Sudden Law o The Lariat (1935)

by Oliver Strange

  "What's yore idea?" he bellowed. "Comin' here a-disturbin' the peace an' knockin' respectable folks about. I've half a mind--"

  "Yo're flatterin' yoreself, sheriff; I shouldn't say yu had that much," Severn retorted, and a snicker went round the room, which infuriated the officer still more. "O' course, I didn't know this fella was a friend o' yores."

  "Friend nothin'--I never seen him afore," the sheriff disclaimed, "but I represent the law--"

  "Ain't yu a mite late gettin' into the game, sheriff?" queriedSevern sarcastically. "When that fella had his gun jammed into my back yu gave a pretty good imitation of a gob of mud. Yu aw him jump me."

  "I saw yu deliberately spill his drink an' tromp on his feet," the sheriff returned viciously. "An' if he'd beefed yu it would 'a' served yu right."

  Severn smiled at the circle of spectators, which now included everyone in the room.

  "Yu oughta get yore eyesight seen to, sheriff," he said. "It'll play yu a trick one o' these days." And then the mirth died out of his face. "I've seen quite a few sheriffs an' marshals, but yo're the worst specimen ever," he said acidly. "What's the matter with this town that it has to go into the desert an' fetch in a poison toad like yu to hang a star on?"

  The officer's face grew pale, his cheeks puffed out, and his beady eyes snapped with rage until he actually suggested the reptile to which he had been likened.

  "Yo're insultin' an' opposin' the law," he screamed.

  In sheer desperation, Tyler's hand went to his gun, and, in a tone he tried hard to make convincing, he said :

  "Put up yore hands, I'm arrestin' yu."

  Severn, lolling easily against the bar, laughed in his face. "Why, yu pore skate, I could blow yu to bits before yu could get that cannon out," he jeered. "See here, sheriff, I'll make yu an offer. We'll get a deck o' cards--a new one--an' have one cut each. The man who cuts the high card has first shot at the other from two paces--even yu couldn't miss that far away. That'll give yu an even break. What about it?"

  The sheriff's face palpably lost some of its colour as he heard this amazing suggestion. He had made his bluff and the other man had called it. He swept a furtive glance at the onlookers, but could see nothing but eager curiosity. If he asked for help to arrest the puncher, he would probably die swiftly--Severn's eyes had told him as much. On the other hand, the thing he would have called his soul shivered at the thought of staking his life on a cut of the cards. Fair as it undoubtedly was, the very cold-bloodedness of the proposition appalled him. And he knew he would lose--one look at the mocking, satirical face of the challenger, radiating confidence, settled the issue. A loophole occurred to him.

  "Pretty cheap bluff," he croaked. "Yu know dam well I can't take yu up wearin' this," and he touched his badge of office.

  "It ain't sewn to yore skin, is it?" queried the other, and then, "Well, I didn't think yu'd jump at it, sheriff; sorta guessed yu'd find a hole to crawl into, but just to show I warn't bluffin', the offer is open to any o' yore friends--or his."

  He pointed to the senseless figure on the floor, but his eyeswere on Bartholomew. The Bar B owner shrugged his shoulders as he replied :

  "That jasper's a stranger to me. I fight my own battles, my own way."

  "So I've heard," Severn commented, and his sneering smile conveyed anything but a compliment. "Tell that fella when he comes round where he can find me," he said to the bar-tender, and unconcernedly turning his back, walked out of the room.

  A little way out of town he waited, and presently Larry came loping up. The little man cut short his thanks.

  "Nothin' to that," he said. "It was a plain frame-up. I was watchin' an' yu never touched the fella; he was there a-purpose, an' he was sent for when they see yu come in. I couldn't place him at once, but after yu handed out that wallop it came to me. His name's Shadwell, but he's generally known as `Shady', which shore described him to a dot. He's a gunman, an' fast. Whyfor did yu make that fool offer to cut the cards? S'pose the sheriff had took yu up?"

  The foreman laughed. "I knew he wouldn't--he's yellow right through," he said. "It warn't meant for him. An' it ain't quite the same as an ordinary gun play where there's allus the chance o' bein' a split-second quicker'n the other fella. Cuttin' the cards for first shot is a cold gamble, live or die, an' it wants a hell of a lot o' nerve to sit into a game like that. Some o' the men in the saloon who knew I was talkin' at Bartholomew, are thinkin' he oughta called me, an' that's why I made the play. Yu thought I was just grand-standin'?"

  "I thought yu was bein' the natural dam fool yu are an' takin' an unnecessary risk," came the blunt answer.

  "It's the loss in prestige, Larry," Severn pointed out, his voice serious but his eyes twinkling. "Yu gotta consider the psychological aspect."

  "Aw right, professor, I pass," that young man interjected hurriedly.

  Chapter VIII

  To Phil Masters at the Lazy M ranch, the days came and went with leaden feet, and with the passing of each one, hen hopes of again seeing her father grew fainter.

  So far as the ranch was concerned, work went on as usual, and she realised with some bitterness that the absence of themaster was making no difference. Severn seemed to get on well with the men.

  Passing the foreman's hut, she saw the door was open, and the curiosity of her sex demanded a peep within. The room was empty, but in one corner stood a Winchester rifle, at the sight of which she stopped as though a bullet from it had struck her. She was about to step inside to examine it when a low, throaty rumble halted her, and she saw Quirt regarding her with questioning eyes. While she was hesitating she heard a step behind her, and turned to face the foreman.

  "Did yu want to see me?" he asked.

  "Yes, but your dog appears to have other views," she replied.

  He called the animal, which came with a bound and squatted beside him. Even in the short time since she had first seen the dog it had grown appreciably, and she commented on the fact.

  "Good grub an' a lazy time will work wonders," he smiled. "If yu stroke his head he'll know yu are a friend, an' remember."

  She looked at him sharply, and then did as he suggested. Quirt submitted to the caress, and again she was conscious of the feeling of revolt against the will power of its master; everybody and everything seemed to do as he desired. Even she--Abruptly she turned upon him.

  "That is my father's gun," she said, pointing. "How does it come to be there?"

  Severn hesitated, conscious that she was watching him narrowly, but his face betrayed no emotion, though he was inwardly cursing himself for not having put the weapon where it would not be so easily seen.

  "I found it," he said, and, anticipating her next question, "It was the day before I took the herd to the XT. I was ridin' up that way when a fella cut down on me from cover an' I had to deal with him; the gun was beside the body."

  "You killed him?"

  "Shore. It was him or me."

  "Who was it?" she asked, and he could read the horrified conjecture in her eyes.

  "The Mexican--Tgnacio," he told her.

  "Ignacio? And you suggest he killed my father?" she cried, incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me at the time?"

  "It don't amount to anythin'--the Greaser may have found or stolen the gun," Severn pointed out. "I didn't want to worry yu."

  The girl's face was pale and tense, her hands clenched until the knuckles showed white beneath the skin, and her big brown eyes were stormy. His excuse brought a disfiguring curl to her lips.

  "Where is Ignacio's body?" was her next question.

  "I don't know," the foreman said. "It vanished from where I left it--complete."

  "And do you expect me to believe this--story?" she asked sarcastically.

  "No," replied Severn, and his voice was hard and even-toned. "I don't expect yu to believe anythin' I say, Miss Masters, because yu have been told different, but yore not believin' it doesn't alter the truth."

  With a look which clearly expressed her contempt, the girl t
urned away. The foreman looked after her; his jaw was set grimly, but his eyes were soft.

  "The Princess continues to have no sorta use for us, Quirt," he said, scratching the dog's head. "She's thinkin' now I bumped off her daddy an' I dunno as I blame her; she's havin' a tough time."

  Phil, turning as she entered the ranch-house, saw the dog standing on its hind-legs, enthusiastically endeavouring to lick its master's face and getting its ears playfully cuffed. Her anger blazed anew.

  "The brute!" she exploded, and it was very evident she was not referring to the dog. "Bartholomew was right--there must be a conspiracy. Oh, if I find that man killed my daddy, I'll never rest till he is hanged."

  The second warning arrived in the same mysterious manner as the first, a few mornings after Severn's visit to Hope. The paper and crude lettering were identical, and even the wording had a like laconic similarity, for it read :

  "If yu leave yore cash in the bank yu'll lose it.

  A FRIEND."

  Severn pondered over it. What did it mean, and where did it come from? The only possible source he could think of was Darby, who being at the Lazy M, as he thought likely, to spy for Bart, might be turning down his old boss for his new, in gratitude for his life. However that might be, there the warning was, and having decided to act upon it, he headed for the town. Though he did not imagine there was need for haste, he rode at a sharp pace and reached his destination before eleven o'clock.

  He offered no explanation to the bank manager, but, having drawn t money in one-hundred-dollar bills, thrust it into his pocket and went along to Bent's. In the saloon he got a surprise, for Ridge was there, laughing uproariously at something the saloon-keeper had told him.

  "Severn, I'm shakin' with yu," he cried, extending a hand like a young ham. "I just been hearin' how yu threw another monkey-wrench into Bartholomew's works."

  The foreman gripped and grinned. "I got a rooted objection to gun-barrels in my ribs," he said. "Fussy o' me, p'raps, but there yu are."

  "It's done Bart more harm than a public lickin'," said Bent. "The whole town's talkin' about it. As for Tyler, it's made his life a misery; everybody's askin' him to cut the cards. What's brought yu in agin so soon, Severn?"

  The Lazy M man showed them the warning, and told them of the other he had received.

  "I dunno who sent it, or what the fella's drivin' at, but I'm playin' it to win, like it did the first time," he said. "Who's back o' that bank?"

  "Well, it's called the Pioneer Banking Corporation, but I've a suspicion that's just a fancy title an' the real owner is Rapson, the manager," Bent told him. "He's been here some time an' is reckoned straight. I got a bit there I don't wanta lose."

  "Same here. T'm goin' to follow yore hunch, Severn," Ridge said. "So the White Masks took a chance at yu, eh?"

  "Two fellas with their faces draped did, an' that was all they took," Severn smiled. "Know anybody around here named `Slick'?"

  "A chap called Slick Renny used to ride for Bart but he left the neighbourhood over a year ago," Bent said, and Severn did not pursue the inquiry.

  "Who does that old ruined cabin way up the creek towards the Bar B belong to?" he asked. "Looks a likely location."

  "That's what the fella who built it thought--a nester o' the name o' Forby--but he figured wrong," the saloon-keeper said. "Yu see, Bart regards it as on his range."

  "What happened?"

  "Accordin' to Bart, the nester pulled his freight an' burned the shack outa spite, but some of us has other ideas. There's fools as say the place is ha'nted, an' on'y a week or so ago, Old Spilkins come bustin' in here with the story that he'd seen a shadder hangin' another shadder on the big cottonwood by the cabin, but he was middlin' full o' rye at the time an' liable to see anythin'."

  After the customary round of drinks the men separated, and Severn, who had no other business in town, rode back towards the ranch.

  He was within a few miles of the ranch when he turned off the trail, heading for the southern boundary of the range, an area he had not yet explored. He found that the grazing, doubtless owing to the nearness of the desert, was not so good; there were few cattle, and he saw none of the outfit. Realising that his mount was tired he took things easily, and did not reach the Lazy M until daylight was fading. Outside the corral the men were unsaddling. Suddenly came the distant pound of hoofs and along the trail they could see a dark blob which became rapidly larger.

  "Won't be that gent's fault if he's late," remarked Big Boy, as he watched the oncoming rider. "He's shore hittin' her up a few."

  "Why, it's Gentle Annie!" cried Bones. "Must be a man after her."

  The burst of laughter this sally produced had but died away when Linley dashed up and pulled his pony to a sliding stop, the dug-in hoofs sending up clouds of dust.

  "Anyone chasin' yu, Gentle?" queried Larry, and when the boy shook his head, he added : "Well, yu needn't to have hurried, supper ain't ready yet."

  "Yo're a nice lot, ain't yu?" Linley retorted, surveying the grinning faces around him. "Yu don't deserve to know." He leaned forward in his saddle and scanned them carefully. "Wonder which of 'em was in it?" he speculated aloud.

  Severn saw that the boy had news.

  "Better spill it, Gentle, 'fore they shake it out o' yu," he suggested.

  Linley grinned at his foreman and delivered his tidings with dramatic suddenness. "The bank at Hope has been cleaned out an' Rapson perforated," he stated.

  A chorus of exclamations and questions followed the announcement, and in the midst of in came the clangour of a beaten tin pan which was Jonah's intimation that supper was awaiting their attention.

  "Come on, boys, Linley will give us the straight of it while we eat," Severn said, and led the way to the bunkhouse.

  The story, shorn of extraneous matter in the shape of comment and surmise, was as follows : Not long after noon--colloquially known as "third drink-time"--three strangers rode into Hope and pulled up at the bank, which was situated at the eastern end of the street not far from the bridge over the creek. They were dressed in cowboy rig, with hat-brims slouched down to conceal the eyes, and each wore a kind of white muffler which hid the lower part of the face. They were well armed and mounted. The two who had entered the building wasted no time. The moment they were inside they pulled their white chokers above their noses a levelled their guns on the startled manager, who was alone, 's assistant having gone to lunch.

  "What do you want?' he stammered.

  "All yu got," retorted one of the bandits. "An' pronto."

  The savage tone and the menacing weapon told the managerthat there was nothing for it but to obey, and he opened the safe. The other robber had found a leathern satchel and this was soon stuffed with all the currency in the bank. Rapson, white and trembling, had to look on while his ruin was accomplished. The thought drove him to desperation. In a drawer beneath the cashier's counter he knew there was a loaded pistol: if he could contrive to fire that someone might hear.

  The thieves, doubtless out of contempt, were not watching him very closely. Still holding his hands above his head he backed cautiously towards the counter. One of the ruffians was making a final search of the safe and the other, having apparently heard a sound outside, was listening and looking away. This was his chance, and with a sudden snatch he had the drawer open, clutched the pistol and pulled the trigger. He did not attempt to aim, his only thought being to give the alarm. The man whose attention had been distracted whirled upon him.

  "Damn yu for a sneakin' hound," he cried, and fired pointblank.

  With a hollow groan Rapson slipped to the floor, and the bandits jumped for the exit. At the sound of the shots the man outside had promptly drawn his rifle, and when an inquisitive citizen stuck his head out of a window some fifty yards up the street, a bullet which burned his cheek effectually checked his curiosity. The succession of shots roused the town, but men reached the open only in time to see two men emerge from the bank on the run, one carrying a bulging satchel. T
hey jumped into their saddles, wheeled their horses and spurred across the bridge on the eastern trail before the spectators had grasped what was happening.

  "An' yu can bet yore Sunday shirt that Hope is 'bout the maddest town this side o' the Rockies," Linley concluded. "No, Rapson ain't cashed but he's hurt oad--how bad they dunno till the doc comes from Desert Edge."

  "Was Bartholomew in town?" asked Severn.

  "He rode in 'bout half an hour later, an' he went on the prod immediate--bawled Tyler out for not roundin' up the White Masks till Hen almost blubbered. Bart claims they got five thousand o' his money, paid in yestiddy. He was organisin' a posse when I left an' threatenin' to flay them bandits alive when he catches 'em."

  Amid the chatter and excitement the foreman sat silent, seeking some clue as to the identity of his mysterious correspondent. Clearly the unknown was aware that the robbery was to take place. Who could it be? He went to his own quarters, and was wrestling with the problem when Barton entered.

  "The boys have bin indulgin' in a chin-wag," he began, "an' I'm here to say that if the loss o' the herd-money cramps yu any they all are willin' to wait for their wages till yu can pay 'em."

  The foreman smiled, but his expression showed that he was touched. "They are shore white," he said. "But I drew that mazuma out this mornin'."

  "Yu drew it out?" repeated Larry in amaze. "Well, of all the lucky old--"

  "No, it warn't luck," Severn chipped in. "Look at these."

  He produced the two warnings he had received, and explained how they had come to him. Larry gave vent to a whistle.

  "Odd number, ain't it?" he queried. "Yu must have a guardian angel somewheres, Jim, an' Gawd knows, yu need one. Any idea who it may be?"

  The foreman mentioned his suspicions of Darby, but his friend did not agree.