry?”

 
          
“He
can come with us if he wants but I’m guessin’ he won’t,” the old man said, a
shrewd twinkle in his eye.

 
          
“We’ll
do it,” Sudden promised. “Snowy, how long
have
yu
knowed Lesurge?”

 
          
“‘Bout
the same time as you, but I know him better,”
came
the
sardonic answer. “Yes, sir, I’m wise to the dirty game he’s playin’ an’ I’m
goin’ to beat it.
Get busy, son.”
He trudged away, and
for some moments the cowboy stood gazing after the stooping, frail figure, with
its long, unkempt white hair. To-day, somehow, it had a dignity lacking before,
Jacob’s dictum anent watching the pawns recurred to his mind; Paul Lesurge
should have heard that.

 
          
Getting
his horse, he rode up to the claim. As he had fully expected, the prospector’s
offer was received with enthusiasm by the miners. They were not making a
fortune.
and
adventurers all, were willing to take a
risk. Jacob also wished to go; after his late experience, the prospect of being
left alone in Deadwood did not appeal to him.

 
          
“Yu’ll
come with me, Gerry, I guess?” Sudden said.

 
          
“Yu’d
lose at any guessin’ game,” was the reply. “I’m with the boys.” The puncher was
surprised, but he made only one comment: “The women are goin’.”

 
          
“Then
yu can be shore o’ trouble,” Gerry retorted viciously.

 
          
After
two days’ preparation, Paul and his party were ready to start on what he gave
out to be a prospecting expedition, and since—save for the women—it differed in
no way from others which left the town almost daily, it attracted little
attention. Strong, it undoubtedly was, consisting of nine men, including the
leader, with pack-mules loaded with tools and provisions.

 
          
All
the men were armed.

 
          
Sudden,
arriving outside the Lesurge cabin, found familiar faces; Fagan, Rodd, Berg,
Hank, Lem—of whose wonderful escape he had learned—and a big fellow, sitting
awkwardly on his mount, whom he recognized as Miller. The miner was eyeing him
doubtfully. Sudden rode to his side.

 
          
“How’s
the hangin’ trade?” he asked gravely.

 
          
Husky
cleared his throat, spat, and said reproachfully, “You didn’t oughta hold that
agin me—it shorely looked like you was our meat. I was just as pleased the way
it
come
out.” The cowboy realized that he was in
earnest, and with a laugh shoved out a fist. “I was on’y joshin’,” he
confessed.

 
          
Husky’s
hand, like a bear’s paw, gripped his, and a broad grin betrayed his relief.

 
          
“How come yu in this?”
Sudden asked.

 
          
“Well,
my claim done petered out an’ my luck follered suit,” Husky explained. “Took a
whirl at the wheel las’ night an’ went bust. Stark speaks for me an’ here I am,
figurin’ mebbe to earn a grubstake.” He surveyed the assembled riders and
lowered his voice. “Mister Lesurge is a fine fella but he’s picked a middlin’
ornery crowd—not meanin’ any offence.” The cowboy’s eyes crinkled at the
corners. “One look at ‘em is shore a-plenty,” he admitted.

 
          
“Now
then gals
is
different—purty as pictures.” Husky went
on. “Hell!
here’s
one a-coming’. See you later—pardner.”
He beat a hasty retreat as Lora Lesurge trotted up, her eyes alight with
excitement.

 
          
“Morning—Jim,”
she greeted, in her rich low voice. “So we are to be fellow wanderers in the
wilds again.”

 
          
“Seems so,” he replied, his gaze travelling from the turned-up soft
hat to the trim spurred heels.
“I’m hopin’ yore brother has provided yu
with a good pony—them boots ain’t
no
use for walkin’.”

 
          
“I’m
not proposing to walk—this time,” she retorted. “If my mount fails 1 shall come
to you; I’m sure Nigger could carry both of us,” she finished roguishly.

 
          
“‘Could’
an’ would’ come outa different corrals,” Sudden said dryly. “Mornin’, Miss Ducane.
Well, here’s good-bye to Deadwood—for a spell.”

 
          
“Forever,
would please me more,” Lora remarked, and her tone told that she meant it.

 
          
She
ranged herself by his side as they set out. Snowy followed, perched
precariously on the back of Jezebel and brandishing a stout stick.

 
          
The
animal turned a spiteful eye upon him, got a smart clip over the bony nose,
dropped its head and stepped demurely forward. The rider emitted a wheezy whoop
of triumph.

 
          
“The
magic wand is still a-workin’, Jim,” he called out.

 
          
Mary
found herself paired with Paul, and the rest of the party, leading the
pack-beasts, brought up the rear. They soon left the timber-stripped slopes of
the gulch behind and headed into the unknown.

 
          
At
Snowy’s suggestion, the cowboy was taking them by a new and more roundabout
route. “No
sense in lettin’ Lesurge know
how near he
is to Deadwood,” the old man had argued.

 
          
“He
might, at a pinch, send for help if it looks like comin’ to a scrap; as it is,
we’ll be even-matched.” Sudden knew the direction in which the mine lay, and as
a plainsman, that was all he needed, but the savage nature of the country made
straightforward progress impossible, and more than doubled the actual distance.

 
          
Presently
they paused on the crest of a steep ridge which afforded a wider view. Grey,
rock-crowned hills, black forests of fir, green park-like valleys, and deep,
precipitous gullies stretched before them in unending succession. For all the
blazing sun, there was
a keenness
in the air and the
aromatic tang of the pines was in their nostrils. As they slipped and slithered
down the slope of the ridge, Lora said abruptly: