The man nodded, and noting that yet she hesitated, said quietly, "I'm takin' yu to a friend. If yu'd rather wait for Black Bart--"
"No, no, I'll come with you," she replied hurriedly.
He led the way through the pines to another hut very similar to the one they had left, and unlocking the door, motioned her to enter. Standing facing the door, a look of grim expectancy on his face, was a man she recognised.
"Judge Embley ! " she cried, and her hopes sank again, for she could not forget that this man was Severn's friend, and was, according to Bartholomew, in the plot against her. The Judge's expression changed when he saw who his visitor was.
"So it is you, and not that blackguard from the Bar B," he said. He looked at the one-eyed man. "What's the game, my friend?" he asked.
The man shrugged his shoulders. "No game, Judge," he replied. "I'm willin' to make a dicker with yu." Embley looked his question. "There's a fella here passin' in his checks." He paused as the other nodded understandingly. "No, I didn't shoot him," he continued. "He got his in that ruckus the other day with Severn an' his men at the Cavern. Well, he's somethin' on his mind an' wants to go out with a clean slate. If yu'll come an' write down his statement an' the young lady will witness it, I'll take the both o' yu away from here."
Embley considered only for a moment, and then, "Lead the way," he said.
They followed him out of the pines, across a bare plateau to where stood a larger cabin, sheltered by an overhanging shelf of rock. It consistedoftwo rooms, the second of which, from the piles of blankets, was evidently a sleeping apartment. On twoofthese piles men were lying, one silent and the other moaning feebly. It was to the latter that the one-eyed man conducted them. The Judge looked at the other bed.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"Oh, Slick, actin' boss o' this crew," was the reply. "He's just--sleepin'."
Despite the careless tone, the girl shivered; she rememberedthe shots she had heard. The still figure lying in the shadow looked unnatural, and she could detect no movement. The occupant of the second bed claimed her attention. By the light of the lantern on an up-ended box, she could see that he wasofa type common enough on the frontier, a manofmiddle-age, with coarse, brutal features now somewhat softened by suffering. His tanned, unshaven face seemed to have been drainedofblood, and his eyes had sunk in their sockets. He coughed almost incessantly, and after each bout there was a stainofred on his lips.
"'Lo, Patch," he greeted feebly.
"'Lo, Mobey, how're yu makin' it?" asked the one-eyed man, and without waiting for a reply, continued, "I've fetched the Judge an' the young lady like I prornised." He turned to the lawyer and whispered, "Better get busy, he's down to his last chip "
Embley took paper and pencil from his pocket and motioned the girl to listen. The sick man understood.
"I ain't got much time, Judge, an' I'm puttin' things plain," he began. "Yu'll remember the holdin' up o' the Desert Edge stage some years back, when Tug Satters, the driver, was killed?" The judge nodded. "I was one o' the four what done it, an' I shot Satters," the other went on. "I didn't have no grudge agin him, but when we halted 'em, Tug dropped his lines an' reached back. T thought he was goin' for his gun, an' let drive. I figured after that he just forget to put his paws up an' was feelin' for his baccy, 'cause he hadn't got no gun. Well, I was sorry for Tug, but it was just a mistake, an' it ain't that I'm frettin' about. Here's the real reason I wanted yu, Judge; soon after the robbery I wrote out an' signed a paper sayin' the shootin' was did by another--a fella who warn't in the hold-up a-tall. I had to do it, Judge, or go to the pen myself for-somethin' else."
The weak voice faded out and a violent fitofcoughing shook the man's frame; his fingers gripped the blanket until it seemed the bones must burst the sun-burned skin. When he could speak again it was little more than a whisper.
"The name--I had to put--in that paper was--Philip Masters," he said painfully.
"My father," the girl breathed.
The Judge waved her to silence. Bending forward he said, "And the man who made you write it was--?"
"Bartholomew, o' the Bar B ! " the dying bandit gasped.
Embley saw that the end was near. Hurriedly he read aloud what he had written, and held up by Patch, Mobey scrawled his name on the paper. He watched eagerly while the Judge and the girl did the like, and then with a sighofcontent, dropped back."Bartholomew is--" he began, and said no more.
The lawyer drew the blanket over the face, folded up the paper and bestowed it in his pocket, and turned to the one-eyed man.
"What now?" he asked. "And how are we to name you, my friend?"
"Yu heard what he called me," the other replied with a jerkofhis thumb towards the bed. "That name'll do as well as another."
The Judge glanced again curiously at the other occupied shakedown. "That man sleeps very soundly," he said.
"Yeah, Slick's a good sleeper," Patch replied indifferently, and then, "We gotta be movin'--the other four'll be showin' up any time now, an' they'd make trouble."
"The other four?" Embley queried.
"All that's left o' the White Masks 'cept me--an' Slick," the man explained.
Evidently he had made his preparations, for concealed in the shadow at the endofthe hut they found three horses, saddled and bridled. It was darker now, for the moon was hidden by a big bankofcloud, but there was light enough to show, towering above them, a black bulkofmountain which Phil guessed must be the secondofthe Pinnacles. Their guide, however, gave them little time to study the scenery.
"Gotta hurry," he said in his curious gruff voice. "There's on'y one trail for the first few miles."
When they were mounted he went ahead, the girl following, and Embley bringing up the rear. The pathway, for it was nothing more, led along the faceofthe mountain. The girl shuddered as she remembered that she must have ridden this route blindfold.
Her mind, however, was too full to dwell long even on present danger. The dead bandit's revelation had made it clear why her father had hated and yet suffered Bartholomew, but it did not explain the mysteryofhis disappearance, and it left her still guessing as to Severn. And the queer little outlaw who for no apparent reason was effecting their escape, what part did he play in this tangled web of intrigue and crime? Silently, slumped forward in his saddle, he paced aheadofher, for the road was too narrow and rough to permit more than a walking gait.
They had been riding for more than an hour, a long, gradual descent, when the leader turned off the trail into a little forestofpines, halted and got down.
"Heard somethin'--goin' to scout a few," he said laconically. "Stay here, an' keep quiet."
Without waiting for any reply, he climbed back up the waythey had come and vanished in the gloom. The girl edged her horse over to Embley.
"Do you think he is to be trusted?" she whispered.
"I believe so, and he's our only chance," the Judge replied. "Personally, I am prepared to take any risk to reach Hope in time to foil that scoundrel Bartholomew. If they hang Severn--"
The returnofthe outlaw put an end to the conversation. He was hurrying, and it was evident he brought news.
"They're a-comin'--musta got back sooner," he panted, flinging himself into the saddle. "No use tryin' to hide--they know this country like yu do yore own doorstep. We'll have to stand 'em off; there's a Winchester on yore saddle, Judge, an' I know a good place."
Leaving the trees, they followed him at a gallop across an open space of perhaps a quarter of a mile, and pulled up at the foot of a tall bluff where a numberoffallen fragments from the cliff above offered a rough rampart. Tying the horses behind the biggest of the boulders, and finding Phil a safe position, the two men lay down, rifles ready.
"Cuss that moon," muttered the little man, for the clouds had passed.
"It'll help us more than them," the Judge pointed out. "They can't rush us."
"Shore, but we can't sneak away," the other argued. "There they are. What's the idea?"
"Fl
agoftruce--they want to talk."
Four riders had emerged from the pines, and oneofthem, aheadofthe rest, was waving a white scarf. They came boldly on until they were some two hundred yards away, and then Patch stood up.
"That'll be near enough," he called out. "Anythin' on yore mind?"
"What's the idea, Patch, runnin' off the prisoners thisaway?" the leader asked.
"I got my reasons but I ain't explainin' to yu," the one-eyed man replied coolly. "I'll give yu a bit of advice, though; light a shuck an' get outa the country while the goin's good."
The outlaw laughed. "Feelin' yore oats some, ain't yu?" he sneered. "We'll go when we're good an' ready, but first we want the gal an' the Judge."
"Come an' get 'em," retorted the little man.
"No need to take risks," the other pointed out. "Yu can't git away. All we gotta do is wait till help comes; we've sent for it."
"Who'd yu send--Slick?" Patch asked, and chuckled when he heard the curse the question provoked."Well, what yu goin' to do?" the bandit queried.
"Shoot if yu don't show yore tail mighty sudden," snapped out the one-eyed man, standing clear and levelling his rifle.
With a furious gesture the fellow wheeled his horse, and at the same moment came three spurtsofflame from behind him. Patch regained his shelter untouched, he and the Judge sending shots in return. Apparently they met with no success, for they saw the attackers vanish into the gloomofthe pines. For some time silence reigned.
"All bluff about sendin' for help," Patch remarked. "They ain't got no one to send. Betcher they try an' Injun up on us; there's a cloud a-comin' now."
He was right. In a few moments a veil of vapour misted the moon. Peering through the uncertain light, Patch fancied he could see a dark blotch moving laboriously over the grass. Carefully taking aim, he fired; the blotch seemed to give a spasmodic jerk and then subside. The next moment a loop dropped over his arms and he was flung violently backwards, his gun clattering on the stones beside him. Dazed by the fall, he felt the rope twisted about him; a few turns and he was powerless. A glance showed that his companions were in no better case. Bitterly he realised that the attackers had outwitted him. While oneofthem sneaked up in front, the other three had crept around the open space and come upon them from the rear. The man who had borne the flagoftruce was regarding him with an ugly look.
"Well, Patch, yo're goin' to learn it don't pay to renig," he said.
He drew his pistol on the prostrate prisoner. In another second the bullet would have sped, but a cool, rasping voice intervened:
"'Scuse me, gents, but is this a private scrap, or can anybody horn in?" it said.
The startled outlaws looked up to find the tables turned; two strangers, who had stolen up unperceived, were covering them with levelled pistols.
"Shootin' a man when yu got him hog-tied don't appeal none to me," the newcomer continued. "Reach for the sky, yu coyotes."
Two of the bandits promptly obeyed, but the would-be slayerofPatch, who had his gun out, took a chance and turned it on the stranger. But he was not quick enough; the other's gun crashed and the outlaw went down, sprawling grotesquely. One glance showed that he was dead, and the man who had fired the shot nodded his satisfaction. He then stepped over to the girl.
"Well, Miss Phil, so we've found yu at last," he said.
She gave a cryofjoy. "Why, Rayton, how do you happen to be here?" she asked.
"Severn left me an' Purdyofthe XT to comb the Pinnacles after we failed to find yu at the Cavern," the cowboy explained. "We was shore gettin' disheartened when we heard the shootin' an' p'inted for it." He looked at Embley. "Burn my hide, if it ain't the Judge ! "
In as few words as possible the lawyer outlined the position. The cowboy bit on an oath when he learnedofSevern's danger. "What we better do?" he asked in perplexity.
"We must get out of the mountains as quickly as we can," the Judge said. "Then Miss Masters, myself and this fellow Patch will head for Hope, while you and the XT man will collect your outfits and follow us. We may be in time."
Patch was released, and the other two men were set adrift, unarmed, with the plain intimation that if they remained in the country they would be shot on sight. The journey to the plains was then resumed. The Judge rode in silence, his head down, and was impatientofthe slightest delay. Phil realised that this was due to his anxiety for Severn's safety, and it impressed her. Only once she summoned the courage to ask him a question.
"Is it true that Severn was once known as Sudden, the outlaw?"
"Yes, but he was not an outlaw, he was a deputy-sheriff in the employofthe Governor," the Judge told her. "You don't like Severn, but one day T hope you'll know him better, and realise --what you owe him."
The old man's voice was rather stern and contained more than a hintofreprof. She said no more.
Chapter XXI
ON the morningofSevern's dramatic return to captivity, the town seethed with excitement. This state of affairs provided material for thought of someofthe citizens.
"Suthin's goin' on," Bent remarked to Callahan. "There's men spendin' money on licker that never had none to spend afore, an' I got Greasers at my bar now that I'd 'a' throwed out on their ears yestiddy, knowin' they couldn't pay."
"What possessed Severn to come trapesin back?" asked the storekeeper.
"He's one square fella--he wouldn't run away," Bent told him. "Trouble is, he won't git a straight deal."
"True for ye. Kape an eye on the store while I step up to the `Come Again' an' find out about Lufton."
As the storekeeper went along the street, the signsofunrest were apparent. Little groupsofmen were dotted about arguing, gesticulating, and the grimnessoftheir faces conveyed an atmosphere of menace. He noticed that the nucleusofnearly every gathering consisted of one or two of the Bar B punchers.
"Bart's workin' the town up, an' for what?" he asked himself.
Passing through nhe swing-doorsofthe saloon, he found that rumour for once had spoken truly. At a table in a far corner, apart from the sullen, threatening customers who crowded the bar, Black Bart was entertaining a visitor. This was a thin, shambling figureofa man approaching fifty, dressed in a shiny black coat, trousers stuffed into boot-tops, a collar far from clean, and a cravat which bore abundant evidenceofhaving been too often tied by stumbling fingers. The puffy face, receding jaw, and vacillating eyes told their own story. This was Judge Luf ton, who had obtained office by political wire-pulling, and in spiteofcertain lapses, had hitherto managed to hold it by the same means. Had Callahan been able to hear their conversation, he would have found the answer to his question.
"Yu've happened along just hunky, Judge," Bart was saying, as he filled the visitor's glass. "Yo're the man this town's needin' bad right now."
The manoflaw straightened up in his chair. "As an unworthy servantofthe public, Mr. Bartholomew, I am at the disposalofthe citizens," he said unctuously. "In what way--?"
"There's a criminal in the calaboose here waitin' to be tried," Bart told him. "He's a desperate character--got away last night, but was recaptured by the sheriff." The lie slipped easily from his lips.
"What is the offence?" Lufton inquired.
"He robbed the bank here, shot the manager, an' murdered an old friend o' mine," the Bar B owner returned coolly. "If that ain't enough, there's other charges."
"Providence having given us only one neck apiece, I should say it was more than enough," the Judge said, with ponderous humour. "Why don't you send him to the capital?"
"To escape on the way, or get off with a packed jury 'cause he's got a pull somewheres, huh?" Bart retorted. "No, sir, this town can do its own tryin'. As I told yu, the fella's a hard case. Mebbe it'll surprise yu to hear he's the chap as used to be known as Sudden, the outlaw."
The Judge was surprised; his vacuous eyes opened. "But if I remember rightly, Sudden was supposed to have been in the employ of the Governor," he remarked.
"There yu are," Bartholomew said triumphantly. "That wa
s the excuse for lettin' him off; yu see, he has got a pull."
"If he's still got it--" Lufton began dubiously.
"He ain't," the rancher cut in. "An' the cases against him are plain open an' shut this time. Besides, all yu gotta do is try the fella; the jury finds the verdict. Once that's given, what happens ain't no business o' yourn."
There was a sinister suggestion in the last words which made the other man look up apprehensively.
"You mustn't forget that I represent the law, Mr. Bartholomew," he pointed out, with a rather ludicrous attempt at dignity.
"Ain't that the very reason I'm askin' yu to take charge?" the big man retorted. "Now, see here, Judge; the folks in thisyer town are gettin' all het up over this case--mostof'em lost money m the robbery, an' the fella as was rubbed out was plenty popular. I've got 'em millin' as yet, but if they stampede there'll be a neck-tie party shore as yo're born, an' that won't look too good with a reg'ler judge in the town who might 'a' given the accused a fair trial an' done things legal."
Lufton emptied his glass, replenishing it with a shaky hand. He had experienceofthe West, had seen mob law at work, and knew that in the stateoftension the town was now in, a spark would cause an explosion. Surely, in the interestoflaw and order, it was his duty to step in and see justice meted out to the malefactor. Bartholomew's next remark decided him.
"There'll be a fee o' two hundred dollars," he said. "Course, if yu'd rather we waited for Embley ..."
Lufton winced like a spurred horse; he hated the Desert Edge jurist, a factofwhich Bartholomew was well aware.
"No need for that," he said. "I'll take the case."
"Good for yu," Bartholomew smiled. "I don't mind admittin' that I'm glad. Embley ain't popular round here, he's a pal o' the prisoner, an' there's more than a suspicion that he's in cahoots with him to grab the murdered man's property."
Lufton's eyes gleamed evilly. "Shouldn't be surprised," he sneered. "There's usually mud at the bottom o' still water. When yu startin' the trial?"
"Half an hour's time," replied the rancher. "No sense in waitin', an' it wouldn't be safe anyways. I'll tell Muger to get this place cleared for it."
Sudden Law o The Lariat (1935) Page 17
