Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937)

by Oliver Strange

  “So you got tired of punching cows?”

  “I allus was a restless fella—never could stay put nohow,” he replied.

  She made one or two tentative efforts to probe into his past, but the puncher was on his guard and she learned nothing. As they rode through the town more than one pair of envious eyes followed them; Lora Lesurge had plenty of admirers. Paul, from the shelter of the Monte, saw them pass.

  “Good, she’s hooked him,” he muttered.

  When they reached the house, Sudden lifted her down and carried her in. He declined to stay, though she urged that her brother would wish to thank him.

  “It don’t need speakin’ of,” he told her. Mary Ducane had come in and was regarding him with something very like repulsion. “Gerry is up in the gulch there all alone.”

  “You are anxious about your friend?” Lora asked.

  The cowboy detected the sneer. “I don’t have many, so I gotta take care of ‘em,” he smiled. “Gerry’s a pretty ornery cuss, but I’d hate to find some wandering war-whoop had took a fancy to his curly locks.” He noted the younger girl’s instant look of alarm and smothered a grin as he took his leave.

  “It doesn’t seem to trouble him,” Mary remarked, and seeing she was not understood, “I mean, killing that man.” This, though the girl did not know it, was a home-thrust for her companion.

  “Why should it?” Lora retorted. “The fellow purposely picked a quarrel as an excuse for shooting him. Did you expect Green to let him do it?”

  “I suppose not, but it is—terrible,” was the lame reply. Lora shrugged her shoulders.

  “Nothing of the kind,” she said callously. “This is a lawless land and bloodthirsty brutes like Logan—he had already murdered ten men—must be dealt with. All this claptrap about the sacredness of human life makes me tired; when men behave like mad dogs they must be treated as such.” Mary, Western-bred, knew that, to a large extent, she was right, but it was somewhat of a shock to hear a young and lovely woman express such a drastic doctrine.

  When Sudden returned to the claim he found a very impatient partner awaiting him.

  “Yu took yore time,” was the greeting he received.

  “Did yu expect a lady with a sprained ankle to gallop?” was the sarcastic retort.

  “S’pose not. How d’yu get her on the hoss, Jim?”

  “Made him lie down,” Sudden grinned. “To tell yu the truth ”

  “Don’t strain yoreself,” the other begged.

  “I don’t savvy the game,” Sudden continued. “She stampeded her pony and her ankle ain’t damaged none whatever.”

  “She’s fell in love with yu, Jim, an’ I’ll bet brother Paul don’t know neither.”

  “Talk sense—the whole town saw us ride in.”

  “That’s so. Shore looks as if he’s in on it. Was Miss Ducane pleased to see yu?”

  “I’ve had warmer welcomes,” was the sardonic admission. Gerry laughed delightedly.

  “She’s one fine girl,” he exulted. “I’m goin’ to marry her.” Sudden stared at him in undisguised amazement. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, and heedless of the other’s cordial agreement, continued, “Have yu informed the lady or is it to be a surprise?”

  “I done told her—right away.”

  “An’ yu still live?” Gerry grinned widely. “I lit out before the storm broke,” he confessed.

  “No wonder she treated me like I was an infectious disease,” was Sudden’s comment.

  Chapter X

  It was the second evening after Lora’s adventure that Sudden encountered her brother. He and Gerry were in the Paris when Paul came up to them.

  “Green, I want to thank you for coming to my sister’s aid,” he said. “It might have proved serious.”

  “Nothin’ to that,” the puncher replied. “But she didn’t oughta been there.”

  “So I told her, but Lora is of a daring disposition,” Paul answered. “It takes a lot to scare her.”

  “I hope her foot is mendin’,” Sudden said politely.

  “Better call and ask—women expect that sort of attention, you know,” Lesurge smiled.

  Sudden looked at his companion, of whom no notice had been taken. “That’s a bet we overlooked, Gerry. We’ll pay that visit to-morrow.” Paul’s face darkened—he was getting more than he bargained for, but his tone showed no trace of annoyance:

  “Lora will be pleased to see you, Green, and remember, if I can do anything … We Waysiders ought to hang together.” The cowboy’s eyes twinkled. “Well, Mister Lesurge,” he drawled, “if it comes to hangin’ I dunno that company’d be any comfort to me.” Lesurge studied him sharply for a moment, then decided it was a joke, and laughed as he went.

  They paid the promised visit in the morning but Gerry’s courage failed him at the last moment and he elected to wait outside, in the hope—as he was careful to explain—that Mary would come out and he would have her to himself; the excuse elicited a sardonic “Oh, yeah” from his companion. He was doomed to be disappointed, for he saw no sign of the lady.

  Lora, reclining gracefully on a couch, received the visitor with a smile of reproof. Her foot was better, she told him; in fact, had he delayed his inquiry a little, it would have been quite well.

  “Just a trifling strain, after all,” she said. “I’m afraid I made too much of it. I hope you found your friend still in possession of his hair?” Sudden assured her on that point and sat fidgeting with his hat, wishing himself anywhere else. The fine furniture, rugs, pictures, and the deft touches which betrayed the hand of a woman, only made him uncomfortable; he was supremely conscious of his rough attire.

  “There are cigarettes on the table and I will join you,” she said. “One of my many vices.”

  He held a light for her and helped himself to one of the “tailor-made” smokes. He had met other women who used tobacco but they had been very different from this dazzling but essentially feminine creature. He fought against the spell she was weaving, reminded himself that she had deceived him, but he was young and youth will forgive much to a pretty woman. And she was more than that, for she had the dark, exotic beauty which goes to men’s heads like strong wine. In her dainty draperies, curled up among the cushions, and with her soft, purring voice, there was something feline about her.

  “I am sick to death of this dreadful town, but my brother has big interests, so I must stay,” she told him. “He thinks the possibilities are unlimited.” Sudden hid his smile; they certainly were for an unscrupulous person. “I’d say he’s right, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Of course, he’ll have to get good men to help him,” she went on. “Paul is wonderful,

  but … ” She gestured with a slim, white hand.

  The cowboy began to see light. Having failed to remove him, was he now to be used?

  That was a game two could play at. He put on a particularly wooden expression.

  “One fella can’t do it all,” he agreed.

  “My brother is generous to those who serve him,” she murmured softly. “I too like to more than pay a debt.” The warmth in tone and look promised much, but the visitor, convinced that he had solved the problem, was himself again, cold, insensible to the glamour of her beauty.

  But since he must not let her see this, stupidity was the safest card to play.

  “Good work shorely deserves good pay,” he observed fatuously.

  To his surprise, she dropped the subject and after one or two commonplaces, held out her hand.

  “We must meet again,” she said. “You interest me.” When he had gone, she rose and crossed to a mirror. “What is the matter with me?” she murmured. “Is he really dumb, or …?”

  Apparently satisfied with the reflection in the glass she curtseyed to it mockingly. “We shall see, Mister Sudden; you may be a wonder with a six-shooter but Cupid can beat you with his bow and arrow—damn you.” Had the cowboy seen her at that moment, the God of Love’s shaft would have sadly missed its aim. All her bea
uty could not make a woman with such an expression desirable.

  But Sudden was riding up the street, repeating for the third time that he had not seen Miss Ducane. He gave his explanation of Lora’s interest and Gerry’s eyes grew round.

  “They wanta rope yu into their plans?” he said. “But why?”

  “Mebbe they need a fast gun-slinger,” Sudden said bitterly. “I’m knowed too, an’ if anythin’ goes wrong with those same plans, I’ll be left holdin’ the bag.”

  “What yu mean to do, Jim?”

  “I’m takin’ a hand,” came the grim reply.

  “We are,” the other corrected.

  Sudden expressed a doubt. “Lesurge don’t like you. Yo’re young, yu got a face a girl might get used to—in time, an’ he has his own ideas, I figure, about Miss Ducane’s future.”

  Gerry’s comment, a poor tribute to his upbringing, set out clearly and vividly, his ideas regarding the future of Paul Lesurge.

  “Cussin’ never cured anythin’,” Sudden said philosophically. “We gotta wait for the next move in the game.” They were not kept long in suspense; it had already been made. As they crossed the little stream which descended from their claim, Sudden noticed that the water was muddy.

  “Somebody’s workin’ near us,” he remarked.

  Breasting the slope, they soon reached the spot. Three men were busily washing sand from the bed of the rivulet. They ceased as the riders emerged from the trees, their hands going to their guns, only to fall away again when Sudden slid from-his saddle and stepped towards them. Blue-shirted miners, neither young nor old, of the type which could be seen by the hundred in the vicinity at any hour of the day or night, with rugged, hard, but not unpleasant faces.

  “What’s the bright notion, jumpin’ our claim this away?” the puncher asked.

  The oldest of the three, who sported a grey beard, replied:

  “We didn’t know it was your’n.” His tone was almost apologetic, and Sudden knew that, for once, his evil reputation was helping him. “You ain’t staked no claim, nor recorded her, an’ she’s anybody’s ground.” The cowboys grinned wryly at one another; this was a detail they had overlooked.

  “We figured on attendin’ to that later, if it was worthwhile,” Sudden explained. “What made yu pick on this place?”

  “Fella told us ‘bout it—said a couple o’ chaps was doin’ well but hadn’t recorded,” the man replied. “You see, we bin havin’ a middlin’ poor time, couldn’t make a strike nohow, an’ with grub the price it is …” He shrugged expressively.

  “Was the fellow named Berg?”

  “Why I b’lieve I did hear him called that—a tricky-lookin’ triflin’ bit of a man.”

  “Yu said it,” the puncher agreed. “Well, boys, yu win. Me an’ Gerry has slipped up an’ must take our medicine. Good luck to yu.” He turned towards his horse.

  The two miners who had been silent looked at the spokesman and shook their heads.

  “Hold on thar, we ain’t agreein’ to that,” Grey-beard said. “Yo’re treatin’ us fair, mister, an’ we aim to do the same. We’ve staked three claims an’ you can choose two of ‘em—I’m tellin’ you the ones the stream runs through is the likeliest. We’ll mark out another couple an’ work alongside, if yo’re willin’.”

  “That’s a white man’s offer, but I got a better idea,” Sudden replied. “We’ll work the five claims an’ split the proceeds equally. What yu say?” Since the cowboy’s ground would probably be the richest, this proposal was to the advantage of the intruders; they did not hesitate.

  “That’s a bet,” their leader said, “but I reckon you two should take a bigger share.” The puncher would not have it. “We’re kind o’ new to this game,” he pointed out. “We’ll gain by throwin’ in with yu, Mister .. ?” ‘I’m Jessie Rogers, this is Ben Humit. an’ that ornery fella is Tom Bowman; we ain’t much to look at but you’ll find we’re on the level,” Grey-beard said. “We was in the Paris when you gave Logan what he shorely asked for.” He looked round. “This end o’ the gulch ain’t bin prospected much—chaps are scared o’ gettin’ far from town—but they’ll come, an’ it’ll be all to the good if there’s a party of us. What you goin’ to do to Berg?”

  “Box his ears,” was the smiling answer. “He’s on’y bein’ used, Rogers, by bigger men.”

  “Well, any time you want help, there’s three of us,” the other replied slowly.

  “I’m rememberin’ that,” Sudden said warmly.

  By virtue of both age and experience, Rogers took charge of the operations. His partners were deputed to stake the additional claims while the other three used shovel and pan. Sudden pointed out the natural rock riffle and Rogers laughed.

  “We tried that first,” he said. “No wonder she warn’t so rich as we expected. Hey, that ain’t no way to wash dirt—you’ll lose half the dust. Lemme show you.” The puncher watched his skilful handling of the pan with a rueful countenance, seeing which, Rogers smiled. “Don’t you care, son,” he consoled. “Each to his job, they say. I’m bettin’ you could throw an’ tie twenty cows afore I got the rope on one.” Sudden laughed and went to help Gerry with the digging.

  “Berg has done us a good turn unmeanin’,” he remarked. “I’m wonderin’ if it was just spite, or was he obeyin’ orders?” When just before dark, they reached home, another surprise awaited them. From a sawn-off tree-stump which served as a seat outside the door, Snowy rose.

  “‘Lo boys,” he cried. “There’s nobody to home so I just hung aroun’.” They took him inside and produced a bottle and glasses, but he shook his head.

  “Ain’t drinkin’ right now,” he excused. “Wanted to see you particular, Jim.” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I’m agoin’ to re-locate the mine. It ain’t fur, mebbe I won’t be gone more’n a day or so, ‘less I’ve disremembered the landmarks, but it’s wild country. Paul reckons I oughta have comp’ny—a fella who’s handy with weapons.”

  “So he sent yu to me?”

  “Well, he mentioned yore name an’ I was pleased to hear it. I’d like for yu to come, Jim.

  It’s been in my mind a long whiles —that’s why I asked you boys to stay put. O’ course, you’ll be in on it,” he added hastily. “How’s things?”

  “Our claim was jumped this mornin’,” Sudden told him, “but we ain’t within sight o’ sellin’ our saddles yet.” Thus assured that their financial condition was not desperate, Snowy asked about the claim-jumping; it was evident he knew nothing of it.

  “Mean trick,” he commented, “but, o’ course, if you hadn’t made yore title good … Hell, what’s it matter? I’m offerin’ you a bigger chance. What do you say?”

  “I’m with yu,” the puncher said, after a moment’s consideration.

  The old man was clearly pleased. “I’ll be along ‘bout daybreak, have to slide out quiet-like, I’m bein’ watched,” he said importantly. “Mind, not a word to anybody. Well, I’ll get agoin’.”

  “Won’t yu wait till Jacob shows up?” Sudden asked. “He’d admire to meet yu; he’s a Forty-niner too.” Snowy’s eyes showed a flicker of alarm. “Got no time now —lot to do,” he muttered, and scurried out with a bare word of farewell.

  “Odd number that—he seemed kinda scared,” Gerry remarked. “Mebbe he never was in California.”

  “An’ mebbe he was,” Sudden said sardonically.

  “Don’t like yu goin’ alone, Jim; it would be easy to wipe out the pair o’ yu.”

  “Snowy is safe till Lesurge knows where the mine is.”

  “Shore, but why send you?”

  “That’s what I’m hopin’ to find out.”

  “It’s a risk, Jim.”

  “Shucks, the fella who allus plays it safe gets no fun outa life,” Sudden said lightly. “Yu’ll have to explain to Rogers, an’ if yu do three times as much work it’ll even my bein’ away.”

  “Half my usual day extra’ll be enough for that,” Gerry retaliated. “If I do more, they’l
l be damn sorry to see yu back. Don’t worry, fella; we won’t miss yu, ‘cept at meal-times.”

  Chapter XI

  A faint, cold light above the Eastern horizon was announcing the advent of another day when the expedition set out. Snowy was draped over the saddle of an aged, stone-coloured mare to whom the loss of one ear gave a dilapidated but rather rakish appearance. Sudden eyed the beast with saturnine disfavour.

  “She looks a proper Jezebel,” the puncher grinned.

  Snowy had climbed down in order to display his acquisition to better advantage.

  “Funny, that’s the very name the fella gave her,” he said. “I’m goin’ to make it ‘Jessie,’ for short; he told me she had a nice disposition. Barrin’ that chawed-off ear ” He did not finish; a lashing left hoof, which would inevitably have removed Snowy’s head had he been a foot higher, gave him something else to think about. “Just playful, that’s what,” he added, from a safe distance.

  “Yeah, but if that lick had landed yu’d ‘a’ been pretty near back in Wayside by now,” the cowboy said dryly. He cut a stout stick from a neighboring bush. “Thisyer is a magic wand; as long as yu carry it, she won’t feel frolicsome.” He proved a true prophet; after one guileful look at the weapon, Jezebel quietly submitted to being mounted.

  The prospector led the way westward along the gulch.

  Snowy appeared to know his way and rode stolidly on, thumping the ribs of his mount with unspurred heels. Presently they emerged, as from a tunnel, into daylight, and began to climb a rock-strewn slope which slanted upwards to the bare mountains ahead.

  Somehow the miner seemed to have lost much of his madness; the vacant, stupid expression so frequently on his face was absent.

  Midday brought the end of the arduous ascent and they found themselves among the black crags, great, grim needles of stone without vegetation of any kind to clothe their precipitous sides. The heat was almost intolerable. Lizards sunning themselves on the boulders and a big rattlesnake were the only signs of life save a solitary eagle, sailing serenely in the sky.