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

by Oliver Strange

  “Never seed an onlikelier prospect.”

  “Any experienced digger’ll tell you them’s often the richest,” the old man snapped.

  Preparations were begun for pitching camp. The ladies inspected the shack and promptly elected to use the tent which had been brought for them, as being less suggestive of spiders, scorpions, and other horrors. The “barscourin’s,” however, decided it was good enough for them.

  Some hundred yards along the ravine was a tiny grass plateau, shaded by birch and cottonwoods, and here the tent was erected and a rough lean-to shelter put together for Lesurge and Snowy.

  The puncher, for reasons of his own, announced that he preferred to sleep in the open; his blanket and saddle were all he needed. Lesurge was superintending these arrangements when Sudden strolled up.

  “It won’t be dark yet awhile,” he said. “I’m goin’ to see if I can scare up a deer—fresh meat’ll be an improvement on sow-belly. Like to come along, Ducane?”

  “Shore would—I ain’t no use here,” came the prompt reply. “That’s a good idea, Green; we’ll make you hunter to the party,” Lesurge laughed.

  The two men got their mounts and loped off. When they were a safe distance away, Snowy chuckled and said: “Yo’re a clever cuss, Jim. I was wonderin’ what excuse we could make to git away times. How fur do you make it? I never was no good at measurin’.”

  “Not much more’n a couple o’ miles in a straight line but yu gotta twist about some. See the belt o’ firs over there with a point o’ rock peepin’ above it? That’s the Rock in’ Stone.”

  “Burn my whiskers if it ain’t. I never looked at her from here.” They were threading a thicket when Sudden held up a warning hand, grabbed his rifle, and disappeared on foot into the bushes. Ten minutes later Snowy heard a report, and then the puncher reappeared, carrying the carcase of a young buck, which he proceeded to secure to his saddle.

  “There’s a pool, an’ by the tracks it’s a regular drinkin’ place,” he said. “Worth rememberin’.” They hurried on and presently, penetrating the circle of trees, reached the rampart of rock. Tying their mounts, they slipped through the concealed opening. At the other end of the hollow, five men were busily at work. Sudden uttered a low Cowboy call and one of the stooping figures straightened up, let out an answering whoop, and came charging towards them.

  “Jim?” he cried. “Yu got here then?”

  “No, I’m still on the way,” Sudden said ironically.

  Snowy was already among the workers. “How’s she pannin’ out?” he asked excitedly.

  It was Rogers who replied. “Mister Ducane, she’s lousy with gold; I never see the like of it.”

  “Good,” the little man said, “but cut out thè mister’—we’re all pardners here.” Rogers nodded. “We ain’t losin’ no time—sca’cely stoppin’ to feed; Jim said we might be disturbed,” he went on, and as Sudden came up, “I’m buryin’ the stuff under the big tree yu picked out.”

  “What’s that?” Snowy wanted to know.

  “I told him to cache the dust in the brush; no sense in losin’ that as well as the claim if we get druv out,” the puncher explained. “I’ll show yu the spot.”

  “Jim, I’m liftin’ my lid to you,” Snowy said warmly. “You got savvy. Well, Mister Jacob, what d’you think of her?”

  “It’s the most remarkable alluvial deposit I ever heard of,” was the reply.

  “You figure it’s just a pocket?”

  “Certainly. Under the sand and gravel, there is a thin layer of almost pure gold on the bed-rock. Somewhere up there”— he pointed to the great cliff with its swinging stone—“is the mother-lode, but you’d need dynamite and a crushing plant to get at it.”

  “Guess yo’re right,” the prospector agreed. “Well, cleanin’ this hole out will give us enough to do—an’ to spend, but …” He gazed regretfully at the mountain, his mind on the hidden wealth it contained.

  Mason accompanied them to the entrance. “Get out all yucan, Gerry,” Sudden told him.

  “It won’t take Paul’s party long to find they’re workin’ a dead hoss an’ then somethin’s liable to break loose.”

  “How’s—everybody?” the boy asked.

  “She’s lookin’ fine,” Sudden grinned. “Rode all the way with dear Paul, an’ seemed to be enjoyin’ herself.” He waited while Gerry expressed a few fervent wishes respecting dear Paul, and added, “I’m beginnin’ to doubt if yu like the fella.”

  “Mixin’ so much with Miss Lesurge is shorely sharpenin’ yore wits,” the boy came back, and asked how many men Paul had brought.

  “Husky?” Gerry said, when he had heard the names. “Ain’t he the joker who wanted to string yu up?”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sorta white.”

  “On’y seven, countin’ Paul hisself; that ain’t so many,” Gerry reflected aloud.

  “He isn’t expectin’ opposition, an’ would reckon on me an’ Snowy—as yet,” Sudden argued. “There’s six of ‘em anyway who’d admire to bump me off. I’d feel like Daniel in the lions den on’y they’s just coyotes.” He closed with a word of comfort: “Keep a-smilin’; she looked real disappointed when yu didn’t show up. Adios.”

  CHAPTER XX

  The next morning brought feverish activity to the camp in the ravine, and the washing of the first pan of dirt was witnessed by the whole company. When Snowy—who himself officiated—triumphantly pointed to the resulting pinch of yellow particles, a chorus of satisfaction greeted him, and no further spur was needed. Blinded by the golden gleam, the men snatched up tools and began to dig with eager energy. But as the day waned so did the enthusiasm. Gold was found in trifling amounts only. Husky, the most experienced miner, save Snowy, put the matter plainly:

  “We’re findin’ plenty `colour’ an’ that’s all.” Lesurge took the disappointment badly. “You appear to brought us on a fool’s errand, Phil,” he said irritably, as they sat over the evening meal.

  “If you knowed as much as I do ‘bout gold-minin’—which you never will—you’d talk different,” Snowy returned calmly.

  “The stuff is there, you’ve seen it, but we ain’t just struck when. it’s thickest. Did you expect to put a spade in an’ fetch it out loaded with nuggets? That on’y happens in the story-books-an’ dreams. Mebbe we’ll have better luck to-morrow.”

  “I hope so,” Paul replied. “Where’s Green—and Lora?”

  “Jim’s gone for meat, an’ Miss Lesurge elected to go along.”

  “She said she was tired of doing nothing,” Mary explained.

  “You don’t feel like that?”

  “No, I think it is all very interesting and exciting.” He stooped over her and whispered, “I want you always to be contented when we’re together, Mary.” The warmth in his tone stirred her, brought the blood to her cheeks, but she had a sense of something lacking and could not say the words she knew he was hoping to hear. But her smile satisfied him.

  Sudden had not been pleased to have company—he would not be able to pay the Rocking Stone a visit, but his objection that there might he danger had been met with a merry laugh.

  “We’ve faced it all together before,” Lora reminded.

  “Yeah, an’ I’d have thought once would ‘a’ been a-plenty,” he replied.

  “You don’t know how fascinating you are, Jim,” she mocked.

  “I reckon yore brother is some disappointed,” he said.

  “I didn’t come to discuss Paul; I want to talk about you.” He looked at her quizzically:

  “Well, I can’t stop yu, but I don’t have to listen.”

  “That is mean of you,” she cried. “If I knew the way back…”

  “I’ll show yu,” he offered instantly.

  To his surprise, she laughed. “No, you are too anxious to get rid of me, my friend. Why?”

  “I’ve work to do.” A little later he pulled up. “Wait here,” he told her, “I won’t be far off.

  No, yu
needn’t to hold Nigger—he’ll stay put.” He dropped the reins to the ground, took his rifle, and slipped noiselessly into the brush. She heard the shot, and soon he was back, carrying his spoil. The woman looked at the limp, sleek body of the deer and shivered. Such a little time ago it had been full of life, and now … With an uncanny instinct he sometimes showed, he read her thought.

  “I warned yu not to come,” he said.

  She did not speak until they were nearly back at the camp, and then: “Jim, do you ever think of—Logan?”

  “On’y when thoughtless folk remind me,” he said harshly.

  “I killed a man once,” she went on in a low voice. “I suppose you heard? I didn’t intend to; he was—horrible to me. I meant to frighten him, but—he died.”

  “Forget it,” the cowboy said. “Yu had a right to protect yoreself, an’ by all accounts, the fella got what he deserved.”

  “Death, when one thinks seriously of it, seems terrible,” she mused.

  “Shucks, it’s just goin’ to sleep an’ not wakin’ up, that’s all,” he said lightly.

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid,” she confessed.

  “What of?” Sudden asked.

  “I don’t know—which is the worst kind of fear,” she said, and, with an effort at a smile, as the camp-fires came in view, “I’ve been a doleful Dinah this evening, Jim. I’ll be all right in the morning.” She walked listlessly to the tent. The puncher unsaddled and turned loose the horses, hung the meat on a branch out of reach of four-footed prowlers, and went down to the shack in search of supper. He found an air of savage dejection, and soon realized that in the bitter condemnation of Snowy, he himself was included.

  “Allus knowed he was a romancer,” Rodd remarked. “Hell if that of geezer opened his mouth much more he’d be liable to swatter hisself.”

  “Yeah, you can’t tell him nothin’ ‘bout gold, an’ he fetches us out here on this shadder-huntin’ play,” Lem supplemented.

  “Anybody might think yu’d paid him for the chance,” Sudden said. “How much has any o’ yu lost?”

  “We’re riskin’ our ha’r an’ wastin’ time,” Berg argued.

  “Like the rest of us,” Sudden pointed out. “Did yu expect to find the dust packed up in sealed boxes ready for yu?” He was watching Fagan as he spoke, and saw the sinister face darken. Husky—who did not understand the allusion—laughed and said, “Even Ducane didn’t promise that. Arter all, it’s a blow in the breakfast for him too, but we may hit on her yet—you never know ‘bout claims.” His optimism evoked only scowls and sneers. Sudden finished his meal, said good night to the big miner, and sought his blankets. He did not sleep at once. Lora’s mood, so unlike her confident, cynical self, puzzled him. Was it another trick of an accomplished coquette or could there be real reason for fear? Possible she had recognised Hank. But her brother would protect her. Then came the amazing thought that Paul might be the cause of her apprehension, but he dismissed it as absurd.

  The morrow brought no encouragement to the fortune hunters; the ravine was tested from end to end and the results were meagre indeed. Even Snowy had to admit that it was useless to continue work there. He appeared to be dazed by the disappointment, wandering from one point to another like a man who had lost something precious. Only Sudden caught and read the malicious gleam of joy which sometimes crept into his narrowed eyes.

  “Damned if I can understand it,” he said to Lesurge. “There’s the shack I lived in ”

  “Ducane lived in,” Paul reminded.

  “O’ course, I meant that,” the other assented. “But here’s the ravine, an’ the marks when he tried her out.”

  “The directions Mary gave you indicated this place?”

  “Shore they did. How else would I find it?” Paul turned away impatiently; it would be just like the doddering old idiot to have made a mistake. He went in search of the girl and found her sitting on a tree-stump, absorbing the view. Though the frown had vanished, his face was worn and worried; finding the mine meant everything to him. Nevertheless, he forced a smile to his lips as he answered her question.

  “No better news. I’m beginning to fear that Ducane’s memory has served him ill and that he has brought us to the wrong spot.” Mary had known this as soon as they arrived, but the promise to her uncle had kept her silent. But surely now that they were away from Deadwood and she was to wed Paul, there was no more need for secrecy. Pity for him impelled her to speak; she did not see that he was watching her narrowly.

  “I am afraid you are right, but Uncle seemed so sure,” she replied. “There was mention of a kind of cup with cliff-walls, a rock peak which somehow threatened, and a hidden entrance. I think, from what I can remember, that we came the right way, and that it should be near here.”

  Though he questioned her closely, she would tell him nothing more definite. “Possibly these particulars may stir your uncle’s sluggish memory,” he said, and cursed below his breath. at the thought that the old man could know no more than himself.

  “I hope so,” she replied. “It will break his heart to fail.” On his way back to the camp he met Lora, and gave an order: “When that cowboy goes hunting tonight you stay here.”

  “And why?” she inquired, raising mutinous eyebrows.

  “Because it is necessary,” he snapped, “unless you wish to remain a pauper.” She gave a weary gesture. “Oh, I’m tired of it,” she cried. “I’m afraid you were right, Paul; he is too strong for me.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now; I can handle Mister Green myself,” he said harshly.

  An hour after the puncher had departed on his foraging expedition, Rodd come rocketing into camp and drew Lesurge aside.

  “Boss, we’re bein’ sold out,” he said. “I follered Green, saw him git the meat, an’ then, ‘stead o’ turnin’ back, he goes on. An’ he ain’t just wanderin’ neither, but makin’ for a fixed point. Next, cuss the luck, I loses him.”

  “Blundering jackass,” came the angry comment.

  “Warn’t my fault. We comes to an open stretch o’ grass an’ that black o’ his leaves mine a-standin’ still. I’ll swear he never got a peep at me; it was just a smart dodge, in case.”

  “All right. When he returns, you know what to do.” The spy had been correct—Sudden had no suspicion that he was being trailed, but he was taking no chances. At the Rocking Stone he found the work proceeding merrily and the gold was being got out with all speed.

  “Somethin’s bound to happen to-morrow,” he told Gerry, as he was leaving. “The ravine’s busted wide open an’ there ain’t enough dust to pay one o’ the gang. Snowy’s a born actor but Paul is gettin’ suspicious.”

  “Mebbe he’ll throw the hand in an’ go back to Deadwood?”

  “What the of man is hopin’ for, I expect, but it won’t be that easy. Keep a sharp look-out, an’ don’t light a fire—smoke can be seen a long ways off in the daylight.”

  “Now I’ll tell one,” Gerry said. “Yu had a gran’mother.” Sudden stared at him. “What th’—?” he began.

  “Don’t deny it fella. Yore gran’mother could suck eggs, an’ I’m bettin’ yu taught her how.”

  “Awright, I take it back,” the other Iaughed. “I keep forgettin’ yo’re near growed up.”

  Everything appeared to be normal when he reached the ravine. He rode down to the shack, dismounted, and was in the act of handing the buck he had brought in to Berg when one of the men deftly removed his guns and two others grabbed his wrists. With a violent wrench he freed himself and drove a bullet-hard fist into the nearest face—that of Rodd. But Hank hung on, and when Fagan charged from behind, knocked the cowboy off his feet and knelt upon him, Sudden, windless and spreadeagled on the ground, was helpless. A few moments sufficed to secure his wrists, and he was permitted to stand up. Rodd also rose, feeling his neck anxiously. Finding it was not, as he had feared, dislocated, he stepped to the prisoner, fists clenched.

  “You damned cow-thief,” he snarled. “I�
��ll—” A huge hand gripped his shoulder and dragged him back. “None o’ that,” Husky said gruffly. “Time to hit a fella’s when f his han’s is free—like mine.” Bandy did not accept the invitation; he may have been familiar with the story of David and Goliath but apparently he had no desire to emulate it. He contented himself with a scowl.

  “I’m obliged, Husky,” Sudden said. “Mebbe yu can explain the meanin’ o’ this?”

  “Lesurge wants to talk to yu—that’s all I know.”

  “Goin’ to be rude an’ is playin’ safe, huh? Well, let’s get it over.” He walked to where Paul, Snowy and the women were sitting, and the men followed. The prospector was looking uncomfortable.

  “See here, Lesurge, what’s the reason for yore scum jumpin’ me?” the prisoner asked brusquely.

  “My orders,” Paul said curtly. “Where have you been?”

  “Gettin’ meat.”

  “And after?”

  “Give the li’l horse a run—he’s needin’ exercise.”

  “That’s a lie.” The puncher’s eyes narrowed. “Yu were certainly wise to tie me up,” he said.

  “I’ve dealt with desperadoes before.”

  “Yeah,” Sudden drawled, with a sardonic glance at the repellent faces around him.

  Lesurge turned and darted a finger at the old man.

  “Where’s the real one, the one in a cup with cliff-walls, an overhanging rock, and a concealed entrance?” he thundered.

  “That’s the description you got from Mary, and you bring me here.” Snowy’s face did not alter. “Don’t ‘member any such place,” he mumbled vacantly.

  “Yet you can remember this one,” Paul sneered.

  “Shore, there’s the ol’ shack—” An oath cut him short. “Damnation! I want the truth,”

  Lesurge grated. “If I tie you to a tree and let my men use their quirts it may quicken your memory.” Mary Ducane interposed. “Paul, you are speaking to my uncle. If he has forgotten He waved her to silence. “There are things you do not know; he is plotting to rob you.”