Sudden Plays a Hand (1950)

by Oliver Strange

  `Boys, this is Miss Darrell, my--guest,' the nester said.

  The announcement produced surprise, mingled in one or two cases, with a half-shamed expression. Sudden surmised that the girl had been discussed in the bunkhouse, and probably allotted a less complimentary status. Quilt, the oldest, spoke for all.

  `We're mighty glad to meetcha, ma'am,' he said, and a murmur of assent came from the others. Her `Thank you' was almost inaudible, and her frozen features failed to conjure up even the semblance of a smile. `An' we shore hope you'll make a long stay, ma'am.' This from a tall, black-haired cowboy whose handsome face was marred by an habitual sneer.

  `I'm obliged,' Drait said, and turned to his wife. `That was Beau Lamond, the dandy o' the outfit; Quilt there is foreman, an' has the levelest head; next to him is Smoky, a good cowhand but a gamblin' fool--he'd sooner bet an' lose than not bet a-tall; the other two are the Horns, Long an' Short; they're twins--one of 'em beat his brother into the world by about twenty minutes, an' they're still arguin' which it was. Now you know 'em all, so let's eat; we can talk afterwards.'

  The next half-hour was devoted almost exclusively to what, for men who have been in the open all day, is the serious business of feeding. Juicy steaks, swimming in rich brown gravy, with roast ponatoes, bread, and a dried-apple pie, the whole washed down with mugs of steaming black coffee disappeared magically before the onslaught of these sons of the saddle. Sudden leaned back in his chair with a sigh of satisfaction, and smiled at his host.

  `That's my best meal for many a day,' he said. `Yu shore have a fine cook.'

  `We know, but don't advertise it, Jim.'

  Lindy, clearing the table, grinned delightedly.

  When she had retired, Drait rapped on the table.

  `I'm goin' to tell you the story o' Shadow Valley,' he began. `Less'n a year ago, a fella named Rawlin bought the land fromthe State, built an' furnished this place, an' settled down with his wife an' three kids, the eldest a boy o' sixteen. Rawlin was from Kansas, a harmless critter, but with a streak o' obstinacy; he was warned he'd have trouble but wouldn't listen.

  ` "It's my land an' I've a right to stay on it," he argued.

  `He'd fetched in some twenty head o' stock. Well, there was feed in the valley for many more'n that, an' all round for miles the range was free--but not for him. A few months went by an' nothin' happened. Then he gets an unsigned paper tellin' him to pull his freight, carries it to the sheriff, an' is advised to obey. He took no notice. Two weeks later, in broad daylight, eight masked men rode up the valley, returning in about half an hour. Rawlin asked what they wanted.

  ` "We've been lookin' over yore herd," one of 'em said. "Nine unbranded calves in it, an' the ear-notches show that they belong to ranches around here."

  ` "I ain't got no calves," Rawlin replied. "Somebody must 'a' put 'em there."

  ` "You bet somebody did," the fella said. "Stealin' cattle is a hangin' matter in these parts, Rawlin, but we're givin' you a chance."

  `They ordered him to hook up his wagon, pack his family into it, with whatever few possessions they had room for, an' drift. While he was arguin', the boy--who had been huntin' at the end o' the valley--came runnin' up, an' one o' the skunks shot him. They escorted Rawlin' damn near to Midway, an' left him with a warnin' that if he tried any come-back, he an' his would be wiped out.

  `He went to the sheriff, an' was asked if he could identify any o' the visitors? He couldn't--all of 'em had their faces covered an' rode unbranded bosses. Havin' made shore o' this, the sheriff went with Rawlin to the valley. They found the boy's body an' his rifle, which had an empty shell in it.

  ` "Proves he fired first an' makes it a case o' self-defence," was Camort's reasonin'. "I can't do a thing. You oughta took my advice."

  `I met Rawlin in Midway; he was broke--heart an' pocket; all he had was in this venture. I bought the land, house, furniture, an' stock, at his price; the cattle went when they took away the planted calves. Now, the murderin' curs are after me, but they've another kind o' man to deal with. The unsigned warnin's have happened along, an' today--Eddie. I'm stayin' put, an' fightin' back with everythin' I got until these greedy swine have learnt their lesson.'

  The harsh voice ceased. There had been no attempt at oratory; it was just a man, making a plain statement of fact, but the hard, cold eyes glinting through narrowed lids, and knotted jaw muscles, told of passion sternly controlled. Presently he went on: `I ain't tryin' to drag you boys into my quarrel, but it's on'y fair no tell you how things are. If any or all o' you want yore time, I'll think no worse o' you. Remember, throwin' in with me may mean bein' outlawed, because the cattlemen own the Law, such as it is. If you wanta think it over, tell me in the mornin'.'

  He leaned back in his chair, fashioned a fresh smoke, and waited, but not for long. Quilt was the first to speak.

  `I'm stayin' with my job, Nick, an' thanks for the offer.'

  `Me too,' Smoky said. Next to the foreman in point of age, he was of medium build and placid appearance. Only those who knew him well were aware that when roused he could develop all the attributes of a tiger-cat.

  `I dunno what this bean-pole is aimin' to do, but I'm stickin's to you like yore skin, Nick, come hell or high water,' Shorty announced.

  The bean-pole replied in kind. `Then I gotta come in; can't have the fam'ly represented by half a man.'

  `It's the useful half anyways--the rest is just dead wood,' the smaller twin snapped back.

  Lamond's lazy voice interrupted. `You can count on me.' Only the girl at the head of the table noted that his eyes were fixed meaningly, and not for the first time, on her.

  Drait's relief was evident; save in one case--that of the last to speak--he knew these men well, and could rely on them. `I'm mighty glad,' he said. `It's a big gamble, with our lives as the stake, but with you boys backin' me, we may win out. Those killers o' children will have six men to handle 'stead o' one pore of pilgrim.'

  Sudden had listened attentively to the story, and studied each speaker in turn. A whispered word to Yorky was answered by an emphatic nod.

  `Mebbe I'm wrong, but I figure there's eight of us,' he said. Drait looked up quickly. `Meanin' you an' yore pal will chip in?' he asked.

  `Why not?' was the cool reply. `We're adrift, an' tired of it, but we ain't joinin' just for amusement. I'm peacable by nature, but a cowardly murder gets my dander up. So if yu'll have us...'

  For the first time since they had returned to the valley, the nester's eyes lost their dourness. `You'd better believe I'll have you,' he cried, and his tone said more than mere words. `There's somethin' else I gotta mention--them five hosses I fetched in. The big one is Bull Bardoe's. I met up with the gent yestiddyafternoon; he had me covered an' meant to get me, but--I got him, though he didn't miss oy much.' They could all see the livid mark on his cheek. `The other four carry the S P iron, but Bardoe's men were usin' 'em. They ambushed, an' were about to give me a dance on nothin' when Jim an' Yorky kinda interfered. A fella named Lanty seemed to be in charge. Know him?'

  `Yeah,' Quilt growled. `He's Bull's right-hand man, an' that's the on'y right nhing about him. Hope you swung the lot.'

  `Shore would if I'd knowed 'bout Eddie,' Drait said heavily.

  `Bardoe is no loss anyway,' Quilt shrugged. `Just a double-crosser, workin' with the cattlemen an' robbin' 'em at the same time.' He looked at the clock. `Time to hit the hay, fellas.'

  As they filed out, with a `So long, Nick,' and a shy 'Goodnight, ma'am,' to the lady, Drait said to his foreman, `See that Jim an' Yorky are comfortable; but for them, you'd all be ridin' the grub-line tomorrow.'

  When they had gone, Drait looked at the girl, white-faced, impassive as a statue. He had said nothing about her, and though this was a relief, it had not lessened her hostility. He was saving himself, she decided; his men, rough and primitive as they were, would have despised him.

  `They all stood by me,' he reflected, deep appreciation in his voice.

  `To keep their jobs.'


  The sneer angered him. `Evidently loyalty means little to you. What are you goin' to do?'

  The question stirred her. `Have I any choice?' she retorted. `Why did you bring me to this place of hatred, violence, and crime?'

  `Eddie was a surprise to me too,' he said sombrely. `I did the best I could. You are clothed, housed, have a servant to do yore work, and--I've given you my name.'

  `The name of a murderer, liable to be hanged or shot as an outlaw,' she said passionately.

  His face did not change, but his tone became harsh. `You can live in Midway until my bein' shot or hanged gives you back yore freedom, or remain here,' he replied. `An' I don't care one solitary damn which you choose.'

  Chapter III

  Drait breakfasted alone, and gave an instruction to Lindy. `Miss Darrell's had a tryin' time lately so don't disturb her. She needs rest.' The Negress nodded understandingly. `Mighty purty gal, but she ain't lookin' noo brash.'

  `Take care of her,' he said.

  At the bunkhouse Quilt got his orders : `Have lead-ropes fixed to those hosses I brought in; I'm returnin' 'em this mornin'. Two men, with rifles, must guard the valley ennrance --we can't afford to be caught nappin' again; the rest can continue the closing o' the other end. I'd like for you to come with me, Jim.'

  By the time they had fetched their saddles from the house and reached the corral, Smoky and Shorty had done the first job. Rope in hand, the nester stepped through the gate and stood watching the circling band of nearly two dozen excited animals. Then his lariat snaked out and the loop fell over the head of a sturdy piebald. The thrower instantly dug his high heels in and flung his weight back on the rope. The tightening of the noose told the horse that resistance was useless, and it trotted demurely behind its captor.

  `Neat work,' Sudden commented. `Me, I'm a lazy devil.'

  He gave a low whistle, and a great black chasing round with the others, stopped abruptly, whickered, wheeled, and came pacing to where the puncher stood. Drait studied it with the appreciative eye of an expert.

  `He's a beaut,' he said. `I'll swap any two in the corral.'

  `Yu got some good ones, but I wouldn't part with Nigger for the whole bunch,' Sudden replied.

  `I didn't expect you would,' Nick said. `Hope you ain't over-tamed him, or he'll be stole.'

  `Go to put a hand on him, but--watch out.'

  Drait stepped forward and reached. The horse's ears flattened, the lips curled back, and the great teeth clashed within an inch of the outstretched arm. Then, with a squeal of rage, it reared; a moment and those terrible fore-hoofs would have descended on the nester's head with the force of pile-drivers.

  `Steady, boy,' Sudden warned.

  The effect was magical; the ears became erect again, the teeth covered, the wildness went from the eyes, and the threatening hoofs dropped softly back on the ground. Drait caught up a breath he had lost.

  `Killer, huh?' he said.

  `He could be,' the puncher admitted, and told only a half-truth, 'He knows his friends--an' mine.'

  The two cowboys accompanied them to the entrance; they were taking the first spell as sentries.

  `Not much for the men to do,' Drait remarked. `I ain't got any cattle yet.'

  They had reached the frowning buttresses flanking the outlet, and Sudden pulled up, his interest aroused by what he saw.

  `There's plenty work here worth doin',' he said. `Why not close the gap with a stone wall--hosses could drag the larger rocks into position--an' have heavy double doors, secured by bars, in the centre. It'd stop cattle from gettin' out, an' visitors from comin' in without permission.'

  Drait slapped his thigh. `Jupiter! that's an inspiration, Jim,' he cried. `Shorty, fetch Quilt; we'll set about it right away.'

  The foreman was soon on the scene, and Drait explained the idea. Quilt was enthusiastic.

  `Bully,' he beamed. `It's up to us to make a good job of a good notion, Jim. We'll build her plenty high, with a platform inside so we can look over,' he chuckled. `Leave it to me, Nick; we're startin' now; t'other end can wait.'

  Taking the lead horses, Drait and his companion went on their errand. They had gone less than a mile when the nester twitched the loop from the Bardoe animal, and smote it across the rump.

  `Mebbe find its way home, an' if it don't, I ain't carin',' he said. `What you think o' the outfit?'

  `A fine crowd, I'd say.'

  `Hand-picked--brought 'em with me.'

  `Includin' Lamond?'

  `Why, no, he's come recent--joined me just after I bought the valley.'

  `At his suggestion, or your'n?'

  `He was out of a job, an' asked for one,' Drait explained. `Know anythin' against him?'

  `Never seen or heard o' the fella,' was the careless reply. `He just don't seem to fit in.'

  Too much of a dude for them rough-necks o' mine,' Nick laughed. `They've been raised on raw meat.'

  Sudden laughed too, and dropped the subject. He noticed they were travelling north, and asked a question. `We'll get rid o' these broncs first off,' Drait told him. `The hombre yo're goin' to see to is the foreman, an' he's runnin' the ranch till the owner can be found. 01' Sam Pavitt passed in his checks 'bout a year ago, leavin' all his property to his on'y child--a daughter, or her issue. She ran away near twenty-five years back--he was a hard man to live with, by all accounts-an' never returned. His lawyer is tryin' to trace her.'

  `Shouldn't be difficult unless she's left the state, or is dead,' Sudden remarked. `I understand they got mighty little to go on. One letter from her was found among Sam's papers; it told that her husband--the cause o' the trouble atween 'em--had passed on, but called him by his front name only, an' mentioned a kid named "Frankie." The address had been torn off, so I guess she never had a reply. It's a fine ranch, an' I guess Gilman is featherin' his nest a-plenty.'

  `Crooked, huh?'

  `A corkscrew would look straight by the side of him.'

  The first few miles took them over scrub-dotted plain, and no trail being visible, Sudden guessed they were making a short cut. Then they emerged upon a rough wagon-road, pitted with innumerable hoofprints. Drait jerked a thumb to the right.

  `Leads to Midway,' he said. `We'll be samplin' it later.'

  They turned left, and after a while--to Sudden's surprise--the road began to improve; trees and brush had been cut down or uprooted to make it wide enough for two vehicles to pass, and attempts made, in bad spots, to level the surface, but there were signs that the wilderness was encroaching again.

  `Ol' Sam had nhis done an' damn near lost most of his riders over it--cowboys don't cotnon to road-makin',' Drait informed. `Gilman ain't takin' risks, seemin'ly.'

  A gradual rise of another mile brought them to the end of the road and a wide strip of open country covered with crisp, brown grass. In the midst of it, a group of buildings, and behind, a background of low, tree-swathed hills.

  `Nice location,' Sudden commented.

  `You said it,' his companion agreed. `Good ranch-house, lashin's o' the best feed, an' plenty water,' he grinned. `If I owned this place, damn me if I wouldn't turn honest.'

  `It would certainly be a temptation,' Sudden smiled.

  As they neared the ranch-house, a stocky, powerful man came out, and, leaning against one of the supports of the veranda roof, watched them ride up. There was no welcome in the bunton-like eyes, set too closely no a beak of a nose, and the thin lips, clamped to the butt of a black cigar, did not suggest amiability.

  `What's yore errand?' he asked brusquely, as they drew rein. `Fetched back four broncs wearin' the S P iron, an' I want a receipt for 'em,' Drait replied. `How come they're in yore hands?' `Four o' Bardoe's toughs were ridin' 'em, an' not bein' satisfied with their explanation, an' for another reason, I set 'em afoot.'

  `What was the other reason?'

  `They tried to hang me.'

  The man on the veranda scowled. `Didn't it occur to you I might 'a' loaned them hosses?'

  `That didn't occu
r to them till it was too late to put it over,' the nester retorted. `Besides, I figured you wouldn't be quite so all-fired friendly with the 8 B outfit.'

  He got an oblique glance from the shifty eyes. `An' that's correct,' Gilman growled. `Back in a minute.' He went through a door, and presently returned with a slip of paper. `I'm obliged,' he said. 'Anythin' Bardoe gits his claws on is apt to be a total loss. I'll give you a word of advice, Drait; if you've fallen foul o' Bull, hit the trail; you've no chance here, anyways. Don't forget what happened to Rawlin.'

  `I ain't likely to,' Nick replied. Was Bardoe in that?'

  `If I knew, d'you think I'd tell you--'specially in front of a witness?' Gilman asked ironically, with a measuring look at the other visitor.

  `Jim Green--he's ridin' for me,' Drait introduced. `Jim, this is Jack Gilman, foreman here.' The two men nodded `Any news o' the missin' heir?'

  `No, damn it, I wish they'd git the business settled,' was the reply. `Got any cattle in Shadow Valley yet?'

  Drait shook his head. `What I bought from Rawlin were stolen.'

  The foreman's expression of concern seemed genuine. `Too bad,' he said. `Come an' see me before you buy any more; mebbe I can save you some coin.'

  `I'll remember that,' Drait replied. `An' in case there's any doubts floatin' around, you can pass the word that the Valley belongs to me, an' I'm stayin' in it.'

  Gilman sent an ugly look after them as they rode away. `Stayin' in it?' he repeated. `Mebbe yo're right; young Rawlin is doin' the same. Wonder where he picked up that two-gun hombre? He ain't no pilgrim, an' his hoss warn't born this side o' the Border. Needs keepin' an eye on, that fella.'

  Which thought, curiously enough, was in the minds of both his visitors.

  `Well, what d'you think of him?' Nick asked.

  Sudden's grimace was expressive. `I wouldn't, 'less I had to,' he answered.

  `Same here, but I'll be interested to know how he's goin' to save me money, an' I'm willin' to bet I'll save more if I don't let him.'

  `I ain't takin' yu,' Sudden laughed. `Where we goin' now?'

  `The licentious an' thoroughly disreputable settlement of Midway,' Drait replied. `An' it ain't called that because it's halfway between Heaven an' the other place, for Midway is next door to Hell.'