Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937) (14 page)

BOOK: Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937)
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“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’ll 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.

 
          
“Yo’re
the lucky guy,” Sudden mused aloud. “Wings is what a fella needs in these
parts.”

 
          
“He,
he,” Snowy cackled. “Fancy a cowboy wantin’ wings; wish for the moon, boy—you
got as good a chance.”

 
          
“Dessay
yo’re right,” Sudden laughed. “Well, they must be awkward things to get a coat
over, anyway.” The descent from the top of the ridge was shorter but
more steep
, and frequent precipices into which a slip would
hurl the traveller made it dangerous in the extreme. Most of it had to be
negotiated afoot, and both men breathed a sigh of relief when they reached
level ground. This was a small desert of sand and sagebrush, and having crossed
that, they encountered a second range of hills, more imposing and wilder than
the first. Sudden surveyed them with an expression of whimsical despair.

 
          
“If
yu’d told me I’d ‘a’ rode a goat,” he said.

 
          
“We
ain’t gotta climb this one,” Snowy replied. “We mosey along a piece through the
foothills; it ain’t fur now.” Despite the air of confidence he affected, Sudden
got the impression that his guide was not too sure; several times during the
day he had lagged behind, and the puncher had seen him furtively studying a
piece of paper, peering about as though in search of landmarks.

 
          
Dusk
was approaching when Snowy pulled up. “Pretty close now,” he said, “but I
reckon we’d better camp an’ wait for daylight. Oughta be a sort o’ cave where
we can build a fire what won’t be seen.” He pushed on through the brush and
then grinned at his companion as a shallow hole in the hillside came in view.

 
          
“Thar
she is, shore as cats has kittens,” he cried triumphantly. “Don’t seem
as no varmints has took up residence neither
.” Sudden
dismounted. “Somè varmint’ has built a fire,” he pointed out.

 
          
Snowy
laughed slyly. “He’s talkin’ to you. Leavin’ them ashes has lost me a lot o’
sleep—oughta buried ‘em.” The cowboy asked no questions—he believed in “letting
the other man talk.” They made a small fire—for it would be cold later on—and
ate some of the food they had brought. Then the prospector packed and lit a
battered pipe, leant back with a sigh of content, and watched the other’s deft
fingers roll a cigarette.

 
          
“I
ain’t been treatin’ yu right,” the puncher said presently. “I oughta be callin’
yu Ducane’.”

 
          
“Forget
it,” was the reply. “I’ve been `Snowy’ so long that half the time I don’t
reckernize my own name. So yo’re athrowin’ in with Lesurge, eh, Jim?”

 
          
“Looks
thataway, don’t it?”

 
          
“Yeah,
but things ain’t allus what they look like, an’ if I warn’t scared you’d blow
me to hellangone I’d call you a liar.”

 
          
“Now’s
yore time,” Sudden smiled. “1 ain’t liable to ruo yu out till yu’ve showed me
the mine.”

BOOK: Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937)
7.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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