Sudden Rides Again (1938) s-4

by Oliver Strange

  Sudden thought little of the warning, but later he was to remember it. The bandit chief was pacing savagely up and down. At the sight of the puncher he stopped and snapped:

  "Where did you spend last night?"

  Sudden looked surprised. "In Dirk's," he said. "Takin' the wool off some o' yore lambs who fancied they could play poker; it cost them near a hundred good dollars to learn different. Easy pickin's, I'm tellin' yu."

  "How long were you there?"

  "All the evenin'. Cashed in after midnight--got tired o' slaughterin' the innocents--an' hit the hay. What's bitin' yu?"

  Through the slits in the mask, the fierce eyes bored into the puncher's impassive face.

  "I've been robbed," Satan said vehemently. "You alone knew those men were due from Bosville."

  "Yu didn't tell me when or which way they'd come. Ain't they arrived?"

  "Yes, on foot, with a tale of being held up, money and weapons taken, and horses driven off."

  Sudden whistled. "Sounds a bit lame, but mebbe they're feelin' thataway, having walked," he grinned, and got a glare which did not disturb him. "S'pose they've cached the stuff--"

  "Then why come back at all?" Satan interjected.

  "If they can make their story stick, they'd have nothin' to fear from yu."

  The masked man shook his head; conceit would not permit the thought that any of his underlings would dare so far.

  "Another thing, I reckon yu ain't the on'y subscriber to that Bosville paper. Some fellas may've seen it, an' guessed right."

  "I doubt if there is another copy within twenty miles. You seem very anxlous to pin the blame on someone."

  Sudden's reply was a question, "Did the hold-up happen before midnight?" and when the other nodded, he went on, "What more do yu want? There's on'y one o' me, an' twenty of yore own men can tell yu where I was. Have some sense."

  With an air of disgust, he reached for his "makings" and stepped back just as a gun roared and a bullet chipped the stone wall behind the spot where he had been standing. In a flash his own weapons were out, one covering the bandit, the other the picture, wreathing smoke from which showed whence the shot had come.

  "What the hell's the meanin' o' that?" he grated.

  The masked man stood motionless. "I don't know," he said calmly. "Silver!"

  The uncouth attendant slid into view, a smoking pistol in one shaking hand. "I was just cleanin' her an' she done went off," he stammered. "I warn't meanin' no harm."

  "You might have killed one of us; I'll deal with you later," his master said threateningly. "Quite an accident, you see, Sudden. The lout knows nothing of firearms, but will carry one."

  "Yeah," Sudden replied, and stepped nearer the painting. "Why, if yu ain't lucky; the bullet came right through the muzzle o' the gun so the picture ain't hurt none; can't see the hole less yu look close."

  Satan could detect no raillery in the voice and again found himself debating whether he was dealing with a clever man or a fool. He expressed his surprise at the remarkable coincidence.

  "Comin' back to cases, I'm reckoned pretty useful at readin' sign," Sudden said. "The scene o' the holdup might tell me somethin'--if I can find it."

  "The men said it took place where the road from the west gate divides," Satan replied.

  "Ain't been so far in that direction," the puncher said easily. "I'll let yu know if I hit on anythin'." On his way out, he slapped Silver on the shoulder and cried, "Cheer up, Beautiful, a miss is as good as a mile, yu know."

  Which boisterous exit left the bandit deeper in doubt than ever, and did not improve his temper. With a bitter oath, he vented his spleen on the one object available.

  "Come here, you clumsy clown," he called. "What possessed you to fire without the signal?"

  Silver lumbered forward, his ungainly form trembling. "Guessed he was goin' for his gun," he quavered. "Was scared he'd git you."

  "Get me?" was the retort. "Did you think I was asleep? He's fast, but I could beat him. You have made me ridiculous --he was laughing at me, damn him. Another break like that and Muley shall take the flesh from your ugly, misshapen carcase and feed what is left to the coyotes. Get out of my sight, you freak."

  Long ago he had learned that reference to his deformities cut the poor brute to the heart, and he delighted in the use of the knowledge. Turning his back contemptuously, he failed to see a look which would have made him thoughtful.

  Chapter XVII

  Satisfaction at the Double K over the rebuff to the rustlers was not as great as might have been expected. There had always been a friendly rivalry between the two ranches, and the fact that the Twin Diamond had undoubtedly scored, though it was to the Double K's advantage, rankled with both owner and outfit. Some of the latter had another reason for not exulting unduly, and of these the foreman was the most disgruntled.

  "Can't figure it nohow," he said to Turvey. "Somebody must 'a' put them lunkheads wise. Jeff'll be mad."

  "No blame to us anyway," the little man replied. "Our boys didn't find 'em. If there's bin a leak it's from Hell City. Reckon Green could 'a' had anythin' to do with it?"

  "He dasn't show his face at the Twin Diamond, an' after helpin' to steal the herd he wouldn't be likely to hand 'em back to us."

  "That's so," Turvey agreed. He did not know of the frame-up. "He's in Hell City, I s'pose, an' cherishin' no feelin' of affection for us. Me, I'd ruttier he was danglin' from a tree. How in blazes he got away from three o' yu "

  "Oh, can the chatter," Steve said angrily. "That trick o' shootin' out the light gave him a chance an' he took it. He's Jeff's man now an' that makes us safe from him."

  "Does it work both ways?" Turvey leered.

  "I didn't say that," was the reply.

  The subject of their conversation cropped up again at supper. With the object of stirring up Frosty, one man asked his neighbour if he had seen any more of Green?

  "No, nor I don't hanker to," came the answer. "Last timewas the night o' the raid an' he was pumpin' lead at me plenty eager."

  Frosty surveyed the rotund form of the speaker disdainfully. "Couldn't 'a' bin him, he'd not miss a mark like yu with eyes shut," he said.

  "If it warn't him why did he skip?" the stout one argued. "Would yu wait if the Ol' Man promised to stretch yore neck?"

  The other hesitated; Keith's reputation for keeping his word was well established. "It was his hoss," he evaded.

  "Mebbe, with another fella straddling it," Frosty retorted Lagley cut in. "Green told me hisself no one else could ride the black. He was as guilty as hell, an' yu know it."

  The cowboy stood up, his face suddenly stern. "What yu mean, I know it?" he asked, and his voice had an edge. "If yo're tryin' to rope me up with the rustlin', yu an' me'll have a ll'l argument, foreman or no."

  Lagley's gesture was one of impatience. "I didn't mean nothin' o' the sort. Yu talk like a kid. Where's the sense gettin' sore over a cussed outlaw who oughta be swingin' in a loop?"

  "He's my friend."

  "They say a fella is knowed by the company he mixes with," Turvey sneered.

  "If there was any truth in that yu'd be damned lonely," Frosty snapped.

  A black scowl was all the answer he received. Good tempered as he usually was, when the white-haired puncher went "on the prod," none of the outfit was anxious to get in his way.

  * Silver was in a seventh heaven. Passing along the street, the woman Anita had smiled at him from the entrance to her abode, and, when he paused in sheer bewilderment, invited him to come in and talk with her.

  "It is cool inside, and I am lonely," she made excuse.

  The experience was a novel one; usually members of the other sex shrank from him in fear or repulsion. This fact, of which he was bitterly conscious, rendered him painfully shy whenever a female was even in sight. Anita was not so beautiful as Belle Dalroy, but she was young and comely. For a moment he hesitated, glancing right and left. Was she playing a joke upon him? Well, if so, he had it in his power to make it
an expensive amusement. The thought gave him courage, and he went in. The squalid place set him more at ease, and he perched himself on a stool.

  "You like whisky?" she asked.

  Silver did; it made him forget that he was not as other men. His small, deep-set eyes glittered as she poured out nearly a full glass, handed it to him, and sat down.

  "Ain't you drinkin'?" he asked, and grinned when she said the spirit burned her throat. "It don't hurt mine," he boasted. "The more it bites, the better I'm pleased." He tilted the tumbler, absorbing half the contents at a gulp. "That's the stuff; makes a man o' one. Try some." He emptied the glass as he spoke and held it out. This time she filled it.

  "I don't want to be a man," she smiled. "You are one already, important, a friend of the Chief."

  "Friend?" he repeated, and his expression was hardly one of affection. Then, "So you reckon me a man--like the rest?"

  "Not like the rest," she said softly. "You have the strength of three and--I admire strong men."

  Silver drank again and laughed coarsely. "you shore picked a loser in Pedro."

  "True, he was weak," she said carelessly, and he did notdetect the tremor in her voice. "I had almost forgotten him. The Chief would not dare do that to you."

  The liquor and flattery were beginning to take effect. "He threatens me," he growled. "Me, that could break him wlth my two hands, easy as snappin' a stick."

  His great paws rose in the air and dropped suddenly, portraying the act with such savage realism that the woman shivered. She was playing with something worse than fire, but she did not falter.

  "He would not have you whipped," she said quietly, "but he might keep you shut up, as he does one other."

  "What you know o' that?"

  "Nothing, save his existence, and that he is seen only by the Chief, and you, who take him food."

  "Why do you ask? Is this fella anythin' to you?" the dwarf asked thlckly.

  She laughed at him. "A man I've never seen? No, my friend, put it down to a woman's curioslty. Don't you like my whisky?"

  She passed the bottle and he helped himself liberally. "Best not meddle with what don't concern you," he warned. His covetous eyes dwelt on her. "You an' me'd make a good team," he said. "Allus wanted a woman o' my own."

  Anita shrugged. "you travel too fast," she replied. "I'm not a dance-hall drab, and I'd never take up with one who wouldn't trust me completely."

  Silver was silent. He had to choose between a man who mocked him as a monstrosity and a woman who seemed blind to his physical defects and admired the one attribute on which he prided himself--his strength. In some such way his drink-bemused brain reasoned it out. He could take her, she was at his mercy, and since the passing of Pedro, she had no friends, but mere possession would not satisfy his craving; she must come to him willingly.

  Inwardly trembling, but outwardly calm, the woman watched him as might a desperate gambler the spinning wheel which spelled riches or ruin. She saw the huge claw- like fingers open and reach for her.

  "It's a bargain, girl," Silver said, and breathed heavily. "You an' me--"

  She swayed back. "You must have patience, amigo," she murmured, but her smile was kind. "Women like to be wooed, you know, and besides, you have not trusted me--yet. There is still some whisky; drink to our future."

  With a raucous chuckle of triumph, Silver clutched the bottle, drained and flung it to the floor. Anita knew that the act signified surrender, but she had the wisdom to wait. He bent towards her, and in a low rumble, like far distant thunder, said: "There is a fella--I dunno who he is, but the Chief calls him his `ace in the hole,' an' he'd ruther lose an eye than let him go."

  "What's the poor devil done?"

  "Ain't a notion, suthin' bad, likely."

  "His `ace in the hole,' " Anita mused. "That means he's saving him for some special purpose. I'd like to see this man; ake me with you one time, Silver."

  The massive shoulders shook with mirth. "I ain't no wizard, glrl. To do that I'd have to get you through the Chief's room, there's no other way 'less yo're a bird," Silver wheezed, and anxious to prove that she was asking the impossible, went on to explain that the captive was confined in a cavern below Satan's, and only to be reached by padlocked trap-doors. "He keeps the keys hisself," he finished.

  Her face fell. "But he goes away sometimes," she urged.

  "An' takes 'em with him," was the reply. "Mebbe he won't come back one time an' that hombre'll just starve."

  "A terrible death."

  Hell, we all gotta go, sooner or later, but you an' me'll have a good innin's first."

  He stood up, staggering a little on his stumpy legs, and made an awkward attempt to seize her. She evaded him easily enough and shook her head.

  "Not yet, amigo, I am only half won," she smiled. "The Chief will be missing you. Come again--if you wish."

  Greatly to her relief, he went docilely enough; the reminder that his dreaded master might be waiting somewhat sobered him. When his lurching, tipsy figure had disappeared, she sank down on a stool.

  "God, what a weapon to have to use," she muttered, and fell to thinking. Had she found a way of striking at the man who had flogged her lover to death and humiliated her? It seemed so, but she could see little hope of using her information.

  "That brute has no brain, and fears his keeper," she decided.

  Alone, she was impotent. She must find a man wo was not afraid of the bandit chief, and where, in Hell City, was he to be found? With knitted brow, she puzzled over the problem, and then the strange cowboy who had buried her dead occurred to her. He appeared to be on good terms with the Red Mask, and yet ..

  "At least, he would not betray me," she told herself.

  * Sudden's survey of the scene of the hold-up produced little. The ambushing party, he reported, consisted of four riders--he had doubled the number--and having obtained the money, they had taken the northern trail. The latter was true, but he omitted to mention that after a couple of miles, they had swung south in the direction of the Twin Diamond. The Chief received the particulars with indifference.

  "It is, after all, a small matter," he said. "I was annoyed at the time because I do not like my plans to miscarry, but ..."

  Sudden, suspecting something behind this attitude, spent the next two days in the town. He would have liked to see Frosty or Merry but it was too dangerous; he had more than a dim suspicion that if he rode out, he would be followed.

  It was on the second evening, as he was returning to the saloon, that a whispered invitation from the darkness took him into Anita's dwelling. A guttering candle served only to show the discomfort of the place.

  "I gotta thank yu for the word about Butch," he said. "It was real useful."

  "I couldn't let you be tricked," she replied quietly.

  It was a different woman to the one who had cajoled Silver. Anita divined that her present guest was not one to allow his senses to be deadened by drink or snared by desire; he would be more likely to appreciate frankness.

  "What are you to this mountebank who hides behind a mask?" she asked.

  "Just one of his men," was the reply. "Holm' up, like the rest of 'em." - Her gestute showed that she was dissatisfied with the answer. "You may have reasons for hiding, but you are lifferent," she said. "Why does Satan want you killed?"

  Sudden was silent for a moment. This woman had rendered him a service, but she might be playing a part, and his position in this den of desperadoes was too precarious for further risk.

  "News to me," he said stolidly.

  "Butch was sent for on purpose," she stated. "You don't :rust me, and I cannot blame you, but I am going to put my cards on the table. Odd as it may seem, I cared for Pedro--he was my one friend, and yet, it was because of me he died. I have vowed to avenge him and am ready to run any hazard."

  In the frail light of the flickering candle he saw her sombre eyes gleam and realized that she was in earnest. But what could a mere woman do against one who was all-powerful? She read so
mething of his thought.

  "You are thinking I am mad," she went on. "That a weak creature like myself cannot injure him. But I have already dealt a blow, for you are alive, and I know of another and greater one that will wound him far more deeply than the loss of his stolen steers, or the plunder from Bosville."

  "How do you know these things?"

  She laughed contemptuously. "Men drink--and talk. If Satan wants his secrets kept, he should ban liquor and women from Hell City."

  "Why are yu tellin' me?"

  "It is something I cannot do myself, and you do not like the beast any better than I do." She raised her head as she spoke, looking him squarely in the face, but learned nothing. "You should win at any card game. Listen." She gave him the gist of her interview with Silver, ending, "Who is this man, and why is he buried alive?"

  "I reckon we'll have to ask him that, ma'am," Sudden said. Instantly her face lit up with a fierce joy. "you'll help me?" she cried. "Then we shall succeed."

  "I'm obliged for yore good opinion, ma'am," the puncher said a trifle ironically. "All we gotta do is steal the key from Silver or his master, get 'em both out'n the road ..."

  "Hopeless," she decided, and sat, her face cupped in her hands, thinking. "Silver said there was no other way save for a bird," she mused. "What did that mean?"

  "Plain enough," was the reply. "All these caverns have holes for light an' air."

  "That will be it," Anita said eagerly. "Could a man clever with a rope climb up?"

  "In the daylight, mebbe, but at night he'd need the eyes an' claws of a cat," Sudden told her. "Allasame, it seems to be the on'y chance. That big ape might win out--he's built for it."

  "He fears the whip and would turn traitor," she said.

  "I'll look it over in the mornin'," the puncher promised.

  In the seclusion of his room at the saloon, he dwelt again on the strange story. The mysterious prisoner could not be one of Bleke's men; the body of the first had been returned, and Sudden himself had accounted for the second. Satan's "ace in the hole"--the phrase recurred to him; if indeed the unknown was a winning card in the bandit's crooked game, he must be spirited away, and hidden--where?