Sudden The Range Robbers (1930) s-9

by Oliver Strange

  `Some fellers can freeze on to the dollars,' he laughed. `Me, I never could nohow.'

  Green listened, throwing in a remark now and then, but in no wise returning the other's confidences. Only once he asked a direct question: `Ever run across a chap named Webb, a big, beefy feller with red hair?' `Don't remember any such. What was he?' `A damn thief--but he called himself a cattleman.'

  The rasp in the voice made West look at the speaker. `I'm guessin' he ain't a friend o' yores,' he hazarded.

  'Yo're right,' responded Green. `I'm aimin' to make cold meat of him someday.'

  Night was coming on when they reached their destination and the town was showing signs of emerging from the stagnation of the day. Green left his packet at the honel, and having arranged for beds, he and his companion were free to `take in the town.' Their first call was at the stores, for both were in need of tobacco, and the old proprietor greeted them with an odd look of surprise. All he said, however, was, `Found that gold-mine yet?'

  The cowpuncher shook his head and grinned. `Them tools o' yores has been plumb unlucky so far,' he said. `But the fishhooks came in right handy. Any news?'

  `Well, I dunno as there is. The marshal has bin shootin' off his mouth about a feller who was reckoned to be prospectin', an' if I was that feller an' had to come to town, I'd have a fast hoss where I could get to him easy, in case I wanted to leave in a hurry.'

  The hint was plain enough. `Tonk ain't the holy terror he'd like to be thought,' smiled Green. `All the same, if I was that feller I'd be mighty obliged to yu.'

  They walked down the street in the direction of the Folly. The only bit of excitement was provided by a pup which, bolting headlong from a couple of yelling children, collided with a pedestrian. The latter, swinging a heavy foot, lifted the astonished cur well into the middle of the road, where it was triumphantly pounced upon by the pursuers. The pedestrian turned into the saloon, after hesitating outside the Dance Hall, where the stamping of many feet on the boarded floor and the howl of a tortured fiddle proclaimed that a dance was in progress. Green and his companion followed. One swift glance as they crossed the space between the door and the bar told Green that, in some quarters anyway, his appearance was unlooked for.

  "Lo, Silas,' he said, and then, seeing Snap Lunt, Durran, and Nigger a little further along the bar, he added, `Howdy, boys; yu joinin' me?'

  `Shore,' replied Snap, but the other two mumbled some excuse and turned away. Green laughed.

  `Ain't swore off, have they, Snap?' he inquired.

  `Not so as yu'd notice it, but they dassn't drink with yu; Blaynes is settin' over there.'

  Green looked in the direcnion indicated and saw that the foreman of the Y Z was playing poker with Pete, Laban, and Tarman.

  `It don't seem to worry yu none,' he said.

  The little gunman smiled grimly. `I ain't scared o' Blaynes,' he said.

  Green spun a dollar on the bar to pay for the drinks and Silas picked it up. `Why don't yu pay in dust?' he bantered.

  `What, an' have all town campin' on my trail for the next week. Yu must think I'm well named,' retorted the puncher.

  `I never did think that,' grinned Silas. `But say, you want to watch out; it isn't none o' my business, but some people was expectin' yu to-night.'

  The speaker's glance rested for a second or two on Tarman and his companions. Through apparently playing cards, it was plain that they were also deep in conversation. At that moment a boy from the hotel entered and handed Pete a package. Green recognised it. The gambler read the contents, said something in a low voice, and they all laughed.

  Green sensed that something was about to happen. That he had been deliberately sent into Hatchett's he had already suspected, but for what purpose he had yet to find out. Snap and West were busy swapping gold-mining experiences, for the gunman had also followed the trail of the pick and shovel, and this left the puncher at liberty to study his surroundings. The room was fairly full, and though he had no reason to think he was disliked, he knew that if it came to a showdown, most of the men present would stand aloof or take sides against him. The entry of four Double X punchers led by their one-eyed chief did not add to his feeling of security. As though they had been waiting for this reinforcement, the poker party broke up and adjourned to the bar. Again the door swung to admit Larry and Dirty. The former gave a whoop when he saw Green.

  `Gee, Dirty, we shore are in luck. There's the ruddy minin' magnit, with nobody but Snap to waste his substance on. Let's provide him with a better opportunity.'

  Disregarding the scowls of their foreman, they ranged themselves by the side of Green and his companion, and glass in hand smiled genially on those around them. They had come to town quite by chance, looking for no more than a drink or two and a game of cards, but when they saw the company in the saloon they realised that something was on. Others, not in any way interested, seemed to know it too and there was an air of general expectancy about the whole gathering. Then the marshal came in, glared savagely at Green for an instant, and joined Tarman's group at the bar.

  Green, replying absently to Larry, was to all appearances ignorant of the fact that he was in a hornets' nest. West, at any rate, was not deceived, for he whispered, `Get outa this; it's a frame-up an' yu ain't gotta chance.'

  Even had the cowpuncher been the man to take it, however, the warning came too late, for at the same moment Tarman lifted his hand and cried, `Set 'em up for the company, Silas.' Then he looked directly at Green, and added, `With one exception, o' course; I don't drink with rustlers.'

  No sooner were the words spoken than Tarman found himself standing alone; Green's companions also fell away; it was entirely the business of the two principals, and however interested the others might be, none of them wanted to stop a bullet not intended for him. The cowpuncher did not reply immediately to the insult, and there was a moment of tense, hard-breathing silence. Then suddenly he straightened up.

  `Tarman,' he said slowly, `I hope yu can shoot better than yu can ride.'

  The big man's vanity was touched on the raw and his face flushed redly at this allusion to his downfall. He was about to make an angry reply when the marshal pushed forward, gun in hand.

  `There'll be no shootin' here, gents, 'less I do it,' he said. `I'll bore the first man that tries to pull a gun. If yu gotta difference, settle it some other way. Yu got all out-doors to do it in.'

  Green laughed outright, for he knew now that Tarman had never intended to get into a gun-fight with him, the marshal's intervention having been carefully arranged. So that the big man's protest and the officer's refusal to consider it did not surprise him.

  `It can't be did, Mr. Tarman,' Tonk said. `I gotta see the law...'

  `Drop that gun, marshal; I've got yu covered,' broke in a sharp voice.

  The marshal's eyes positively bulged as he saw Green's right-hand gun, held close to the hip, was aimed at his heart. How it had come to be drawn he could not comprehend. He could have sworn he was watching his man, and he had seen no movement, and a gasp of astonishment from the onlookers proclaimed that they were equally puzzled. The marshal's pistol clanked on the floor; he was not anxious to wear wings. The cowpuncher holstered his own weapon, then looked at Tarman.

  `That lets the marshal out,' he said. `He's spoke his little piece an' obeyed orders. What's the next move in this frame-up?'

  `I dunno what yo're talkin' about,' retorted Tarman. `If the marshal hadn't butted in I'd have shot it out with you, an' been damn glad o' the chance.'

  The marshal won't butt again,' Green reminded.

  `P'raps not, but he's put in a protest, an' I have some respect for the law, if you haven't.'

  `Reckon the on'y law yu got any respect for is the law o' self-preservation,' the cowpuncher sneered, and laughed as he saw the taunt sink in. `Well, got any ideas?'

  `Yes, I got the idea that yu are a professional killer an' that yu are scared to face a man without yore guns,' said Tarman. `Take off yore belt an' I'll kill yu with
my hands, no holds barred. Now what have yu got to say?'

  `Who'll guarannee that I get my guns back?' asked Green, suspicious that this might be a ruse to catch him unarmed. `I will,' said Snap promptly. `Give 'em to me an' yu'll have 'em when yu want 'em. What's more, yu git a square deal, or someone'll go out in the smoke.'

  `An' that goes,' shouted Larry and Dirty together, with a malignant glare at the Double X faction.

  Green made no further demur, but handed his belt to Snap, who buckled it above his own in such a position as to enable him no pull the guns easily. Green threw aside his coat and vest, removed his spurs, and was ready. The centre of the room was soon cleared of tables and chairs, and the spectators, cards and drinks forgotten, stood round in an eager ring. Tarman also shed his coat and vest, disclosing a mighty pair of shoulders and arms upon which the muscles stood out in bunches. He moved easily for so big a man, and as he stepped forward swinging his hands he looked a formidable opponent. He was taller and heavier than the cowboy, but the latter was in perfect physical condition and as hard as nails. He smiled confidently as the little gunman whispered: `Don't let him close with yu--he's too heavy, an' don't yu worry about anythin' but him; I'll look after the others.'

  The cowpuncher nodded, aware that the advice was good. What the outcome of the fight would be he did not know, but the prospect of hammering the man before him made his body tingle and filled him with satisfaction. The primal instinct to fight with Nature's weapons possessed him, and he was glad it had not come to a shooting. A word from Snap and the combat was on.

  Neither man knew much of boxing, and the ethics of pugilism were little observed in frontier encounters. It was to be a stark fight, with no respite and no mercy. There were no seconds and no referee, save the self-appointed, squinting-eyed little gunman who watched grimly, his hands never far from the butts of his guns.

  For the first moment or two the men circled warily, watching for an opening. Tarman was the first to see what he took to be one, and rushing in, he swung a terrific blow at his opponent's head, which, had it landed, it might well have finished the battle. But the cowpuncher saw it in time and ducked, his shoulder taking what was meant for his head. Such was the force of the impact that he staggered and almost fell. A chorus of yells greeted this success.

  Two to one on the big 'un,' shouted Blaynes, already visioning the downfall of the man he hated.

  `Take yu--one hundred to fifty,' snapped Lunn.

  `Good enough. Anyone else want it?' asked the foreman, his eyes on Larry and Dirty.

  `Betcha life; we'll both take the same,' was the eager response of the Y Z pair.

  Blaynes laughed. `Yu boys'll put in a few months workin' for nothin',' he sneered.

  Meanwhile the fight went on, Tannan trying to deliver another sledgehammer blow, and Green keeping him away with savage jabs from a straight left arm and clever footwork. These tactics, though they did little damage, had the effect of misleading the big man, and many of the onlookers.

  `Smash him, Joe, he's runnin' away,' growled Laban.

  Probably Tarman never heard the advice but he apparently thought the same, for he rushed blindly in. At once the smaller man ducked and, as the blow whistled harmlessly over his shoulder, drove his left to the body and his right to the jaw, with a force which jerked a gasp out of the recipient. Two quick body blows from fists as hard and heavy as bags of bullets followed, and ere the big man could retaliate Green had slipped clear and was waiting for him.

  Again Tarman rushed in and this time Green met him halfway and fiercely returned blow for blow. Neither man made much attempt to avoid punishment; each was intent only on hurting the other. The cowpuncher, deaf to the curses and entreaties of his friends, yielded to the madness which possessed him, took all that was coming, and was concerned only with endeavouring to give more than he got. He was conscious of but one desire--to feel his fist pounding the puffed malignant face before him. He was hardly aware of the swaying ring of shouting men, grimed with the dust which rose in clouds from the boards beneath their stamping feet, but he knew that his strength would not stand the terrific strain much longer, and that his enemy was still unbeaten.

  Tarman was weakening too. For months past he had been living an easy life, and the blows to the body were beginning to tell. After five minutes of straight slogging, Nature called a halt and the men fell apart, unsteady on their feet and gasping for breath. Both showed signs of the punishment they had received; Green's cheek was gashed and one eye nearly closed, while the big man's lips were split, and both eyes badly bruised. The respite did not last a minute, for Tarman, with a grunt of rage, lurched forward with fists flying. But the breathing-space, short as it was, enabled the cowboy to regain control of himself; his wild burst of anger was sated, and he now fought warily again.

  Time after time he slipped agilely away from a furious onslaught, and the task of following him was doing the bigger man no good. The adherents of the latter saw this, but Green took no notice of the taunts and jeers his tactics called forth. All at once, the very thing he had been trying to avoid happened--his foot slipped, and in an instant Tarman's mighty arms were round his shoulders. It was like being hugged by a grizzly. Fortunately for Green, the giant had caught him a shade too high, so that he was still able to administer a succession of short-arm jabs to the wind, but the clamp of those iron arms was slowly but surely crushing the life out of him. The room seemed to be swaying up and down like the deck of a ship, he saw dimly a row of contorted, bobbing faces, oaths flew from excited lips, and the swinging lights seemed to be fading. Then, at the very moment when he felt that all was over, came relief; Tarman unable to endure the torture of the body-blows another instant, broke his hold and the pair dropped apart.

  Silence seized the spectators again as they watched the two men standing there apparently too exhausted to make another move. Was it to be a drawn battle? Bruised, battered, drawing their breath in great sobs, neither man looked capable of striking another blow. The harsh tones of the Y Z foreman, bitter with hatred, shattered the silence and gave the signal for the renewal of the combat.

  `Yu got him beat to a frazzle, Tarman. Go in an' kill the hound.'

  Like a drench of cold water the words struck the cowboy, steadied his reeling senses, and keyed up his weary body. Snap, watching him closely, saw him straighten, noted how the slack fingers bunched themselves into fists again, and promptly replied to the challenge :

  Wantta double that bet, Blaynes?' he asked.

  `Shore,' returned the foreman, `though it's fair robbin' yu.' `Guess yore conscience'll stand it at that,' sneered the other. `Yo're on.' And then, in an undertone to Green, he said, `Now, boy, wait for him an' give him hell.'

  The cowpuncher did not have long to wait. Spitting out an oath, Tarman dashed in, his right arm swinging like a flail, intent on finishing the fight at a blow. But the smaller man was ready, alert, and watching. Instead of giving way before the onslaught he stepped to meet it and flinging his left arm upwards and outwards, knocked the advancing fist aside. The force of the parry swung the big man half round so that the left point of his jaw was towards his opponent. Like a flash of light Green's right fist shot out, with every ounce of his remaining strength behind it, and landed with a thud on the exposed spot. Tarman's head snapped back, his heels left the floor, and he crashed down. Such was the impetus of the blow that the striker also fell prone on top of the stricken man.

  Green was up again at once and stood back, waiting, but Tarman lay there like a log, breathing heavily, but unconscious; the fight was finished! For a moment the onlookers gazed in amazed silence at the fallen giant, and then pandemonium broke loose. Blaynes, furious at the loss of his money and his baulked vengeance, was excitedly talking to the marshal, a point which Snap at once observed. It took but a minute to re-invest the victor with his gun-belt and discarded gear, and then the gunman whispered :

  `They're hatchin' somethin'; make the back door.'

  Almost unnoticed by t
he clamorous, wrangling crowd, Green, with Larry and Dirty, slid through the back entrance of the saloon and gained the hotel. Here, a little later, Snap and West joined them. The gunman was grinning.

  `Blaynes was tryin' to get the marshal to arrest yu for disturbin' the peace, but he sorta re-considered the notion when I pointed out that he'd have to jail Tarman to, an' that same feller come alive again just in time to take in the argument, an' well, yu oughta heard him; I reckon Tonk knows all about hisself now.'

  `Point is, what're yu goin' to do, Don?' asked Larry.

  Green smiled rather lopsidedly at his friend. `I gotta bed here, an' I'm aimin' to occupy it a whole lot to-night,' he said. From this resolve all their arguments and entreaties failed to move him. Nor would he tell them anything regarding his future movements.

  `It's mighty good o' yu boys to back me up, but I'm a lone wolf an' about as popular as a drink o' whisky at a temperance meeting; I ain't allowin' yu to get in worse than yu are. I'll be around, an' that's all I'm tellin' yu.'

  With that they had to be content. But to Snap, when the other men had gone for the horses, he said, `Snap, how long have yu known Tarman?'

  Despite his habitual command of self, the gunman gave a slight start of surprise, for such a question had been totally unexpected. He was silent for a moment and then he said, `That's one o' the things I can't tell yu, Green.'

  It was the answer the puncher had looked for and he accepned it without further argument; right or wrong, the little man had his own code of honour, and Green was not the kind to ask him no go back on it.

  As they rode home to the ranch the two younger cowboys were full of the fight, and the bulge they would have on those of the outfit who had not seen it. Snap was thoughtful, pondering on the last question.

  `He's a noticin' cuss, for shore,' he unconsciously said aloud. `He's a human clam, but Gosh! he can fight,' cried Dirty. `All the same, I dunno as we oughtta left him.'