Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) (43 page)

 
          
At
that moment, Lazy emerged from one of the caverns with a prisoner; it was
Anita.

 
          
“Hi,
yu Frosty fella, look what I found,” he called out.

 
          
Sudden
went to them. “
yu’ve
found a very good friend o’ mine,
Lazy,” he said. “I’m obliged to yu for takin’ care of her.” The cowboy let go
the captive’s wrist as though it burned him. The girl’s dark eyes asked a
question.

 
          
“He
escaped—for the time,” Sudden told her. “We are looking for Miss Keith.”

 
          
“He
sent her away yesterday, with Silver, and the other woman,” she replied. “I saw
them pass along the valley, going west.”

 
          
She
could tell them no more, having had but a glimpse, but the news drove the blood
from Jeff’s cheeks and brought an oath to his lips. A burst of cheering from
the other gate, and flying figures seeking sanctuary in the cave-dwellings from
the pitiless leaden pellets, announced the triumph of the Twin Diamond
contingent. Hell City was taken. The firing died out, a little breeze dispelled
the veil of smoke and acrid smell of burnt powder; here and there, arms
outflung, face downwards, lay the form of what had lately been a man.

 
          
The
sheriff and Merry came hurrying up, both with the same question. The answer
left them glum indeed.

 
          
“Me,
Frosty, an’ Jeff is takin’ the trail soon as we get our hosses,” Sudden told
them.

 
          
“I’m
with you,” Dealtry said. “Mart, you ain’t built for speed; s’pose you stay to
clean house, an’ then come along if we ain’t back?”

 
          
“Suits
me,” the rancher replied.

 
          
“An’
Mart, look after Miss Anita here—we owe her a lot.” Sudden requested. “C’mon,
fellas, let’s get goin’.” He started and stopped.
“Which I’m
shorely dumb.
Where’d yu leave yore broncs, Mart? Just outside? We’ll use
some of ‘em —that’ll save time.”

 
          
Shortly
afterwards they were travelling westward at full speed. When they reached the
split in the trail, they had to decide which turning to take. Sudden got down
and studied the surface.

 
          
“Several
hosses have gone to the left
recent,” he said, “an
’
one of ‘em was in a hurry. Hello, what’s this?”

 
          
His
searching eyes had caught a gleam of white in the grass, and he picked it up.
The find proved to be a tiny fragment of linen, embroidered with the letters,
“J.K.” He passed it to Jeff, who needed only a glance.

 
          
“It’s
a bit of Joan’s handkerchief—she must have dropped it in the hope that someone
would follow.”

 
          
“Smart
of her to leave a signpost,” Sudden remarked, and smiled as he saw the boy slip
the said “signpost” into a pocket. “It’s a safe bet Satan is on his way to join
her.”

 
          
Frosty
was enjoying a private joke. “We are now leavin’ the place where I staged my
on’y hold-up an’ got away with thirty thousand cold, belongin’ to the Bosville
bank,” he stated, with a sly look at Dealtry.

 
          
“Best
tell a straight story, or the sheriff will pull yu in,” Sudden bantered. “An’
keep agoin’ while yo’re doin’ it.”

 
          
The
Double K rider obliged, telling the tale in a whimsical way which made two of
his hearers laugh; Dealtry listened with grave intentness, his gaze on the man
pounding along a pace ahead of him.

 
          
“Yo’re
an odd number, Jim,” he said. “If ever you take the crooked trail, I hope it
don’t lead you to these parts; you’d get us all guesin’—wrong.”

 
          
The
compliment brought a sardonic smile to the puncher’s lips; the sheriff did not
know that the man to whom he paid it had already a price on his head.

 
          
Some
eight miles past the Devil’s Bowl was a similar but smaller hollow, one side of
which sloped gently to the sagebrush plain which rose and fell unendingly to
the horizon, while the other climbed abruptly to a jagged ridge. At the farther
end, hedged in by pines, stood a great tooth of rock, streaked and splashed
with reds, greens, and yellows. At the foot of it, some ten yards apart, were a
couple of caves, and in front of them, a level expanse of scorched grass.

 
          
The
place was known as Painted Valley, and it was here that Silver and his charges
were waiting. The women, after a night passed in one of the natural shelters,
were sitting in the shade of the trees. The man was squatting on a big boulder
a little distance away, watching. The horses, still saddled
,were
tied to the pine-trunks. Joan regarded the animals wistfully. “Can’t we reach
them and escape?” she ventured.

 
          
“I
have no wish to,” Belle replied. “Even if it were possible, wandering in this
wilderness without supplies doesn’t appeal to me. Moreover, Silver has a gun.”

 
          
The
spoke seldom after this, for Belle seemed to have become infected with her
companion’s moodiness. The hours crept slowly by and the afternoon was well
advanced when Silver, who had left his post only to prepare a meal or water the
ponies, scrambled clumsily down and ran towards them. “He’s a-comin’ an’
ain’t losin’ no time neither,
” he rumbled.

 
          
Joan
retired to their cave; she would not be there to welcome him. Silver’s throaty
laugh followed her.

 
          
“Gone
to prink up, I s’pose,” he said. “She’s a good-looker, but I
knows
a better.”

 
          
His
meaning ogle incensed the woman. “Guard that tongue or your master shall cut it
out,” she replied fiercely. Ordinarily the threat would have made him cringe,
but this time she saw the mammoth shoulders quivering with silent mirth.

 
          
Swiftly
the black horse swept along the valley to pull up, panting. Bloody wounds,
dust-caked, where the spurs had bitten too deeply, showed it had been cruelly
ridden. The rider too was breathing heavily, and below the mask, his face was
white. He staggered a little as he alighted.

 
          
“What
has happened?” Belle asked.

 
          
“Hell
City is captured,” he told her. “I got away, but they are on my heels, three of
them, and one is the sheriff of Red Rock.”

 
          
“Why
is he in it?”

 
          
“I
shot his son. Curse it, they can’t be more than two miles away, and there’s
nowhere to hide here.”

 
          
“If we start at once … “

 
          
Impatiently
he shook his head. “They would run us down —we couldn’t blind our tracks.”

 
          
Belle
stepped to him, her eyes eager. “I’ve an idea, Jeff. We can trick them, and
gain time. It’s you they want.”

 
          
He
listened avidly. “It’s clever, damned clever, and should serve,” he said. “You
would do this for me?”

 
          
“Even
more, as you will learn,” she murmured. “Now, send Silver to the spring—he will
be out of sight there—give me your mask, and put Pluto at the entrance to the
second cave. A whistle will tell me when to act.”

 
          
“You
have a head, Belle,” he complimented. “I shall make for Willow Bend,
California. Meet me there, and we’ll conquer the world—together.”

 
          
He
handed her the disguise and turned quickly away to complete the preparations.
The black was placed at the mouth of the cave, but not until he had changed the
costly saddle for that on one of the other ponies. This occupied precious
moments, and he had but just finished and concealed himself when three horsemen
appeared on the far rim of the valley. He gave the signal, and at once a
figure, dressed like
himself
, the turned-back brim of
the soft hat clearly showing the red mask, darted out, leapt into the saddle of
the black, and shot away towards the plain. The new arrivals saw it, too, and
with a shrill yell, set off in pursuit. Satan’s expression was one of
triumphant derision.

 
          
“Run,
you mud-heads,” he muttered. “By the time you catch Pluto, tired as he is, I
shall be out of your reach. It will be a pity if they shoot you down, my Belle,
but it will save you a disappointment at Willow Bend, if there is such a
place.”

 
          
When
the riders had vanished, he entered the second cave and called softly, “Joan.”
The girl in the shadow turned, and he fell back as though he had encountered an
unseen obstacle.

 
          
“You?”
he gasped. “You—have dared—to play this prank?”

 
          
“Yes,
I dared,” Belle repeated steadily, but her heart was hammering. “I had the
courage to do that—for you.” The face she was seeing for the first time in its
entirety was that of a fiend. The right hand, fingers spread, moved slowly
towards his gun and she knew that death was very near. Her voice did not
falter. “Hear me, Jeff: the Double K is lost, and that girl could not bring it
back. What use would she be to you? I am different—your kind, the
wolf-breed—ready to war with the world. You have lost this throw, but such a
man as you is never beaten, he plays again—and wins.”

 
          
The
sinister hand had stopped. She drew herself up, stamped her foot, and cried,
“Am I not as desirable as that prim madam of whom you would tire in a month?”
The challenging charm of her brought a flash of life into the flinty eyes, and
she added softly, “Once you told me, `Love is all-powerful; it will find a way,
and it forgives.’ Well, I love, I have found a way, but it is for you to
forgive.”

 
          
She
stood with bent head, as in submission, but she felt that she had won. And so
it proved; her beauty, spirit, and subtle flattery had fired his imagination,
and wiped out—for the moment—his defeat. Impetuously he took her in his arms.

 
          
“By
Heaven, you’re right, girl,” he said. “I’ve been blind—”

 
          
The
low growl of a wild beast cut him short and he turned to see Silver at the
entrance, head down,
long
arms swinging.

 
          
“That’s
my woman,” the dwarf said thickly. “
you
promised if I
treated ‘em fair I should have her.”

 
          
Belle
recoiled from her lover with a look of loathing. “You —did—that?” she
whispered. “
you
would have given me to a —monster?”

 
          
“It
was
a pretence
, for your sake, Belle,” Satan
protested.
“I never meant to …” He saw that she did not
believe, and swung round on the intruder.
“Get out,” he ordered.

 
          
“I
want my woman,” Silver grunted. “I’m takin’ her—now.”

 
          
He
moved forward, dogged, threatening, teeth bared, the great paws of him opening
and shutting; desire had destroyed dread of his master, and he was blind to
everything but the prize he had been promised.

 
          
This
second defiance fanned Satan’s fury to a white heat. Snatching out a gun he
sent a bullet into the broad breast. Silver wavered, but came on. Again the
bandit fired, and this time the stricken man stopped, head swaying uncertainly
from side to side. Then, with glazing eyes and lips which moved soundlessly,
the ponderous body collapsed as though the puny legs could no longer support
it. Ashen-faced, the woman stared at it.

 
          
“You—murderer,”
she breathed.

 
          
Ere
the man could reply there
came
a voice from without:
“Lander, I’m waitin’ for yu.”