Sudden The Marshal of Lawless (1933) s-8

by Oliver Strange

  The sheriff held out his hand. "So long, yu blame' outlaw," he smiled ."Send when you want me. By the way, there's a Lawless man here to-day--they call him the 'Parson.' Know him?"

  "Yeah, tin-horn card-sharp," Green said scornfully. "He ain't dangerous--even at poker."

  It would have certainly surprised him to know that the man who was not "dangerous" was even then riding the trail to Lawless, seeking diligently the best place to "hole up" and wait with a levelled gun for the "outlaw" who had, as he believed, despoiled him. He found what he wanted where the trail traversed a tiny hollow, the sides of which were masked by brush sufficiently high and dense to cover both man and mount. Selecting a spot to his liking, the bushwhacker squatted down, his rifle ready, his cold, expectant gaze on the road to Sweetwater.

  Half an hour passed and he heard the dull thud of hoofs again; this time there could be no mistake. The big, black horse was moving at a fast lope, his rider sitting slackly in the saddle, deep in thought. Now that the moment had come the gambler's nervousness left him. Planting his feet firmly, he trained his weapon on a point in the trail immediately opposite and when the horseman reached it, fired. The marshal, jarred out of his meditations by the crash of the report and the passage of a slug through his hat, snatched out a gun, drove a bullet into the puff of smoke in the brush, and, realizing the futility of argument, spurred the black. His chance shot, though it did no more than cut a furrow in the bushwhacker's cheek, disconcerted him so much that by the time he was ready to fire again horse and rider were a diminishing dot on the trail.

  "Missed him, my God!" swore the disappointed killer. "An' he damn near got me too." He wiped the blood from his face and swore again at the smart. "Have to let Seth handle it, after all," he went on. "But I ain't startin' yet; he'll mebbe wait for me."

  The marshal had no intention of doing so; he was pushing for Lawless at the best speed the big, knotted muscles of the black could produce. He knew what his chances were against a hidden adversary and was not disposed to take them.

  "It ain't often I play safe, Nig," he told his horse, "but this is one time, I reckon, when I gotta copper a bet."

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Some two hours after the marshal, Pardoe effected an inconspicuous return to Lawless and made his way to the Red Ace. He was tired, for he had not dared to keep to the trail, and a devious route had proved exhausting. Having first peeped in and ascertained that Green was not present, he entered the bar.

  "Where's the boss?" he asked.

  "In his room, an', if yore business ain't pressin', I'd postpone it," Jude told him. "He's 'bout as sociable as a grizzly b'ar with the bellyache."

  Pardoe stepped to the door of the office, opened it, and walked in. The saloon-keeper was sitting in the chair behind the desk, chin on his chest. Beneath his frowning brows his narrowed eyes shot a look of anger at the intruder.

  "What the hell du yu want?" he growled. "I told that fool out there--"

  "Jude tried to head me off, but I had to see you," Pardoe replied.

  "Come to pay back that five hundred?" Raven asked sneeringly.

  The taunt did not have the effect he intended, for the gambler achieved the nearest he could to a smile. "Yeah," he said. "What I gotta tell yu oughta be worth that--an' more."

  "I'm the judge o' that," was the retort. "Spill it."

  Pardoe placed his hat on the desk, sat down, and helped himself to a cigar. When he had lighted it to his satisfaction he said coolly:

  "The marshal ain't no particular pet o' yores, is he?"

  "I hate him," the half-breed hissed.

  "Seen him visitin' the sheriff in Sweetwater to-day," Pardoe went on. "Yu send him there?"

  "No," snapped the other. "But I'm goin' to send him to visit the Devil one day."

  The gambler grinned. "Odd that. I had the same idea--waited for him on the back trail, but I missed him. He's shore lucky."

  "Lucky? You musta been drunk," Raven said angrily. And then, as another phase of the incident struck him, "What yu wanta plug him for?"

  "Don't like the jigger, for one thing, an' yu can add to that he's holdin' down a job I could fill pretty comfortable my own self," Pardoe explained.

  "It ain't one for folk as miss," the half-breed sneered. "An' seein' yu did, there's no vacancy."

  The biting tone left the other unmoved; he was sure of his triumph. "There will be soon," he said quietly. "See here, Seth; the whole blame' country will have the laugh on Lawless when what I've found out in Sweetwater to-day gets around; the marshal has shore run a raw blazer on yu an' this township. Do I git his job if I wise yu up?" Raven nodded, and the gambler went on: "Do yu know what they call yore marshal over to Texas?"

  "How the hell should I?" Raven enquired.

  Pardoe laughed maliciously. "Yu wouldn't, o' course. Well, he's known there as 'Sudden,' the outlaw."

  The half-breed sprang to his feet. "What?" he cried, and, with an incredulous shrug, "Yu been feedin' on loco-weed, ain't yu?"

  "It's true enough," Pardoe assured him, and told how he had come by the information.

  "Mebbe she's mistook," Raven doubted, but his eyes glistened with satisfaction.

  The gambler shook his head. "She ain't; I remember him myself now. Knowed I'd seen him afore, but couldn't fix him. No, sir, he's the one an' only original Sudden, an' yu may lay to it."

  The phrase brought a half-grin to Raven's face, and a point to decide. Pardoe did not know that since the marshal was undoubtedly in Lawless when the stage was robbed there must be a second "Sudden" in the field. This was the reason for his enmity--he believed Green had stolen his money, and it suited the saloon-keeper that he should go on thinking so.

  "We've got him--cold," the saloon-keeper exulted. "Thisyer town will stand up on its hindlegs an' howl when it learns how he's razzle-dazzled it, an' it'll howl for blood too."

  "One thing, he couldn't 'a' done the bank job," Pardoe said.

  Raven laughed aloud. "He could, an', by God! I believe he did," he cried. "If not, why didn't he stay with the rest of 'em at the Box B that night?"

  "It'll be a shock for Strade."

  "Yo're shoutin'--an' for some others. I reckon Lawless will take notice when I speak, after this."

  "Yu'll be a big man, Seth," the gambler offered, a shade of envy in his tone.

  "Yu betcha," the saloon-keeper agreed. "Things is comin' my way, Pardoe, an' I shan't forget anyone what helped me. Now yu keep this strictly behind yore teeth for now. We're holdin' a winnin' hand; I gotta think out the best way to play it."

  "I reckon yo're just as pleased I missed him, Seth?"

  "Pleased, Parson?" Raven repeated. "If yu'd wiped him out I'd never 'a' forgiven yu. Death thataway ain't nothin'. It's when yo're young an' strong, full o' the lust of life, an' yu have to wait for the moment yu know it'll be taken from you... An' that ain't no dream--now," Seth returned. "But keep yore face closed. Sabe?"

  The Parson nodded and went out. When the door had closed behind him the saloon-keeper gave free rein to his exultation.

  "Yu were the one card I wanted to fill my hand, Mister Sudden, or Green, or whatever yore damn name is," he cried.

  "With yu cinched, I've got the rest of 'em like this." He spread out his hand, closing the talon-like fingers slowly. "Gotta get busy," he went on. "To start with, we'll sent for Strade; I'll enjoy givin' him a jolt." He scribbled a note to the sheriff and went in search of a messenger.

  * * *

  In the middle of the night the marshal and his deputy suddenly awakened to find the room full of men. By the light of a lantern someone was holding aloft, they could see that the intruders were Raven, The Parson, and a number of the "hardest" denizens of the town. Every man of them, save the saloonkeeper, had his gun out, and the expressions on the scowling faces showed that the threat was no vain one. Green sat up, making no attempt to reach his weapons.

  "What's the trouble, Raven? Yu wantin' me?" he asked coolly.

  "Not now--we got yu," the hal
f-breed jeered. "Reach for the roof, both o' yu, an' keep on doin' it."

  Realizing that they had no option, the two men obeyed. The marshal had no idea what it all meant, but he saw that, for the moment, he was powerless; Seth Raven held the cards. "If this is a joke--" he began.

  The harsh merriment of the other stopped him. "Yu got it," Raven said. "Just a little joke to square off for the one yu plastered on this town; on'y the last laugh is the best, an' we're goin' to have that. Git their guns an' search out that damn redskin." This to his followers.

  "That's no way to speak o' yore relations," Pete put in.

  For an instant Raven's eyes glared murder, and then, with a tremendous effort of will, he regained control of himself.

  "An' hang him when yu find him," he ordered.

  Two of the men searched the place and returned with the news that the Indian was not to be found. Raven turned savagely on Pete.

  "Where is he?"

  The plump little puncher grinned cheerfully as he replied, "Yore guess is as good as mine, brother; he was in the shack when we turned in, so he musta lit out when yu come. P'r'aps he don't like mongrels any more'n we do."

  This second reminder of his ignoble origin brought the fury back into the half-breed's face, and his voice was pregnant with it:

  "Yu'll pay for that to-morrow--pay in full. I'll make yu wish yu'd never been born."

  "Shucks! that's somethin' you can't do," the deputy returned easily. "Whatever happens to-morrow, I've had a middlin' good time up to now."

  Raven stalked to the door.

  "Watch the place all round, an' if they try to git out shoot 'em down," he ordered.

  When they were alone again, Pete rolled and lighted a smoke. "What's at the back o' this caper, Jim?" he asked.

  "Haven't a notion," the marshal replied. "Whyfor must yu go baitin' him an' get yoreself in bad? It's my hair he's after."

  "Hell, I ain't takin' no backwash from trash like him," the little man responded. "An' when I throw in with a fella it's to the finish."

  "Yo're several sorts o' a damn fool, but--I'm thankin' yu," Green told him.

  "Yu reckon they're goin' to hang us?" the deputy asked.

  "Well, Raven's natural instincts would suggest somethin' more lingerin', but I doubt if even the roughnecks o' Lawless would stand for torture, so he'll string us up the stupidest way," Green said, and added: "Well, I'm a-goin' to hit the hay; looks like we're in for a busy day."

  In a little while his steady breathing showed that he was asleep. Pete was not so fortunate; for an hour he lay staring into the darkness, thinking of what was to come.

  "He's the coolest cuss I ever met up with," he muttered. "Wonder where than damn Injun slid to? Bet he's workin' sixty minits to the hour; he don't like Raven neither."

  He stole to the window and peered out. In the faint, diffused light of the stars he could see the blurred form of a man, carrying a rifle, pacing slowly to and fro. Presently another joined him.

  Pete knew the men: toughs, both of them, belonging to that mysterious portion of the community the members of which never appeared to work but always had money for drink and cards.

  "Pete," came a whisper.

  The deputy spun round to find Green sitting up, and standing near was the familiar form of Black Feather. The Indian, it appeared, divining that Raven and his men spelt trouble, had slipped out of the window of. the kitchen, and, finding the place surrounded, climbed to the flat roof of the shack. As soon as the coast was comparatively clear he had dropped on one of the guards, knocked him senseless with his gun-butt, and re-entered the building.

  "Good work. Black Feather heap big chief," Pete commented. "What do we do now, Jim?"

  "Go out the way he come in, get out hosses, an' head for the Box B," the marshal decided.

  According to the redskin, there were only four guards. The one on the kitchen side had already been disposed of; the man at the back was their danger. The marshal devised a plan. Cautioning the others to await his signal, he climbed out and helped himself to the revolver off the still form lying in the shadow of the wall. Then he walked towards the rear of the building. In a few moments a man appeared dimly in the gloom, approaching him.

  "All quiet, yore side?" the stranger queried.

  The voice told the marshal who it was. "Shore, Parson," he mumbled. "There's on'y one thing--"

  "What's that?" asked the other, and came closer.

  The moment he was near enough the marshal leapt, his fingers closing round the man's throat and choking the cry of alarm before it was born. The steady, strangling pressure soon reduced the victim to helplessness and a tap from the marshal's pistol-barrel tumbled him, a limp heap, to the ground. His sombrero deadened both, the noise and force of the blow, but Pardoe would be harmless for some time. Having ascertained this, and collected the fallen man's belt, which to his great content he found to be his own, the marshal gave the signal. Silently they stole to the Red Ace corral, secured their horses, and started for the Box B. When they were safely on their way Pete emitted a chuckle.

  "I'm bettin' that Raven person will be a good one to steer clear of to-day," he opined.

  In the pale light of the dawn Green looked at the little man and laughed. "Sorry you feel like that, Tubby," he said. "We're goin' to see him." Then, noting the other's bewilderment, he added, "Did yu allow I'd run away?"

  "Huh!" Pete snorted. "I claim to be as plucky as the next fella, but I'd run from a rope every time. Dancin' on nothin' never did strike me as humorsome."

  "Mebbe Raven'll reconsider them projects if we go back with the Box B an' Double S outfits behind us," Green suggested.

  "Make a difference, o' course," Pete admitted. "But there's a jag o' men in that town."

  "Some of 'em friends of ourn," the marshal reminded.

  The deputy subsided, but he was not satisfied; it seemed to him nothing short of madness to go back to Lawless, and when they reached the Box B he again protested, only to find Andy on the marshal's side.

  "Shore we'll go with yu," the rancher cried. "That bird is flyin' too high an' it's time his pin-feathers was trimmed. Hey, Rusty, round up some o' the boys, an' tell 'em to come loaded for trouble."

  During breakfast Andy got the whole story of the previous day's happenings, and his face grew stormy when he heard of the hold Raven claimed to have on the Double S.

  "Throw Tonia out, will he, the dirty hound? Not while I can pull a trigger," he growled. "I'm obliged to yu again, marshal, but I wish yu'd broken his damned neck."

  Accompanied by Rusty and half a dozen well-armed riders, they made for the Double S, and since they wasted no time on the trip, they arrived before the men had dispersed to their different duties. Tonia met them at the door with a look of relief which her first words explained.

  "When I saw you in the distance I thought it was that man coming to turn us out," she said.

  "We're goin' to turn him out, or, anyways, show him where he gets off," Andy told her grimly, and related what had happened to the marshal. "We thought Renton an' some o' yore boys might like to come along."

  "Yu bet they will, an' I'll make another," bellowed Reuben Sarel from the veranda, adding, to a passing cowboy, "Yu, Lafe, push them broncs in the buckboard an' send Renton here."

  The foreman made no comment when he heard the story, but his lips clamped in a hard line as he turned away, and when he reappeared six riders followed him.

  "Gotta leave the rest to look after things an' Miss Tonia," he explained.

  "You needn't worry about Miss Tonia--she's going too," his mistress announced calmly, and shook a pretty but obstinate head to all their protests. "It is partly on my account that you are going," she pointed out. "Some of you may get hurt and then I'll be of use."

  She was looking at Andy as she spoke, and that settled the matter so far as he was concerned. The marshal clinched it by deciding that she would be as safe with them as anywhere else.

  They set out at once, the buckboard leadin
g, with Green beside it, followed by Andy and Tonia, with the rest of the party strung out behind. The cowboys had not the whole of the story, but they knew that Raven was trying to get their respective ranches, and that was enough; whether he had any claim to them was beside the question; they were loyal to their owners, and they did not like the saloon-keeper. Therefore they rode gaily on an errand which might mean death for any one of them, but beneath their banter was a note of stern purpose.

  "Reckon we'll put a light to the Red Ace an' chase that bastard redskin back to his wigwam," Rusty remarked.

  "Shucks! Ain't there no trees in Lawless?" drawled a Double S man, whose deliberation in speech and movement had long ago earned him a nickname.

  "Good for yu, Lightnin'," approved another. "I dunno what the marshal aims to do, but I'm with him, all the way."

  Truth to tell, the marshal did not know himself, and confessed as much when Sarel put the question.

  "I'm guessin' that arrestin' Pete an' me last night was just a bluff, an' I'm goin' to call it," he said. "It'll be a showdown, an' I ain't ready, but he's forced my hand."

  "Seth's crookeder than a cow's hindleg," Sarel observed. "He's had me by the short hair a long time past, but now I ain't carin' providin' Tonia don't suffer."

  The marshal nodded. He had a fairly accurate idea of what the other was referring to, and he looked at him with a newborn respect. There was something of his more virile brother in the fat man after all.

  CHAPTER XXV

  They arrived at Lawless to find the street empty save for a few loafers outside the Red Ace. One of these dived headlong into the saloon at the sight of them.

  Andy, the girl, and Green rode on to Durley's and met the proprietor of the Rest House at the door. His eyebrows rose at the sight of them.

  "The old girl'll be pleased to death to see yu, miss," he said to Tonia, and when she had gone into the house, "Ain't tired o' life, are you, marshal?"

  "Not that yu'd notice," the officer replied carelessly. "Why?"

  Durley spat in disgust. "Yu must be--to come back," he retorted. "Raven's as mad as a teased tarantula, an' he's turned most o' the town agin yu. Claims to have got the goods on yu for fair, though I dunno how. There's a meetin' at the Red Ace right now to elect that runt Pardoe as marshal, and show yu up."