Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1) (21 page)

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Authors: Frederick H. Christian

Tags: #cowboys, #western fiction, #range war, #the old west, #piccadilly publishing, #frederick h christian, #oliver strange, #sudden, #the wild west

BOOK: Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1)
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Chapter
Fifteen

 

The
urgency of his mission had lent wings to Dave’s feet; he reached
South Bend that same night, and found the old judge busy writing in
his study. Breathlessly, Dave told his story; of Grace’s visit to
the bank, the unexpected reversal of de Witt’s friendship, the
call-in of the mortgage; of the ambush attempt by Parr and what
Parr had confessed; and all the rest. Judge Pringle listened
without expression until the Slash8 cowboy had finished.


You say that de Witt has asked for an extra three thousand
dollars on the mortgage?


That’s right,’ Dave nodded. ‘Grace—uh, Miss Tate was shore
that fifteen hundred dollars was the correct amount, but de Witt
trotted out the papers and there it was in her daddy’s fist, an IOU
for four thousand five hundred.’


And de Witt has kept this paper at the bank?’

Dave
nodded again. ‘I can’t believe the Old Man woulda borrowed that
kinda coin, Judge,’ he blurted. ‘He shore never spent nothin' like
that much on improvements at the ranch.’


I’m sure of that,’ growled the older ma-n. ‘What you’ve told
me tied in with some other things I’ve discovered. Now, when did
you say the deadline is?’


Brady said he’d hold the auction in Hanging Rock day after
tomorrow, midday.’ Dave informed the lawyer.


I see. Then you will forgive me if I suggest that we do not
need to ride overnight to the Slash 8? I am not as young as I was,
Mr. Haynes, and you’ll forgive me if I say that you look as if you
need some rest yourself. I learned some years ago that the haste we
make is often lost when we get where we are going.’

The old
man tempered his words with a smile, and Dave nodded
glumly.


I guess yo’re right, Judge, although I had kind of
figgered—’


I know, my boy. I haven’t quite forgotten what it’s like to be
young. But rest assured, nothing is going to happen tonight at the
Slash 8 if you stay here. Perhaps I should get my housekeeper to
look at that bandage on your arm and then make you up a bed. We can
start at first light tomorrow.’

Dave
nodded again.


And don’t be downcast,’ the Judge rallied him. ‘I think I can
promise you that we shall be able to put a halt to Mr. de Witt’s
plans. Now … how about a nice hot cup of cocoa?’

Dave did
his best to hide his feelings from the kindly old man.

Even
while Dave was on his way to South Bend, the Slash 8 had another
visitor. Watching the latest arrival, Dobbs remarked to Shorty that
the ranch was getting to be a regular meeting place.


Shore, an’ we get all the best people comin’ to call,’ replied
that worthy, waspishly. ‘His Majesty King Barclay. Yu reckon we
oughta curtsey?’

Gimpy
broke up their chatter with a promise that the first such inviting
target either of them presented would be the recipient of his
well-aimed boot, and walked out into the open yard to meet Barclay.
The big rancher nodded to him curtly. ‘Miss Tate here?’ His eyes
roamed across the front of the house as if he were assessing its
value.


That’d depend,’ grated Gimpy, ‘on who’s askin’. In yore case,
I ain’t shore whether she is or not, but … I’ll ask.’

Leaving
the burly Box B man to swallow the insult as best he could, Gimpy
went into the house. He returned a few moments later with Grace at
his side, and called, ‘ ’light down, Barclay. The boss-lady sez
she’ll see yu, although I’d’ve thought she’d be a mite more
partickler.’

Barclay’s rage finally broke through his surface control, and
he hissed, ‘Yu’d better mind yore manners, damn yu. When I’m—’
Here, he stopped abruptly, as though suddenly aware that he had
overstepped himself.


Go on, Mr. Barclay,’ Grace said sweetly—too sweetly, had the
big man had but the wit to see it—When you’re what?


Why, I was goin’ to say … when I’m visitin’ a lady I don’t
expect to have to swaller insults from stove-up freeloaders,’
Barclay said quickly. ‘Look, girl, I don’t want to argue. I came up
here for one reason only: to see you.’ The emphasis upon the
personal pronoun brought a faint flush to the girl’s
face.


What for?’ was her direct question.

Without
replying, Barclay dismounted and tethered his horse. His mind was
seething with questions. The girl was obviously going to be
hostile, and that was bad. There was so little time now; he had to
get control of this ranch, or de Witt would have everything, and he
would be paid off with a pittance, a tenth of the fortune that the
banker would make. He had hoped that his proposal of marriage had
intrigued her; that, in view of her circumstances, she might yet
agree to it. He chose his words carefully as he mounted the porch
steps.


To offer yu my help,’ he began. ‘Listen, girl, I made no
secret o’ the fact that I wanted yu, the very first time I sat here
an’ talked to yu. I know of yore trouble: Brady is tellin’ everyone
in town how he’s goin’ to enjoy seein’ that high-stepping Slash 8
crowd eat dirt. Is it right that yo’re still shy three thousand
dollars?’


Yes, it is,’ Grace said, ‘although what—’

Barclay
held up a beefy hand. ‘Let me finish, girl. Here’s the way I see
it. I told yu once that with your ranch an’ mine combined, we could
make an empire out o’ this valley, an’ it’s still true. Yu could be
queen o’ the Sweetwater Valley. Marry me. I’ll pay off yore debts,
we’ll join our ranches together, an’ I’ll treat yu like the queen
yu deserve to be. What do yu say?’ It was a masterly speech,
Barclay told himself, and he could see that he had impressed the
girl. He was congratulating himself on his performance when Grace
Tate’s voice cut in on his reverie.


And if I refuse?’


Shucks, girl, yu know what’ll happen. The bank will foreclose,
an’ I’ll get the Slash 8 anyway. The ranch itself don’t mean
anything to me. It’s yu I want to protect: I don’t want to see yu
humiliated in front o’ the whole riff-raff o’ Hangin'
Rock.’


Are you so sure that I cannot pay off the mortgage? Grace
asked sharply.


Grace, girl, I’m the biggest man in this valley. I know to
within five dollars what every man within fifty miles has in that
bank. I’d be a mighty pore businessman if I didn’t.’ Barclay was
growing expansive. He felt now that he was sure to win;
nevertheless he constantly guarded against giving the girl any
indication of how important it was to him that the Slash 8 was not
sold in auction. She must surely see that whichever way the chips
fell he would get the ranch (she could not know more). The fact
that he did not own the Box B, or, for that matter, the fine suit
he was wearing, bothered Barclay not a bit.

Grace,
meanwhile, struggled to control her mounting distaste for this
puffed and ugly man. She asked another question.


Surely I would have to get my guardian’s permission to
marry?’


Shucks, that don’t matter,’ Barclay smiled. ‘We could marry in
secret, an’ yu could spring it on them later. That way, if Green is
tryin’ to ruin yu, I’d be around to protect yu.’


I’m sorry,’ Grace said. ‘I must have time.’ She watched the
rancher’s reaction from beneath lowered lids, saw the explosive
anger that reached his eyes, made the veins bulge in Barclay’s
forehead.


Girl, I ain’t the waitin’ kind,’ Barclay told her brutally.
‘Tomorrow, they’ll be sellin’ yore ranch by auction. If yu want to
avoid that, if yu want to hold on to what’s yores, marry me today.
Yu don’t really have much choice.’


You are right, Mr. Barclay,’ Grace said, rising. He looked at
her in bewilderment. ‘Of the two disgraces, however, I prefer the
public to the private. I would rather be sold at auction myself
than marry a liar and a cheat and a criminal, all of which I
believe you to be. I will now thank you to leave this
ranch.’

Barclay
jumped to his feet, brow black as thunder, fists clenching and
unclenching.


Girl, yu just made the biggest mistake o’ yore life. I was
goin’ to be kind to yu. Now, I’ll see yu in hell afore I’d help yu.
Tomorrow I’ll throw yu out of here personally.’


That’s tomorrow,’ cut in a dry voice. ‘Today, it’s the other
way around. Grab him, boys!’ The speaker was Gimpy, and behind him
were grouped the rest of the crew, who wasted no time in grabbing
Barclay’s arms, and frog marching him down the porch steps and
across the yard, to where Dobbs had his horse waiting.

Gimpy
drew his gun and told the boys to turn Barclay loose.


Damn yu, I’ll see yu all in hell for this!’ raged
Barclay.


If I see yu in hell, dammed if I don’t ask for a transfer to
Paradise.’ grinned Gimpy, and without expression, he fired his gun
under Barclay’s horse’s belly. The explosion sent the animal
rocketing away down the trail to the river, with Barclay failing to
hang on. Gimpy stomped up to the house.


He’s gone, ma’am. Kinda faster than he intended, I reckon,’ he
grinned.

Grace’s
face was sober. ‘He’ll never forgive me for what I said to him,’
she said. ‘I pray that David has discovered something to help us.
And what has happened to Green?

Chapter
Sixteen

 

When
Sudden whirled to face the man who had caught him unaware, he found
himself looking down the barrel of a Remington held in the rock
steady hands of a hulking, broken-nosed brute of a man whom he
recognized immediately as Bull Pardoe, the leader of the gang which
had tried to hang George Tate that fateful night at the Slash 8.
Pardoe evidently recognized his prisoner, too, for an evil smile of
satisfaction creased his face.


Well, well,’ he sneered, ‘if it ain’t the two-gun hero
himself. So you sneaked past Smitty! What brings yu up thisaway,
hero?’


Snake-huntin’,’ was the laconic reply, ‘an’ I reckon I’ve
found a real nest of ’em.’


Yo’re probably goin’ to wind up gettin’ bit, too,’ was the
sharp retort. ‘I’ been hopin’ to get the chance o’ salivatin’ yu,
hero, an’ dammed if now ain’t just as good a time as any ....

So
saying, Pardoe’s finger tightened on the trigger of the repeating
rifle. Before he could add the extra ounce of pressure his
prisoner, who still stood as though it were he who held the gun,
remarked quietly,


Don’t yu reckon yu’d better wait until yore boss sees
me?’


He ain’t—’


Here—I know. It ain’t no use lookin' dumb, I know yu ain’t the
ramrod o’ this cozy li’l group,’ interjected Sudden. ‘Yu ain’t I
got the brain.’


Yu better shut yore yap,’ growled the big man, ‘afore I shut
it. I got half a mind −’


An’ that’s about all,’ snapped Sudden. ‘Ain’t yu given a
thought yet to how I found this place?’

Confusion pursued puzzlement across Pardoe’s face, and the
Slash 8 man pressed home his advantage.


Curt Parr talked,’ he told his captor. ‘I’ve passed the word
on, so it don’t make no never-mind what happens to me. My advice to
yu is to start thinkin’ o’ skippin’ out o’ this neck o’ the woods.
Yo’re goin’ to be up to yore navel in law mighty soon.’


Yo’re bluffin’,’ growled Pardoe uneasily.


In which case, yu got nothin’ to worry about,’ said Sudden
airily. ‘Go on an’ shoot.’ He watched his man carefully. Pardoe
regained his composure very quickly, and, moving without warning,
he swept the barrel of the rifle up and across, catching Sudden a
glancing blow on the temple. Had the Slash 8 man not been ready for
such a move, the blow might have been more damaging; as it was, he
dropped to his knees, shaking his head and giving every appearance
of being half-stunned. Anything which might make Pardoe relax his
guard slightly was a good thing. Pardoe did not make the mistake of
coming any closer, though. Instead, he jeered, ‘Come on, hero, tell
me some more. Yo’re bluffin’, an’ I nearly swallered it. Git on
yore feet.’

Sudden
got up, acting as though it was a painful struggle. In truth, his
head was throbbing from the blow he had received. Pardoe gestured
with the rifle. ‘Shuck yore gun belt. Drop it an’ step away from
it.’ Sudden complied with the order and Pardoe rasped, ‘Now march!
Lead the way to the cabin, an’ don’t try no tricks or I’ll beef yu
shore.’

With
Pardoe four paces behind, the rifle cocked and ready, Sudden had no
choice but to comply with the order. As they neared the cabin the
men Sudden had been watching came towards them.


Look what I found snoopin’ around,’ announced Pardoe. ‘Our
two-gun friend from the Slash 8—only he don’t look so tough without
his guns.’ The others gathered around in a circle, and Sudden noted
that one of them sported a purple bruise on his cheekbone and
jaw.


Hello, Ray,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Bump into a
door?’

The man
addressed allowed his face to twist into ugly rage, and he took a
step towards the Slash 8 man, fist upraised. A word from Pardoe
stopped him.


We all owe him,’ Pardoe snapped. ‘I got his mark on me, same
as you others.’ He touched the bullet burn along his ear-lobe. ‘An’
then there’s Morley.’

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