Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 04 - Sudden Outlawed(1934) (30 page)

 
          
“Well,
yu don’t have to worry,” Tyson laughed. “He fired yu, didn’t he?
”.

 
          
“Yeah,
he fired us, shore enough,” the boy agreed. “But there’s Miss
Carol, that toad’s got his poisonous eye on her, an’ the
outfit—decent fellas—are
dependin’ on puttin’ that drive through.

 
          
They’re
our friends—still.”

 
          
“An’
not likin’ Mister Monte Jack nothin’ to notice we’re kind o’ hankerin’ to pile
him up,”

 
          
Sudden
added. He went on to tell of the decision he and Sandy had come to, and the
“still-hunter” listened, his bright little eyes darting from one to the other,
his jaw working on a plug of tobacco, alert as, and very like, a squirrel.

 
          
“Well,
I took a fancy to yu boys,” he said, when their plans had been made plain. “If
yo’re willin’, me an’ Betsy”—he patted the rifle beside him—“will take a hand.
Three pairs o’ peepers is better
nor two
, an’ I savvy
Injuns.”

 
          
The
cowboys were glad to have him, and said so. Apart from his bloodthirsty
occupation, there was a great deal that was attractive in this odd little man.
Moreover, they were already deeply in his debt, and neither of them was of the
type to forget that.

 
          
EARLY
on the following morning Tyson left them. “Hang on to the herd an’ I’ll be with
yu come dark, or sooner,” he said. Then he plunged into the thicket and was
lost to sight and sound in a few seconds.

 
          
They
spent a lazy day, their only concern being to keep under cover. Several times,
lying flat on a ridge, they got a sight of the herd, a long, twisted string of
dots, dipping into hollows, plodding up slopes, inexorably pushing northwards.
And though the distance was too great for him to recognize the rider, Sandy
cursed when he saw that Carol had a companion.

 
          
The
shadows were gathering when Tyson joined them in the dry arroyo where they had
decided to spend the night. He had the hump ribs of a buffalo calf, wrapped in
part of the skin, and a bow and arrows, for which, he grimly explained, the
late owner had no further use.

 
          
“I
can use her pretty good—lived with ‘Paches onct. She’ll fill the pot an’ save
powder.”

 
          
But
this was not what the cowboys were thinking of. A brave with a bullet in his
brain might well bring his tribesmen on the trail. The little man divined their
thoughts and grinned as he pushed a gory hank of black hair into his pack.

 
          
“Nothin’
to go grey over, boys,” he said lightly. “I used steel an’ blinded my tracks.
‘Sides, I’m wearin’ ‘Pache moccasins, so them devils will git the blame.
Allasame, I could ‘a’ shot him, so Betsy gits her tally.”

 
          
Calmly
he cut a nick in the stock of the gun, one more in that terrible register,
using the knife which had let the life out of the red man, and, as they knew,
must later have skinned and cut up the flesh they were about to eat. Life in
the wilds, however, knocked the fastidiousness out of one, and the broiled ribs
tasted none the worse.

 
          
Tyson
had, they learned, located the outlaw band a few miles east, creeping along on
the heels of the herd like a mountain cat, ready to pounce on its prey at the
propitious moment. He had counted a dozen men, and gathered that others were
away hunting.

 
          
“They
ain’t too well fixed for grub an’ is grumblin’,” he said.
‘A
mighty hard lot.
Eden will need all the help he can git, an’ then some.”

 
          
A
week passed and save that all parties were nearer their destination, the
position remained unchanged. Then, with the suddenness of a summer storm, danger
loomed up, dire and overwhelming.

 
          
Tyson’
had, as usual, after the morning meal, gone to discover possible signs of
activity in the outlaw’s camp, and his companions were riding leisurely in the
wake of the herd. It was Sandy who saw the “still-hunter” first.

 
          
“Tyson
is a-comin’ an’
ain’t losin’ no time neither,
” he
said.

 
          
In
fact, the little man—abandoning his customary Indian-like stride—was running,
and when, spurring their mounts, they met him, he dropped, gasping, on a nearby
mound. His usually mild features were hard and fierce.

 
          
“Trouble
ahead, boys,” he panted.

 
          
“Rogue
goin’ to strike?” Sudden asked.

 
          
“Naw,
Injuns,” the other replied. “Two score, mebbe even more—they
was
hidden—waitin’ to jump the herd.”

 
          
“No
chance o’ dodgin’ ‘em?”

 
          
“Not
a hope—the cattle
has
to go that way.
Them
war-whoops has picked the right place.

 
          
For
miles now the plain is narrow, with rough country both sides. There’s one spot
where they might hold the herd an’ make a fight of it.”

 
          
He
described it, and Sudden listened carefully. Sandy’s face was haggard with
anxiety.

 
          
“My God!
Jim, what can we do?” he asked.

 
          
Sudden
turned to Tyson. “Climb Sandy’s bronc an’ fetch Rogue,” he said. “Don’t let on
about us; yu just happened on the redskins, saw the herd, an’ figured that, as
a white man, he’d help his own kind.”

 
          
“Shore,
but I’ll git there quicker afoot—it’s rough goin’,” Tyson replied, and was
gone.

 
          
Sandy
stared at his companion in amazement. “Yu sendin’ for Rogue?” he gasped. Then
comprehension came to him and he chortled with delight. “Yu wily devil,” he
complimented.

 
          
“That
shore is great medicine. Do we warn the S E?”

 
          
“I
do; yu cross the trail an’ follow on the other side, keepin’ outa sight. I’ll
join yu later an’ mebbe the war-whoops’ll get a surprise.”

 
          
Sandy
was disappointed—he might have seen Carol—but he did not demur; the situation
was desperate, but he trusted this hard-faced friend of his and was prepared to
obey blindly. So he too went on his appointed errand, while Sudden spurred
after the herd. The latter passed the remuda in a cloud of dust and heard
Rollitt’s curse of astonishment. Sam Eden, sitting at the back-end of the
wagon, greeted the visitor with a glare as he reached for his gun. The young
man’s cold voice interrupted:

 
          
“Don’t
be a fool, Eden. If I’d come for that yu’d be halfway to hell by now. I’m here
to tell yu that a big bunch o’ redskins is layin’ for yu.”

 
          
The
rancher laughed jeeringly. “Yu don’t expect me to believe that yarn, do yu?” he
asked.

 
          
“No,
but I had to warn yu,” Sudden retorted
.“
Walk into the
trap if yu must; I’ll do what I can to get yu out. I’ve sent for aid.”

 
          
The
cattleman’s frowning brows went up at this. “Now I know yo’re lyin’—I’d say
there ain’t a settlement within a hundred mile. Where’d yu send—San Antonio?”
he sneered. “I passed word to Rogue,” was the calm reply.

 
          
With
the force of a blow, the statement took the rancher’s breath away. For a moment
he was speechless, and then, with a furious oath, he cried, “So that’s yore
scheme, huh? Rogue’s to come and help himself an’ I’m to let him. Now listen, I
ain’t swallerin’ yore Injuns, but I’d sooner they had the cows than that
bastard road-agent leader o’ yores. Get that.”

 
          
“Yu
seem damned anxious to make yore daughter a squaw.” The biting reminder only whipped
the rancher’s rage to a white heat. “Curse yu, I can fight my own battles,” he
roared. “I don’t want yore help
nor
his.”

 
          
“Allasame,
yu gotta have ‘em. I ain’t goin’ to see men I have worked with an’ liked
sacrificed to yore bull-headed obstinacy. Can’t yu savvy that just because
Rogue aims to steal yore herd later, he’s gotta protect it now? Hell, I must
put Jeff wise.”

 
          
The
black horse shot ahead of the wagon and with its disappearance the old man’s
fury evaporated, and the ability to reason returned. Scowling darkly he went
over the conversation again.

 
          
“Damnation,
he’s right,” he muttered aloud.

 
          
“O’
course he’s right, an’ allus has been,” said a sharp voice. Aunt Judy, from the
driving-seat of the vehicle shook a minatory finger at him. “That young fella
has a brain where yu on’y got bone, Sam Eden.”

 
          
“Put
a bridle on that tongue,” the cattleman snapped. “If yore husband had any sense
he’d ‘a’ taken a whip to yu years hack.”

 
          
“An’
if yu had any yu’d ‘a’ listened to Green ‘stead o’ that mealy-mouthed,
tat-faced cardsharp yo’re so fond of,” she countered.

 
          
“The
fat-faced cardsharp is obliged for your opinion, ma’am.”

 
          
Baudry
had just ridden up. Though his voice was studiously polite, his eyes were
venomous. The lady was not abashed.

 
          
“Yo’re
welcome,” she retorted, and vanished behind the canvas flaps.

 
          
“You
take a lot from your hired folk, Eden,” the guest said. “Shucks, women must
chatter, an’ she’d give her life for Carol,” the old man excused.

 
          
“Well,
that alone lets her off with me. What brought Green?” The other told him, and
the gambler’s face grew grave. “Seems to be nothing else to do, but it’s like
setting the fox to guard the chickens,” was his comment.

 
          
Meanwhile,
Sudden had reached the head of the herd and told his news to the astounded
foreman.

 
          
“A
piece along is a steep-walled gully with a’most no outlet,” he explained.
“Throw the cows, wagon, an’ remuda in there, take cover at the entrance, an’
wait. When yu don’t show up, the Injuns’ll come a-lookin’ for yu. If yu can
stand ‘em off for a while, there’s help on the way.”

 
          
“Help?”
ejaculated Jeff.
“Where in blazes from?”

 
          
“I’ve
sent for Rogue,” Sudden replied. “Yu see, he’s figurin’ to lift this
herd—presently, so he won’t stand by an’ let the redskins have it.”

 
          
The
foreman’s troubled face broke into a grin. “Gosh!
that’s
one bright idea, boy,” he exclaimed. “We can deal with that damned outlaw
later, but for the time we use him. What did the 0I’ Man
say
?”

 
          
“I
ain’t got time even to tell yu what he didn’t say,” the cowboy smiled. “Get
busy, ol’-timer, an’ if anybody starts shootin’ from behind the Injuns yu’ll
know that
me
an’ Sandy is sittin’ in.”

 
          
He
whirled his horse and raced for the far side of the trail. The foreman’s gaze
followed him reflectively. “Outlaw, huh?” he muttered. “Pity the damned country
ain’t got a lot more like him.”

 
          
Riding
ahead, he soon found the spot Sudden had described and saw its suitability. The
floor of the gully lay below the level of the plain, which sloped into it, and
the walls on either side were wellnigh vertical. The outlet at the far end was
too rough and steep even for longhorns to attempt unless badly scared. The
entrance was guarded by scrub and rocks which would afford good cover for the
defenders. He saw no sign of Indians and surmised, rightly, that knowing the
herd must come that
way,
they were not troubling to
watch its progress.