Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) (42 page)

 
          
“Dugout
has shown up ten strong but
I’m fearin’
we’ve
overlooked a bet,” he said. “Turvey’s pulled his freight an’ it ain’t hard to
guess where he’s gone.”

 
          
“But
he didn’t know.”

 
          
“May
have heard me talkin’ to Frosty—he was late for supper, ‘cordin’ to Lazy, said
his hoss was troublesome.”

 
          
Before
the puncher could reply, another voice chimed in.

 
          
“By
Christmas, if it isn’t Steve Lagley. How are you, old grumbler?”

 
          
Lagley
spun round, a picture of perturbation, but he managed to grasp the extended
hand, staring hard the while. “Mighty glad to see yu agin, Master Jeff,” he
said.

 
          
“What
are you looking for—a red mask?” Keith asked slyly.

 
          
The
foreman’s coppery skin took on a purple tinge. “No, I on’y wanta see that once
more, through the sights o’ my gun.”

 
          
“Don’t
you do it,” the young man cried. “He’s my meat.”

 
          
“Yo’re
both wrong—he’s mine,” Sudden corrected. He looked at Keith. “There’s Dealtry;
go an’ speak with him.”

 
          
The
boy
hesitated
a mere second, squared his shoulders,
stepped to where the officer was standing, and said quietly: “Morning,
sheriff.”

 
          
Dealtry,
who had just dismounted, turned, scanned him closely, and then said, “Well,
Jeff, I’ve had some hard thoughts ‘bout you; wrongly, as it now appears.”

 
          
“I
didn’t shoot Dan,” Keith said earnestly. “We were friends, and our difference
would have been forgotten in the morning. I suppose it was my running away …”

 
          
“Yeah,
it looked bad. If you’d stayed—but there, I reckon `if’ is the cussedest word
in the world. What Green told me yestiddy made it
plain.
All I want now is to slant a gun on that—.”

 
          
“Yo’re
fourth on the list an’ ain’t got a chance,” Sudden grinned. “How much help yu
brought?”

 
          
“There’s
on’y a dozen of us but we’re good,” was the sheriff’s modest reply. “Got any plan?”

 
          
Mart
Merry, the Double K foreman, and his two men joined the group, and the rancher
answered the question.

 
          
“There’s
but two ways into the durn place. My idea is to split our force an’ attack ‘em
both at the same time. Yu agree, Jim?”

 
          
“Nothin’
else for it,” the cowboy concurred. “Mart, yu an’ Dealtry can take this
side,
an’ the Double K an’ Dugout men the other.”

 
          
“What
are yu goin’ to do, Jim?” the rancher asked.

 
          
“I
want a few fellas who can shoot fast an’ arc willin’ to gamble. Yu see, I know
of another way in—hit on it by chance—an’ it’s possible, with trouble both ends
o’ the town, it may be overlooked.
Once in, mebbe we can grab
the leader, an’ anyway, we’ll have the gates between two fires.
What yu
think of it, Steve?”

 
          
“It’s
good,” Lagley said. “Likewise, it’s a Double K job.
Here’s
three of us—”

 
          
“Four,”
Keith put in quietly.

 
          
“An’
I can soon git the others—they’ll all wanta come.”

 
          
“Three
more will do—
them
gates are a tough proposi tion,”
Sudden decided. “Go get ‘em, Steve.” He followed as the foreman went to his
horse. “Yu know where to meet us?”

 
          
“Yeah.
How d’yu learn ‘bout that way in, Jim?”

 
          
“Yu
showed it me,” the puncher smiled.

 
          
“Yo’re
lettin’ me down mighty easy; I ain’t forgettin’ it.” Further preparations for
the fray did not take long. Sudden had a final word.

 
          
“We
won’t make a move till yu got ‘em real interested at both ends. So
long,
an’ good luck.”

 
          
Soon
after he had gone, Merry and the sheriff set out, their men straggling behind.
The cowboys, for the most part, jested and poked fun at one another,
indifferent to the fact that they were about to risk their lives, but the Red
Rock men rode with grave, determined
faces :
they were
there to administer the law.

 
          
Less
than an hour’s ride brought them within sight of their objective, a gate of
heavy timber set between unscaleable heights which, continuing for about a
hundred yards, walled in the narrow approach. Dealtry pulled up with an
exclamation of dismay.

 
          
“Phew!
That’s a nice nut to crack, Mart,” he said. “How in blue blazes are we to git
near?”

 
          
“Leave
the hosses round the bend an’ try to sneak up—they won’t find aimin’ too easy
if we keep the lead flyin’.”

 
          
“I’ll
give ‘em a chance first,” the sheriff replied.

 
          
Before
the rancher could protest, he rode forward, alone, right hand raised, palm
outwards, the Indian form of the white flag. He had not proceeded far when the
ugly features of Roden bobbed up behind the barrier.

 
          
“That’ll
be near enough,” he called. “Who are you an’ what’s yore errand?”

 
          
“I’m
the sheriff o’ Red Rock, an’ I’m lookin’ for a fella named Lander.”

 
          
“Never heard of him.”

 
          
“He
hides his face behind a red mask,” Dealtry went on. “Turn him over to me,
surrender yoreselves, an’ I’ll deal with you as leniently as the law will let
me. That’s my only offer.”

 
          
“An’
here’s mine,” Roden retorted. “Git to hell outa here or I’ll send you there.
Scat!” He fired as he finished, and the bullet
ballooned
the dust under the belly of the officer’s horse. “That’s the on’y ca’tridge I’m
wastin’,” he added.

 
          
Dealtry
paced slowly back to his companions. The horses were bestowed safely, and the
men, prone on their stomachs and taking advantage of any inequality in the
ground which would serve as shelter, began a steady bombardment. The besieged
replied, but the hail of lead soon rendered the loopholes in the gate
dangerous, and their response slackened. During a slight lull, the muffled
crash of gun-fire in the distance announced that the second attack had
commenced.

 
          
The
Double K cowboys and their supporters from Dugout had, in fact, the harder
task, and Lanky—who had been appointed leader—muttered grotesque oaths as he
surveyed the narrow approach, with its perpendicular cliff on one side and
precipice on the other.

 
          
“What
we want is wings, an’ the on’y kind we’re liable to git’ll have a harp thrown
in,” he grumbled. “Hey, Jansen, what’s that young cannon yo’re totin’?”

 
          
“She’s
an old Sharps buffalo gun,” the store-keeper replied. “Kicks like a mule, but
throws a two-ounce slug what’ll go through a man like he ain’t there.”

 
          
“Can
yu use her?”

 
          
“I
expect there’s some here could shoot better,” Jansen confessed.

 
          
“Yu
take my Winchester an’ lemme try her,” Lanky suggested.

 
          
Flattened
out in a little hollow, he cuddled the stock of the weapon, took careful aim, and
fired. The shrill burst of profanity and tornado of lead which followed the
boom of thebig gun denoted that damage had been done. Afterwards they learned
that the shot had passed through a loophole, shattered the chest of a bandit
about to fire, and permanently crippled another behind him.

 
          
“She’s
bully,” Lanky said, ejecting the empty shell and pushing in a second.
“If we had six o’ these, we’d knock that blame’ gate to
hellangone.”

 
          
Meanwhile,
Sudden and his party were preparing to get into the game. The topmost cave, at
least, seemed to be unguarded, and a rope having been adjusted, Sudden and
Lagley slid down to investigate. A cautious peep at the street below showed it
to be deserted; the ladder for the next step in the descent was in position.

 
          
“Anybody
watchin’ will be at the bottom,” Sudden said. “Call the boys.”

 
          
Keith
and the other four joined them. In the cave below they again found a ladder,
and silence, save for the dulled, spiteful voices of the guns outside. A third
stage,
and a querulous remark drifted up to them: “Just our
luck to be tied here, missin’ all the fun. I told Turvey they wouldn’t
know—hello, Flicksy, how’s it goin’?”

 
          
“Bad,”
came
the reply. “Th’ gate can’t last much longer—they
got a buffalo gun what’s makin’ matchwood of it. Turvey an’ two more
is
cashed an’ most of us chipped some.”

 
          
“What
about them?”

 
          
“I
sent one over
th
’ edge an’ I reckon he won’t feel th’
bump when he lands, but we dassen’t show a nose. I du no who cut them damn
loopholes, but …” The stream of blasphemies died away in the distance.

 
          
“Mebbe
we ain’t so unlucky after all,” a new voice said. There were two of them,
squatting near the entrance to the cave, rifles within reach. Noiselessly as
cats, the cowboys crept down the ladder, and before the surprised sentinels
could utter a sound, they were roped, gagged, and carried to the floor above.
So far, all had gone well, but the crucial moment had come. Sudden had his plan
ready.

 
          
“Jeff
an’ Frosty will come with me to search out Miss Keith an’ Satan,” he said. “The
rest o’ yu can drive these dawgs from the Dugout gate an’ let our lads in.”

 
          
With
his two companions, he ran swiftly across the open space, kicked wide the door
of the Chief’s quarters and dashed in, only to hear the slam of the trap as it
fell into place.

 
          
“Damnation,
he must have seen us,” he cried.

 
          
They
uncovered the opening to see the ladder lying below. Sudden did not hesitate;
hanging by his hands, he dropped, landing safely; the others followed. Flinging
back a second trapdoor, they raced down into the room Jeff knew so well; it was
empty. Sudden sprang to the window just in time to see the man they sought leap
into the saddle of his black and spur the animal into the undergrowth. “You
taught me that trick, Sudden,” came the shouted taunt. The swinging rope-ladder
seemed a further mockery.

 
          
“Can’t
we follow?” Keith asked despairingly.

 
          
“Yeah, when we get hosses.
He had his getaway all fixed, if
the cards went against him. But he was alone. C’mon, we’re wasting time.”

 
          
They
made their way up again to find a very different scene. The eastern gate had
fallen, and the Double K cowboys, shouting and shooting, were driving the
remnant of its defenders before them. From the drifting clouds of thin blue
smoke came spits of flame and the crack of exploding cartridges. Yells of
defiance, curses and groans of stricken men added to the clamour. Though the
outlaws fought with the courage of cornered beasts, Sudden could see that
victory was but a matter of time.

 
          
“We
gotta find someone who can give us news o’ Miss Keith,” he said.