Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) (28 page)

BOOK: Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938)
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“Someone
musta spilt the beans; that was the sheriff leadin’.”

 
          
“Talk
sense,” Squint said irritably. “None o’ us heard o’ the job till this mornin’.
Point
is,
what’s to do?”

 
          
“Yu
three will go back an’ report,” Sudden said. “I wanta find out what’s happenin’
to that gold—mebbe we’ll get another chance. I’m goin’ to Red Rock.”

 
          
“The
hell you are,” Scar said. “Any one of us could tackle that.”

 
          
“Any
one o’ yu would be clapped in the calaboose as soon as the sheriff put eyes on
yu,”
came
the stinging retort. “I’m not knowed.”

 
          
This
being the literal
truth,
was unanswerable. Sullenly
the three watched him ride away, and then set out on a task besides which the
risky one of robbing the coach was pure enjoyment; they had to own to another
failure.

 
          
Free
from observation, Sudden’s disappointed expression vanished in a satisfied
grin. He had scored again, and though compelled to deny himself the pleasure of
breaking the bad news to the
bandit,
he had a hunch
that his visit to Red Rock would be worthwhile. But caution was imperative, and
therefore he compassed a half-circle in order to enter the town from the west.

 
          
He
found it agog with excitement. The coach had departed, but armed men were
stationed near the bank, and the saloons were full. Sudden entered the largest
of these, purchased liquor, and sat down at a table. Presently, as he had
expected, a burly, red-haired man—after a word with the bartender—came to join
him, glass in hand.

 
          
“Stranger
here, I think?” he remarked genially.

 
          
“Yu
don’t have to think again—sheriff,” the puncher returned. “The town seems sorta
agitated.”

 
          
“Road-agents
tried to hold up the coach,” the other informed, and gave details, watching
keenly.

 
          
“Which
is why yo’re investigatin’ me, huh?” Sudden smiled. “D’yu
figure
any of ‘em would be nervy enough to make for here?”

 
          
“Might
be a good bluff—’cept for the fella downed, we didn’t git a glimmer of ‘em.”

 
          
“Well,
yo’re wastin’ time on me. I’m from the north, aimin’ to visit a man name o’
Merry. Know him?”

 
          
“Shore
I do—tall, an’ that scanty he don’t hardly throw a shadder.
Runs
the Twin Diamond ranch.”

 
          
“That’s
the joker,” Sudden agreed, and smiled when he saw the other’s eyes harden. “He
must ‘a’ altered some, for when I last met up with him he was short an’ his
shadder made yu think the sun had gone in. Has he rebuilt that hen-roost he
calls a house yet?”

 
          
The
sheriff laughed. “I lose,” he said. “The
drinks is
on
me. Any friend o’ Mart’s is welcome here.” He replenished the glasses, and went
on, “I was admirin’ that black o’ yores, but the brand beat me.”

 
          
“The
JG stands for James Green, meanin’ me,” Sudden said carelessly. “He’s a wild
stallion, an’ I broke an’ put the the iron on him my own self.”

 
          
“I’m
Sim Dealtry, sheriff o’ this burg some ten years now, an’ it ain’t
no
cake-walk.”

 
          
“Pleased
to know yu,” the puncher replied, and then, “There used to be another range
alongside the Twin Diamond, owned by a starchy of Southerner called Keith. He
had a son—nice-appearin’ lad, but a trifle mettlesome. Is he still about?”

 
          
“Ain’t
seen him for quite a considerable spell,” the sheriff said. “He was a pretty
constant visitor to Red Rock, an’ bein’, like you say, mettlesome, got in with
the wrong party. Gamblin’, drinkin’, an’ then a shootin’, though that didn’t
amount to much for the fella was as crooked as a cow’s hind leg an’ pulled
first, but when it comes to plain murder …” His lips closed down on the word
and his eyes were flinty. “My own son, Dan, shot from behind in the dark,” he
went on throatily. “An’ that same night, Jeff Keith, who had quarrelled with
the boy, disappeared. The town pinned the crime on him right away.”

 
          
“An’
yu?” the puncher asked.

 
          
Dealtry
shook his head. “I ain’t shore,” he admitted. “I know somethin’ the rest don’t:
Keith allus carried a forty-four, the same cartridges fittin’ his rifle, an’
the slug taken from my boy’s body was—different. O’ course, he mighta used
another gun.”

 
          
“Anyone else missin” ‘bout that time?”
Sudden asked. “Yeah,
chap named Lafe Lander that Keith was pretty partial to, but he showed up again
two-three days later. Didn’t stay though—said he was goin’ back East, where he
belonged.”

 
          
“Had
he any grudge against yore son?”

 
          
“They
didn’t mix; it was over him that Dan an’ Keith fell out. I guess my boy spoke
his mind too plain.”

 
          
“Tough luck, sheriff.”

 
          
“Shore
was—an’ is. I’d feel easier if the sneakin’ houn’ hadn’t got away with it.”

 
          
“What’s
come o’ young Keith?”

 
          
“I
wish you could tell me,” Dealtry said. “His dad disowned him—complete. Some
claim he’s the masked leader of a band of outlaws pesterin’ the country since
soon after he was lost sight of. What d’you make o’ that?”

 
          
Sudden
examined the familiar red badge with well-simulated curiosity.

 
          
“Yu
can search me,” he replied, inwardly amused at the thought that if the sheriff
took him at his word, he would find a second. “Where’d yu get her?”

 
          
“The
dead hold-up was wearin’ it, an’ if rumour is right, it means he was one o’
Keith’s gang. Well, I gotta get along to the bank;
them
hombres may try again; I hope they do. See you later, p’r’aps.”

 
          
“I’m
turnin’ in,” Sudden told him.
“Makin’ an early start.”

 
          
“‘Member me to Mart.”

 
          
“Shore
will, but he’ll be surprised yu’d forgotten what he looked like.”

 
          
The
sly reminder of his little trap brought a grin to the sheriff’s face. “You
ain’t obliged to tell him that,” he pointed out. “An’ say, if ever you want to
cash in on that
hoss,
let me know.”

 
          
“When
he’s for sale I’ll be wearin’ wings—mebbe,” Sudden smiled.

 
          
Dealtry
nodded comprehendingly; he had felt that way about a horse himself.

 
Chapter
XIX

 
          
The
sun was no more than peeping above the purple hills on the horizon when Sudden
rode out of Red Rock. The town was not yet stirring, but in front of a squat
‘dobe building which he knew to be the bank, an armed man was steadily pacing
to and fro; clearly the sheriff was overlooking no bets. He smiled grimly.

 
          
“We’ve
taken the pot again, Nig, but the luck’s too good to last,” he murmured.
“There’s bound to come a time when I’ll wanta throw in an’ dasn’t, an’
then—mebbe yu’ll have a new master.”

 
          
The
animal whinnied, threw up its head, and dropped into a long lope which, save in
difficult stretches, would eat up the miles. So it came about that, while the
day was still young, Sudden rode again into Hell City, turned his horse into
the corral, and went into the saloon. His three men were there.

 
          
“Reported?
Not damn likely; that’s yore affair,” Scar snorted, in reply to a question.

 
          
Sudden
smiled; they were not going to help him. “I’m obliged,” he said. “I’d sooner
tell the story my own way.”

 
          
He
read the instant look of apprehension; evidently it had not occurred to Roden
that the whole blame for the nonsuccess of the expedition might be put upon
himself and his companions.

 
          
“Guess
I’d better come along,” he suggested.

 
          
“All
the same to me,” Sudden said indifferently.

 
          
He
went out. Scar followed, sullenly enough, for he now saw that in trying to be
clever he had been merely stupid; he should have made his own tale good.

 
          
“There
ain’t
no
call to tell him we come back ahead o’ you,”
he suggested.

 
          
“Are
yu expectin’ he won’t know?”

 
          
Scar
was not, he had only hopes, and these died the moment his chief set eyes on
him.

 
          
“You
arrived eight hours ago, Roden,” he said. “Why haven’t I seen you?”

 
          
The
man had an inspiration; he jerked a thumb at his companion. “Best ask him; he’s
the doc, an’ a pretty mess he’s made of it.”

 
          
Satan
looked savagely from one to the other. “Where’s the gold?” he snapped.

 
          
“In
the bank at Red Rock, I reckon,” Sudden said coolly, and told what had
happened.

 
          
The
looked-for outburst did not come, but below the mask he could see the rigid
jaw-muscles and knew that the bandit was fighting to conceal his fury.

 
          
“So
you failed,”
came
the caustic comment, and the tone
conveyed a threat.

 
          
Sudden
glared at him. “Shore we did,” he retorted harshly, “an’ whose fault was it?
Yores, for givin’ me muck-
rakin’s
to work with. If
they’d obeyed orders Daggs wouldn’t ‘a’ fired, an’ we’d ‘a’ had the posse under
our guns before they knowed we was there, an’ cleaned ‘em up. As it was, they
outnumbered us two to one; it’s no use shoutin’ against thunder.”

 
          
Scar’s
eyes were near popping out of his head—he had never seen his dreaded chief
talked back to, and fully expected to see the offender shot down. But the
masked man had himself in hand. He looked at Roden.

 
          
“Was
that the way of it?”

 
          
“Daggs
was too eager, an’ spilled us,” the rogue sulkily admitted, and with a spark of
spirit, added, “
You
didn’t tell us there would be a
guard follerin’ the coach.”

 
          
“You
can get out,” Satan said, and when Roden had retreated, willingly enough,
turned to the puncher. “It seems you could not help it.” He was silent for a
moment, and then, “Singular how things have gone awry for me since you came
here.”

 
          
“Yu
have lost yore medicine.”

 
          
“What
do you mean?”

 
          
“When it happens to an Injun, he has angered his gods an’ nothin’
goes right; a white man calls it bein’ outa luck.”

 
          
Satan’s
lips curled disdainfully. “The excuse of the weak,” he said. “The strong man
laughs at luck—good or ill. What did you learn at Red Rock?”

 
          
“On’y
that the bank is a fine place to stay away from just now,” Sudden replied. “The
sheriff showed me one o’ yore badges—got it from Daggs. He was real
interested.”

BOOK: Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938)
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