Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 09 - Sudden Makes War(1942)

by Oliver Strange

  The disappearance of the doctor caused some consternation, to Bundy in particular. Flint and Lake were despatched to find him, and Garstone seized the opportunity for a quiet word with the foreman.

  “Splitting the dollars four ways doesn’t help our plans,” he commenced meaningly. “We won’t have enough between us to get the Circle Dot, much less the Wagon-wheel.”

  Bundy realized that he was needed. “They ain’t done much,” he said. “Oughta be well satisfied with five thousand apiece.”

  “That or—nothing,” Garstone said deliberately. “You agree?”

  “Shore I do,” was the reply. “Nothin’—for choice.”

  The men under discussion came in at that moment. “Can’t find a trace of him,” Flint reported. “We combed the gorge thorough. All their horses is gone too—they had ‘em picketed further along; looks like someone stampeded ‘em.”

  “That cursed sawbones,” Bundy exploded. “Wish I’d put his light out earlier.”

  “Well, they won’t see the horses again, and it’s a long walk to Rainbow,” the Easterner said. “But it makes one difference: with that fellow at large, we can’t leave Trenton here.”

  Chapter XXI

  Beth sat down; daylight was a very welcome experience after the long lack of it, and she was terribly tired. Soon, however, sex asserted itself, and the task of neatening her appearance occupied her. Sudden too, inured as he was to physical exertion, found a rest acceptable; sitting cross-legged, he rolled a cigarette, wondering the while where the twistings of the tunnel had brought them. On their right towered the great head of Old Cloudy, and far away to the left the sky glowed faintly red, telling of the coming sunrise. Below, a sea of purple mist eddied and swirled.

  The girl was studying this grave-faced, saturnine man who, having saved her life, had not hesitated to risk it again in the presence of another threat. The memory of that fearful leap sickened yet thrilled. What were they to do now? She put the question.

  “Wait till it clears lower down,” he said. “I reckon we’ve both had enough o’ walkin’ blindfold.”

  “I am anxious to get back to my uncle,” she pointed out. “I shall never forgive myself for running away.”

  “Natural enough—yu been raised different,” he excused. “The cave can’t be far off; we’ll find it.”

  “You think they will remain there?”

  “I reckon,” he told her, a wisp of a smile on his lips. “They won’t find that Cache, ‘less Trenton has talked, which ain’t likely.”

  “He did talk—to me, though I don’t think he knew I was there,” she confessed. “I told Mister Garstone.”

  “The devil!” His bleak expression alarmed her.

  “My uncle needed that money urgently,” she explained.

  “So did Dover, an’ he had a right to it, which Trenton did not,” Sudden said sternly. “Red Rufe was Old Man Dover’s brother.”

  The statement shook her, but she was loyal to her kin. “Then I am sure Uncle Zeb was ignorant of it.”

  “For years it has been common knowledge in the town.”

  “My uncle would not do anything dishonourable,” she replied stubbornly.

  “If that goes for his men, mebbe it’s no good tellin’ yu somethin’ else,” he returned.

  “Trenton was shot from behind.” Her eyes flamed. “I don’t believe it; you’re just trying to prejudice me, and whatever I may owe you—

  “Which is nothin’ a-tall,” he broke in. “Ask Doc Malachi.” And as if to end the matter,

  “There’s somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”

  Away on the eastern horizon, the grey had given way to a rosy glow, deepening towards its source, the flame-red disc of the sun, moving majestically up from behind the rim of the world. A growing golden light spread its radiance over the earth, softening the harsh outlines of crag and cliff.

  “It’s wonderful,” the girl breathed.

  “Shore is,” the puncher replied. “Pity we humans can’t grade up to the beauty o’ the universe we live in.”

  “Some of it is ugly,” she protested.

  “On’y where man has interfered,” he said cynically. “All nature has beauty of some kind.”

  “When I came to Rainbow we crossed a hideous desert, nothing but sand, cactus, and desolation.”

  “See that same desert by moonlight an’ it’ll beat the finest picture yu ever saw—if yu ain’t thirsty,” he added whimsically. “That scurry ‘pears to be on the move; we’ll start.”

  Side by side, they set off down the slope. The coarse grass, dotted with patches of greasewood, stunted mesquite, and cactus, made progress difficult and speed impossible. Before they had travelled far, a harsh warning rattle sounded, and from a bush just in front of Beth, a repulsive flat head shot up and swayed back to strike. Almost before she could cry out, a flash and roar came from her companion’s hip and the reptile subsided, its head smashed by a bullet.

  Sudden drew out the empty shell, reloaded, and holstered the weapon. The girl stared at him in amazement.

  “You were—so quick,” she murmured, speaking her thought. He grinned at her, and, in that instant, seemed almost boyish. “No time to waste when Mister Rattler goes on the prod—he’s a fast worker.”

  “I have—to thank you—again,” she said.

  “Shucks,” he replied impatiently. “I sorta got yu into the mess, an’ it’s up to me to look after you.”

  This brought Dover into her mind. She would never understand these Western men; they resented any expression of gratitude, and could even be rude about it.

  He had picked up the still quivering body. “A biggish one. Would you like his rattles?”

  “Heavens, no, I hate snakes,” she shuddered. “They are of no use, surely.”

  “The buttons? In Virginia the niggers make bracelets of ‘em; they’re claimed to keep off evil.”

  “I should have brought one when I came to Arizona,” she said bitterly.

  When they continued the journey, he went in front, “to deal with varmints,” but they encountered no more, and presently reached a level ledge of short grass. By this time the first slanting rays of the sun were splitting the mist into filmy, opalescent veils which rose and melted away, revealing that they were on one side of a deep canyon, the walls of which dropped sheer to a tumbling, riotous river hundreds of feet below. It seemed likely to Sudden that the stream they had jumped in the tunnel might empty itself into this one, so the broken body of Rattray could be returning to Rainbow.

  “Where now?” the girl asked.

  “We’ll follow the canyon, east, an’ get around this hump,” he decided. “Then a twist to the north should fetch us somewhere near the cavern.”

  They tramped on, pausing only to drink at a rivulet which crossed their path. But the hump was succeeded by more high ground, steep and brush-clad, an insuperable barrier which pinned them to the canyon-side. They spoke little, but once or twice, to take her mind from the fatigue he knew she must be enduring, the puncher remarked on the marvel of the painted walls of the gorge, purple, green, brown, and red, brilliant beneath the burning rays of the sun, and the grotesque pinnacled and turreted masses of grey rock which served as a background.

  “Yes, it’s all very lovely,” she sighed, and tried to smile. “But it only proves that even beauty can breed monotony. I’d give it all for something to eat.”

  “We’ll have breakfast right soon,” Sudden told her. “Wait here; I’ll be within call.”

  He plunged into the undergrowth. After a while she heard the crack of his revolver, and he reappeared carrying a young rabbit. She watched interestedly as he lit a fire, deftly skinned the animal, and toasted it on pointed twigs. Again she was impressed with his competency. The meat proved delicious, and the ice-cold water of a nearby rill, completed the meal.

  “You have done that before,” she complimented, as they set out again.

  “Shore,” he agreed. “There’s been times when I’ve had to live
on the country for days. We could have tried that rattler.” She shivered. “But no one eats snakes.”

  “Yu ain’t never known real hunger,” he smiled. “I’ve been told rattlers is pretty good grub.

  In Texas the wild hawgs hunt ‘em, an’ I’ll bet they don’t do that for fun. White men eat frawgs an’ snails, an’ pay high for the privilege.”

  The long looked-for break in the barrier appeared at last in the form of a gully. They turned into it eagerly, but, though taking them in the right direction, it was not—as Sudden soon divined—the one leading to the cave. For one thing, it was narrower, and much cumbered with boulders and rank growth of thorn and cactus, difficult, and at times, painful, to penetrate. Also, they had lost sight of Old Cloudy, a fact Sudden did not like.

  “Take a rest,” he said, pointing to a fiat stone. “I’ll scout around an’ see if I can pick up a landmark.”

  He thrust through the scrub, and by the movement of the foliage she saw that he was climbing the wall of the gully; he seemed to be made of steel. She herself, though the food had given her new strength, was exhausted, and glad enough to sit down. She fell to musing on the few moments of panic which had brought such misfortune upon her, and others. One man had died horribly, and perhaps her uncle, lacking her care, had . She would not think of that. Her thoughts came back to her companion in this astounding adventure. She hoped he would not be long, for while she still regarded him as one of the enemy, he created a curious sense of confidence, and the prospect of facing the wilderness alone was terrifying. Her reverie was shattered by the clink of iron against stone, and an amazed expletive.

  “My God! It’s Beth!”

  The familiar voice brought her to her feet. Garstone was staring as though unable to believe his own eyes. Springing from his saddle, he ran to her.

  “My dear girl, how in the world do you come to be here?” he cried. “Bundy, Miss Trenton has returned to life.”

  The foreman, followed by Lake, rode up. “Mighty glad to see you, Miss Beth,” he said, but there was no warmth in tone or look. “We figured we’d lost you for good an’ all.”

  “We certainly did,” Garstone agreed. “How did you escape?”

  She gave a brief account, and concluded, “We are trying to find the cave.”

  “Where is this fellow?”

  “He went to look for a way.”

  “Get under cover, you two; we’ll nail him when he comes back,” Garstone ordered.

  Too late, the girl remembered that Green belonged to the Circle Dot. “He saved me from death, and must not be touched,” she protested.

  “He forced you to go with him in order to drive a bargain with us.” Garstone invented.

  “Also, he is your uncle’s foe, and therefore should be yours.”

  “Does my life mean so little to you?” she demanded.

  “No, but I am not going to let emotion blind you to the truth. That man is a killer; in all probability it was he who wounded Zeb.”

  “The truth,” she cried. “Is it that Uncle was shot by one of his own men, and that Red Rufe was the brother of old Mister Dover?”

  “Both are lies,” Garstone said evenly. “I see that Green has made good use of his opportunity. You have sealed his fate.”

  She saw it was hopeless. “Where is Uncle Zeb?”

  “Not far away; Flint is taking care of him.”

  Bundy and Lake had already concealed themselves, and their leader was on the point of doing the same when Sudden stepped from the bushes. A glance, and his guns were out, one of them covering the Easterner.

  “Tell yore men to come out, with their paws high,” he ordered. “You have one second to choose between that an’ hell, Garstone!”

  The eyes of the speaker were chips of blue ice, and the threatened man did not hesitate.

  He called out, and the hidden pair emerged, biceps cuddling their ears.

  “Where’s Flint?” Sudden asked the girl.

  “I’ve not seen him,” she replied. “I’m told he is attending my uncle.”

  “An’ yu believe it?”

  It was Garstone who answered. “Of course she does. Isn’t it natural that Trenton should be with his own people?”

  “Who left him with his enemies when it suited their purpose,” was the sarcastic rejoinder.

  “Well, Miss Trenton, yu remainin’ with yore own people?”

  “Certainly. I wish to be with my uncle.”

  Sudden nodded, and backed into the middle of the gully, his guns menacing the three men. “I s’pose yu’ve stolen the dollars, Garstone, but don’t get too brash, mebbe there’s another trick to be tabled yet.”

  The big fellow’s wooden face had changed. “I think, perhaps, you are right,” he replied.

  “We want him alive, Flint.”

  At the same instant, the girl—eyes wide with dismay—uttered a warning, “Behind you.”

  Sudden spun round in a flash, and fired. Flint, who had crept upon him unperceived, had his gun out and was in the act of pressing the trigger; the bullet ploughed up the ground a few yards in front of him, and with a howl he dropped the revolver and grabbed a smashed elbow.

  The puncher swung his weapon back on Garstone, but that astute person had moved to Miss Trenton’s side, and he dared not risk a shot. So, with a scornful laugh, he turned and charged at the wounded man, who, having no stomach for the encounter, jumped away. It was an unlucky move; a gun roared and Flint went down, a bullet in his brain. Sudden sprinted along the gully; he was not pursued.

  “Why the devil did you shoot Flint?” Garstone asked angrily, as they gathered round the fallen man.

  “He run into it—I was tryin’ for Green,” Bundy explained. “Damn raw work—he was a coupla yards off,” Lake jeered. “I thought you could shoot.”

  “I can, an’ I’m ready to prove it.” Threateningly.

  The bearded man was not to be bullied. “Right now, if you want,” he growled.

  Garstone interposed. “Cease squabbling; we’re few enough as it is.”

  “Yeah, three to divide instead o’ four,” Bundy leered.

  “Four in place of five—Miss Trenton takes her uncle’s share’,” the big man corrected, and the look which passed did not escape him. “Speaking of Zeb, we can’t now leave him in the old camp; you two must fetch him.”

  “Like hell we will,” Bundy retorted. “An’ you wait here, I s’pose?”

  “No, that would ruin our plans—we should arrive in Rainbow too late,” was the cool reply. “Also, with that cursed cowpuncher at liberty, we may lose all we’ve gained. Of course, if Trenton should be dead, you can catch us up.”

  The inhuman suggestion was not lost upon the pair of rogues. They did not fancy leaving this fellow with the booty, but holding a poor opinion of his courage, they felt confident that they could force him to keep faith. They agreed, and Garstone rejoined the girl, who was impatiently awaiting him. As he expected, her first question was respecting her uncle.

  “The journey was tiring him—a rest was imperative,” he explained. “Flint stayed too, and the poor fellow was doubtless here to report when that scoundrel Green slew him.”

  “Green fired once only, and crippled Flint’s arm,” she said. “The fatal shot came from Bundy.”

  “Is that so?” he cried, in affected surprise. “Bundy, of course, would be aiming at Green; Flint was unlucky. I didn’t see it; I was so concerned about you—”

  “I noticed it,” she said coldly. “You were saying?

  “I am sending the two men back to bring your uncle.”

  “Don’t we accompany them?”

  “No, we have to go on.” He saw mutiny in her eyes and chin. “It is of vital importance to Trenton, and his wish, that we should get to Rainbow with all speed. You won’t mind spending a day or so in the forest with me, Beth, will you?”

  “I very much mind further separation from Uncle Zeb,” she fenced.

  “It cannot be helped,” he replied, a touch of hardne
ss in his tone. “I have a duty to him, and intend to fulfil it.”

  Which highly virtuous sentiment produced less effect than he had hoped. However, she said no more. Truth to tell, physical weariness, anxiety about the old man who had been good to her, incipient doubts, and a sense of disappointment in one she had almost decided to link her life with, had, for the time, broken the girl’s spirit. Certainly, Garstone’s welcome had been less warm than she expected, in fact, at that first moment of meeting, he might have been sorry to see her. She told herself that this was absurd, that the shock of encountering a person one had mourned as dead would be numbing, but the feeling remained.

  Having disposed of the dead man, Bundy and Lake prepared for their journey. The girl watched them impatiently as they stowed food in the saddle-bags. Fortunately for her peace of mind, she could not hear their conversation.

  “Think we can trust him?” Lake asked.

  “No, but I guess we can handle him if he doublecrosses us,” the foreman replied. “An’ mebbe we’ll catch ‘em.”

  “Totin’ a sick man?” Incredulously.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Lake digested this. “Even then they’ll have a good start.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Bundy grimaced. “Garstone an’ the gal are both from the East. How long afore they lose theirselves?”

  “An’ our money.”

  “We can trail ‘em, an’ there’s going to be on’y two sharin’you an’ me, Babe?” Bundy rasped. “Then the Circle Dot an’ the Wagon-wheel can go to hell. I’m for California. With seventy thousand bucks—between us—we don’t wanta fool with cattle.”

  Lake regarded him through narrowed lids; he had noted the interjected words, and they gave material for thought. But all he said was, “Sounds good to me.”

  When they had gone, Bundy having pointed out, tongue in cheek, the route Garstone should take, the latter returned to his companion. He was in a much more cheerful mood.

  “Well, that’s that,” he said, “I’ll get a fire started, and I hope you can cook—we’ll have to fend for ourselves. This isn’t the way I hoped we’d begin housekeeping together, but we’ll get along.”