Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) (16 page)

 
          
“Don’t
struggle, Joan,” he
panted,
his voice thick with
passion. “You are mine. One day we will reign together at the Double K, my
lovely queen.”

 
          
Frantically
she strove to free herself but without avail. The red mask was before her eyes,
the avid lips beneath it seeking her own. She wrenched her head aside and
struck with her loose hand. The blow drew an oath from her assailant.

 
          
“Damn
you,” he gritted. “I’ll—”

 
          
“Let
the lady go, right now, if yu wanta live,” a steely voice finished.

 
          
With
a start of surprise, the masked man released his captive and swung round to
face the speaker, a cowboy on a black horse. He was spinning a gun by the
trigger-guard and appeared to be deeply interested in the operation.

 
          
“Who
the hell told you to interfere?” Satan exploded.

 
          
The
cowboy looked at him. “I don’t need tellin’ to protect a woman from insult,” he
said.

 
          
“There
was no question of that,” the other snapped. “We are old friends, aren’t we,
Joan?”

 
          
The
girl ignored him. “I was very pleased to see you, Green,” she said, in a still
shaky voice.

 
          
“Better
head for the ranch, ma’am; I’ll take care this hombre don’t pester yu no more,”
Sudden advised. “Yu didn’t oughta use this part o’ the range—too many varmints
about.”

 
          
“Yes,”
she agreed, and without a glance at the masked man, rode away.

 
          
No
sooner was she out of hearing than Satan turned furiously upon the interloper,
who was still playing with his pistol.

 
          
“What’s
the meaning of this?” he asked. “Are you working for me or not?”

 
          
“Shore
I am,” the puncher returned easily. “I’ve just done yu a service. See here, I’m
ridin’ for Keith. How long d’yu s’pose I’d be doin’ that if I stood by when his
daughter was
needin’
help?”

 
          
“She
didn’t see you.”

 
          
“She
did; I was right close before I recognized yu.”

 
          
“I
don’t allow people I pay to correct me, even if I’m wrong.”

 
          
“Then
yu can call the deal off—I ain’t riskin’ my neck for a fool,” Sudden said
bluntly. “Yu were tryin’ to do somethin’ no decent girl would ever forgive.
Miss Keith is a lady, not a dance-hall dame.” He returned the glare in the
sated eyes. “If yu an’
me
are to tread the same trail
there’s one thing yu gotta keep in mind, that I ain’t one o’ the gaol-sweepin’s
yu got herded up in Hell City.”

 
          
The
bandit did not reply at once. He knew that the cowboy was right—he had behaved
unwisely, to say the least of it.

 
          
The
girl’s loveliness had shattered the shield of icy indifference behind which he
was wont to hide. This saturnine gunman had saved him from committing an irretrievable
blunder, and though he felt no gratitude, he did not wish to lose him. So, when
he spoke again, the anger had gone.

 
          
“It
is true. I acted like a half-wit, but I had not seen Joan for a long time and
her beauty swept me off my feet. I am sorry.” He laughed shortly. “Rescuing
damsels in distress seems to be a habit of yours. Miss Dalroy—”

 
          
“She
told yu?”

 
          
“There
was no need; I saw it all, though I was in Hell City at the time.” He read the
other’s expression, and added, “You don’t believe there are men who see things
their fellows cannot?”

 
          
“I’ve
met ‘em; it was allus a case of too much tangle-foot.”

 
          
Satan
shrugged. “I can’t convince you, of course, but I venture to predict that Joan
will beg you not to mention her meeting with me. Adios, my friend; it may be I
have misjudged you; we shall yet do things to our mutual advantage.”

 
          
He
waved a hand, spurred his mount, and was soon lost in the vegetation which
clothed the lower slopes of the hills. The cowboy spat in disgust.

 
          
“Play-actor,
but a damn dangerous one,” he muttered.
“Friend, huh?
I’d sooner tie up with a rattlesnake. Oughta rubbed him out, but I’m bettin’
the girl still thinks of him as he used to be, which ain’t goin’ to help me
any.”

 
          
Confirmation
of this view came as he approached the ranch that evening and saw Joan herself
riding towards him. She turned her horse when they met.

 
          
“I
want to thank you for—this morning,” she began. “What happened?”

 
          
Sudden
saw her anxiety, and smiled. “Why, just nothin’a-tall,” he replied. “I told
that hombre he’d find the hills
more healthy
, an’ he
drifted.”

 
          
Her
relief was obvious. “This is the second service you have done me,” she said,
“and I am going to ask a third: will you please keep silent about this
unfortunate affair? Knowledge of it would only embitter my father still more,
and might drive him to some desperate reprisal.”

 
          
“Anythin’
yu
say,
goes, ma’am,” the cowboy said quietly. “If I
hadn’t guessed who he was …”

 
          
She
smiled her gratitude. “I can’t understand,” she confided. “He was always wild,
impetuous, but never mean or dishonourable. He seemed older too, and
almost—inhuman.”

 
          
“Broodin’
over an injustice ages an’ sours a man plenty fast,” he told her, and—not
knowing his own story—she was surprised at the venom in his voice. Then he
added something he did not in the least believe, “Mebbe he ain’t
so
bad as folks figure—I’ve knowed such cases.”

 
          
The
words made her think. Was he himself one of the cases he had “knowed”? She
could not decide, but it seemed difficult to credit that this grave young man,
whose rare smile transformed his face into that of a boy, could be a notorious
killer. Perhaps he had only said it to comfort her. Impulsively she held out
her hand.

 
          
“Thank
you again,” she said, and spurred her pony.

 
          
Sudden’s
eyes followed her. “Nig, there’s fools yu couldn’t drag into heaven at the end
of a rope,” he told his horse.

 
          
Kenneth
Keith looked up as the latest addition to his outfit stepped on to the
verandah. A week had passed since he learned of the cowboy’s sinister history,
and nothing had happened to change his first impression.

 
          
“I’d
like to be foot-loose for a day or so, seh,” Sudden said. “Where do yore fellas
go when they got coin to spend an’ aim to have a good time?”

 
          
The
rancher’s face darkened at this unexpected request; it was more than a little
early for a new hand to be seeking a holiday. But he knew the breed; when the
urge for a spree possessed them, they would sacrifice their positions to ratify
it.

 
          
“Work-shy
already?” he asked sarcastically. “Red Rock
kill
clean
you out quickly enough; women, drink, and cards, with a probable gunfight
thrown in; you’ll find them all here.”

 
          
“Thank
yu, seh,” Sudden replied. “That tale will do for the boys, but the truth is,
I’m goin’ to Hell City.”

 
          
If
the puncher had suddenly developed horns and a tail his employer could not have
appeared more astonished.

 
          
“Are
you tired of life?” he cried. “Why, they’ll shoot you on sight.”

 
          
“Yo’re
forgettin’ my past,” the puncher pointed out, and when Keith remained silent,
“Didn’t yu get the news’ I warned yu about?”

 
          
“Yes, but I decided to ignore it, and I’m asking no questions.”

       
“Well, fella will be glad to see me.”

 
          
“That
is possible, if he knows who you are.”

 
          
“Black
Sam claims he’s a wizard—finds out everythin’.”

 
          
“That
nigger is a superstitious old lunatic, saturated with witchcraft, voodoo, and
like nonsense. To risk your life on that …”

 
          
“Not
any; the outfit is wise, an’ I’m bettin’ one of ‘em is in Satan’s pay.”

 
          
“Which
one?” the rancher asked sharply.

 
          
“Couldn’t
say,” Sudden replied, and grinned. “It ain’t Frosty
nor
Lazy—they’s
allus most amazin’ broke.”

 
          
Keith
was silent for a space, considering this singular proposition, and a little
suspicious. He reminded himself, however, that had the cowboy wished to desert
he could have done so without warning, and the Red Rock fable was unnecessary
unless he intended to return to the ranch.

 
          
“Why
are you going, Green?”

 
          
There
was a shade of anxiety in his tone which Sudden knew was not there on his
account.

 
          
“Just
to have a look at the fella an’ his hideout,” he explained. “Sort o’ spyin’ out
the land, yu savvy; I ain’t gettin’
no
place, hangin’
about here. He’ll take it I’m ready to doublecross yu, an’ that’s what I’m
gamblin’ on.” He hesitated for a moment. “Yu don’t happen to have a picture
o’—yore
On
?”

 
          
Keith
frowned. “No, I—destroyed them,” he said harshly. “Take care of yourself,
Green; I will explain to Lagley.”

 
          
As
the puncher walked away, a low voice called from a window at the end of the
building.

 
          
“These
wooden walls are not sound-proof,” Joan smiled. “I happened to hear your last
question. Is this what you want? It was taken only a few months before he—went
away.”

 
          
Sudden
scrutinized the photograph, which seemed oddly familiar. The costly cowboy
clothes, ornate belt and weapons were there, but the face of the wearer was
younger, smiling, and the eyes did not lack expression. A mark showed on the
right side of the chin. He pointed to it, and the girl nodded.

 
          
“A
faint scar, the only thing about him that hasn’t altered,” she said sadly. “You
see, I was the cause of that. It happened when we were children: I had teased
him, and running after me, he fell on a stone; the wound healed badly. All
along I have been persuading myself there must be some mistake, but when I saw
that …”

 
          
The
quiver in her voice and the trembling fingers as she took back the picture told
him that she was very near tears.

 
          
“A
fella who takes the wrong trail can come back an’ start again,” he consoled.

 
          
“Yes,”
she said, and her eyes met his meaningly. “I would like Jeff to have that
chance.”

 
          
Sudden
understood—she was asking him not to kill. To his great relief, the Colonel
called her, and he was spared the necessity of replying.

 
          
At
supper that evening, he asked questions about Red Rock, and casually mentioned
his holiday. The announcement met with a mixed reception.