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Authors: Louis L'amour

West Of Dodge (Ss) (1996) (8 page)

BOOK: West Of Dodge (Ss) (1996)
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He had dismounted in that draw south of Nine Point Mesa and waited, smoking a cigarette in cheerful anticipation of the early demise of one Texas Ranger.

Sutton appeared, riding a zebra dun that had an eye full of hell and alkali, and McClary duly informed him that he was going to blow his head off, and would he dismount and take it on the ground?

Johnny, being in an agreeable mood and aware that a fool must follow his natural bent, dismounted. Bill McClary dropped his cigarette, pushed it into the sand with a boot toe, and then with the cheerful smile for which he had been noted, reached for his gun.

The debate was brief, definite, and decisive. Johnny Sutton's Peacemaker put a period to the discussion, and Bill McClary paid for his mistake, cashing in his chips with a memory engraved on his mind of a Colt that appeared from nowhere and the realization, too late, that being the fastest man in the Big Bend did not make him the fastest in Texas.

As a result of the affair in the draw, Ranger Sutton found himself in possession of two saddlebags stuffed with gold coin and bills to the tune of seven thousand dollars, which is a nice tune on any sort of instrument. It is also a sum for one hundredth of which a man could be murdered in any yard of the miles between the Rio Grande and the Davis Mountains.

Moreover, there were in the vicinity several hard customers who knew what McClary had been packing, and would guess what Sutton was bringing back in those extra-heavy saddlebags. Due north of him, and awaiting with keen anticipation any well-heeled passing stranger, was the outlaw town of Paisano. In the choice between a hot meal in Paisano to a cold night among the cat claw and prickly pear, Paisano won hands down, and late in the day Johnny Sutton rode into the dusty main street.

To Rope Nose George, proprietor of the Mustang Saloon, the arrival of Johnny Sutton posed a problem of the first order. Rope Nose was unofficial boss of Paisano, the official boss being Pink Lucas, but Lucas was below the border on a raid. Rope Nose was disturbed, for he recognized Sutton the moment the dun stopped in front of the saloon, and he guessed what he carried. Now the guns of a Ranger are feared, yet seven thousand dollars has been known to turn many a yellow streak into the deep red of battle lust. This Rope Nose realized, and with misgivings.

He was aware that the town of Paisano existed solely because the Rangers had ignored it, being busy with immediate problems, but he was quite sure that if a Ranger were killed in Paisano the town would instantly be awarded first place on the list of Ranger business. In fact, even those not given to superstition in any form were willing to testify that killing a Ranger was bad luck.

Johnny Sutton carried his saddlebags when he came through the doors. With scarcely a glance at the hangers-on, he stepped to the bar. "Howdy, George! Mine will be rye, a meal, and a bed. How about it?"

"Sure thing! Surest thing you know, Mr. Sutton." George spoke that name loud enough so anyone in the room would know who had arrived and be hesitant to start anything. Seven thousand or no seven thousand, Rope Nose wanted nothing so much as to get the Ranger out of town.

Hurriedly, he put the glass on the bar, and a bottle beside it. "There's a good room right at the head of the stairs," he whispered confidentially. "You'll like it there."

He hesitated, his curiosity struggling with his better judgment, and the better judgment lost in one fall. "You . . . you run into Bill McClary?"

John Sutton's black, steady eyes centered on Rope Nose and the saloonkeeper felt a little chill go up his spine. He'd heard about the feeling those eyes inspired, and now he was a believer. "Yeah," Johnny said. "I saw him."

"He ... he rode on south?" Rope Nose asked hopefully. Personally, he had liked McClary, the most cheerful of a bad lot of bad men, most of them a humorless crowd. "He was goin' on?"

"When I last saw him," Johnny replied, "he didn't give the impression that he was goin' anywhere. Fact is," he added, "I suspect he's right where I left him."

Perk Johnson edged along the bar. "You must be some slick with that gun," he said admiringly. "Bill always said he aimed to try you on."

Sutton's gaze was frosty. "Bill McClary," he said, "was a mighty good man with damn bad judgment. I hope bad judgment ain't contagious around here."

The swinging doors smashed open and a little brown bobcat in the shape of a girl rushed through the door. Her eyes were flashing and gray, startling against the deep brown of her face. Her dress was torn and she held a shawl about her shoulders. "Are you the Ranger?" she demanded of Sutton. "If you are, come an' help me! Some thieves got my pa in the place next door, skinnin' him in a card game, an' I found another goin' through my wagon!"

There was no maidenly shyness about her. "Well, come on!" she said angrily. "Don't just stand there!"

"If your father's in a poker game he went into it of his own free will, and," Johnny added, "if he's your father I figure he's man enough to take care of himself. No coyote spawned a wildcat."

Her eyes flashed. "Are you another of these no-good, loafin' cowhands, or are you a Ranger? They've got my pa drunk an' he can't see to hold his cards. I went to get him an' they nearly tore my dress off. You come help me or I'm goin' back in there with a horsewhip!"

Sutton tossed off his drink. "Hold that grub, George," he advised, "an' open your safe an' put these saddlebags in it." As Rope Nose George's eyes bulged, Sutton added, "And don't get any ideas. I know just how much there is in there an' you're personally accountable for every dime of it!" George's heart pounded. Seven thousand dollars was the stuff outlaw dreams were made of. He was a notorious coward who lived in fear of both the law and the other men in Pink Lucas's gang, but this was sorely tempting.

Sutton watched him stow the bags carefully into the safe, and when the door was closed he turned and followed the girl outside. She said nothing more but walked toward the light from the next door with a free swinging stride.

She pushed open the door and instantly there was a yell of enthusiasm and a rush. "She's back, boys! She's back!" Let's teach that filly a--!"

The rush stopped so suddenly that one man almost fell down, for Johnny Sutton had stepped through the door after the girl. "Go back an' sit down!" he ordered. "An' damn you for a lot of mangy coyotes!"

Four men sat at a card table. The girl's father was obvious enough. He was not only so drunk he couldn't see, but two men were holding him upright in his chair and one of them was playing his cards. Johnny crossed the room and looked them over cynically. The redhead behind the drunken man looked up sheepishly. "Is he winnin'?" Johnny asked dryly.

The redhead's flush was deeper. "Well," he said guiltily, "he ain't been holdin' much. Right now he's losin'."

"How much has he lost?"

Red hesitated, then swallowed. "Right at a thousand dollars," he confessed, "maybe a mite over."

Johnny Sutton's right eyebrow tightened. The man did not look like he had a thousand cents, much less dollars. "Did he have that much, little lady?"

"You bet he did!" the girl flashed back at him. "And more, if these blisterin' pickpockets haven't stole it off him!"

Red looked abused, and he let go of the drunken man who slumped over on the table.

"Whose deal is it?" Johnny asked suddenly.

Their eyes were puzzled and wary. "Mine." The speaker was a lean-faced man marked with evil and crookedness.

"All right," Johnny said calmly, "you boys like this game. You started it. Now deal, and don't let any of your mistakes keep him from winning back his money."

"Now, look here--!" The tall man started to rise but Johnny's left hand dropped to his shoulder and slammed him back in his chair.

"Deal!" Sutton insisted. If he chose to make a fight of it, the result might mean a lot less crime in that part of Texas.

Grudgingly, the man began to deal. It was noteworthy that from that moment the drunken man began to win. Red, devilish in his glee and enjoyment of the reversed situation, bet the old man's hands recklessly. When thirty minutes had passed the tall man glanced at Sutton. "There, now. He's won it all back!" He dropped his hands to the table and started to push back.

"Deal." Johnny's voice was flat and dangerous. "Deal those cards. An' Red, you bet 'em like you see 'em! I like the way you play poker."

"He's got all his money, I tell you!" The tall man's face was wolfish. "I'll be damned if I--!"

Johnny Sutton's eyes fastened on the man, and they seemed to grow flat and lose their shine. With his free hand he reached out and swept all the money from in front of the players into the middle of the table. "You shuffle the cards, fast boy. You like it that way. Shuffle the cards, then you cut for high card with him. Winner takes all!"

"Don't do it, Chiv!" The speaker was a bearded man with a hard set to his jaw. "He can't get away with this!"

"You open your face again," Johnny said calmly, "an' you'll have a mouthful of loose teeth. Shuffle those cards, Chiv. This will teach all of you a lesson you'll remember next time you try to take a harmless old man who's just passin' through! Shuffle an' cut!"

The man looked at the cards with sudden distaste, then, belligerently, he looked up at Sutton. "This time I cut as I want, and it's on the level," he said. "If the old man wins he gets it all, an' if I win, I do."

The girl started forward with a cry of protest, but Sutton waved her back. "All right," he agreed, "but with your permission I'll cut for him." Sutton jerked a thumb toward the old man.

The gambler looked up and his hard eyes brightened with malice. "Why, sure! You cut for him!" He gathered the cards and shuffled them briefly, then slapped the deck on the table and took hold with his thumb and middle finger. "Okay?" he asked, and at Johnny's nod, he cut the cards and showed a queen of hearts, and smiled.

Johnny leaned over and shaped the deck with his fingers, then struck them slightly and split the deck.

At the cut, the gambler's face went white with fury and he grasped the arms of his chair, staring at the ace of clubs Sutton was showing. "Your own deck," Sutton said quietly.

"Lady," Sutton slid suddenly to his feet and stepped back from the table, "pick up the money. Tie it up in something and we'll leave." His black eyes held the gambler's. "Next time," he advised, "don't use a deck with slick aces."

The Passing of The gambler stared at him, his face taut with hatred and pent-up fury.

As the girl moved toward the door, Johnny Sutton looked the room over, letting each man feel the weight of his attention. "If that girl is bothered again, or if there is any more trouble during my stay in this town, I'll burn the place to the ground, and the ones who are lucky will go to jail."

Deliberately, he turned his back and walked out through the doors. At the wagon the girl turned. "My name is Stormy," she said, "and thanks. I guess Pa an' me ain't much, but we're grateful."

Sutton shrugged. "I was glad to help. If you need me, scream." He pointed toward the window of the room assigned to him. "I'll be up there."

The moon floated lazily above the serrated ridges of the scarred landscape below it. A coyote protested its troubles, and then as the moon slid down the sky, the coyote trotted off into the shadows in pursuit of food. Day edged its first skirmishing lines of light along the ridges and Rope Nose George turned over in his sleep and awakened.

All was dark and still but the window showed the first gray that preceded the dawn. Rope Nose George was suddenly wide awake, remembering the seven thousand dollars in the safe and three thousand more, or so it was rumored, in the old man's wagon. Most of this last had been realized from the sale of cattle, the rest from the poker game. Ten thousand dollars was more money than Rope Nose had ever seen. It was also more than had ever been in Paisano at any one time.

And then he heard the horses.

They were walking, and there were more than two of them. With a start, he sat up, realizing on the instant that it was Pink Lucas returning. Vastly disturbed, Rope Nose swung his legs out of bed and felt knew he must inform Pink at once Ranger. He also knew that money and that meant killing sure, would put him out of busi the back of W8 brain was the to the door. Then he stopp^ \
,, \V
pants, and has-

* a minute he stared,___. riders, thinking only of the missirv of Chiv Pontious. If the gambler He turned for the stairs t^ scrambled, panting up the stairX
h pants with one hand. The Ranger^^j the rumpled bed was a note
^ ^

"Sorry to leave like thi Got his money? But? . . . ! bled down the steps and into the and still, and the safe was close dial and opened the safe. Where t was another note.

"You should be more carej. tion when you opened the sof^\ money and you had better The door rattled, and he found himself pushed aside by swagger t0 lhe bar md pickK) left there by The gambler stared at him, his face taut with hatred and pent-up fury.

As the girl moved toward the door, Johnny Sutton looked the room over, letting each man feel the weight of his attention. "If that girl is bothered again, or if there is any more trouble during my stay in this town, I'll burn the place to the ground, and the ones who are lucky will go to jail."

Deliberately, he turned his back and walked out through the doors. At the wagon the girl turned. "My name is Stormy," she said, "and thanks. I guess Pa an' me ain't much, but we're grateful."

BOOK: West Of Dodge (Ss) (1996)
9.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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