Shoot-out at Split Rock (7 page)

Sudden did not reply. Directly the rider had come within the circle of firelight ^ had seen that it was Jethro Bau-dry, and ^fo^ some reason he did not attempt to track down, the aversion he had experienced on first meeting the man returned.

"And where is Sam? Not working while his men warm their hands, I hope?" Baudry went on.

"You'U find Mister Eden in the wagon, seh," the cowboy said stiffly, and walked away.

He rode over to the wagon, got down, and looked in. By the light of the hanging oil lamp he saw the invalid, pale and haggard, but obviously on the mend.

"Hello, Sam, what's the meaning of this?" he greeted.

The visitor Ustened in silence to the story and then gave his opinion:

"Looks like redskins; who else would want to lay you out?"

"You can search me. But how come you're here, Jethro?"

"Meeting a man at Doan's store—some way down the river. Got news of a herd arriving and suspicioned it might be the S-E. You're making good time, Sam."

"Barrin' this," Eden tapped his chest, "we've been lucky. Mebbe all our troubles is to come."

"Likely enough, and that's one reason I wanted to see you," Baudry said. "I've been told there's some pretty tough gangs haunting the trail, waiting for herds, and I thought I'd warn you to be on the lookout."

"Might good o' you, Jethro," the rancher said warmly. "I've had word a'ready to the same effect, but—" his eyes twinkled—"if they wait for the S-E they're hable to get tired o' the job."

Baudry looked puzzled.

"We're aimin' to turn west n* cut our own trail," Eden explained triumphantly.

"You're a sly old fox, Sam," the gambler said. "But isn't it risky? You may euchre the rustlers but you'll certainly run into the redskins."

"I figure them varmints will be watchin' the trail too," the cattleman argued. "As for bein' risky, the whole damn drive is that. Seen anythin' of another herd this way?"

"Yes, they crossed some miles lower down—just beat the flood. The river's dropping—you'll get over tomorrow, -I'd say."

"Hope so. I fair hate hangin' about. Comin' with us, Jethro?"

The gambler shook his head, and rose. "Have to wait for my man," he said. "I'll be seeing you later. Good luck to you, Sam."

The river next morning showed an appreciable fall but there still was a vast volume of reddish, sand-laden water sweeping swiftly between the bluff banks, and to the group of men studying the swirling currents it was clear that the crossing would be a difficult and perilous undertaking.

"I guess we gotta take a chance, boys," the foreman decided. "Another storm an' we might be held up here for days. What's yore opinion, Jim?"

"She's a gamble, with the odds against us," was Sudden's verdict. "But we've played in luck, so far.'*

The foreman had already made up his mind and presently the leaders of the herd appeared, trotting briskly, for in view of the crossing they had been kept thirsty. At the sight of the turgid flood, however, they balked and would have turned but for the riders on both flanks, who with shouts and opprobrious epithets drove them into the water. There they stood, knee-deep, snorting and bawling with fright, the forces of the stream almost sweeping them from their feet. Beyond this they would not budge until Sudden splashed in, roped the foremost steer round the horns, and shpping the other end of his lariat across the broad breast of Thunder, headed for the far bank.

Willy-nilly, the captive was dragged head-long into the flood and struck out lustily, seeing which—after a brief hesitation—those behind followed. In a few moments, a steady string of homed heads was moving across the river. Then came one of those causes of calamity the trail driver always had to expect. A fitful puff of wind whipped the surface of the stream into waves and flimg them in the faces of the leading steers. Instantiy they attempted to retreat but the quirts of the accompanying cowboys prevented this, and when the animals saw tiieir leader majestically proceeding through the broken water, they too went on. Sudden, having pulled his victim up the far shore, removed the loop, and grinned at the disgruntled-looking brute, which seemed disposed to go "on the prod.'*

The foreman met him, his face beaming. "Jim, that was a daddy of an idea," he said. "You shore know cows."

"Shucks," Sudden smiled. "The critters is like humans— give 'em a lead an' theyTl go most anywheres."

"Say, Jim, do you figure we've razzle-dazzled Rogue?" Sandy asked.

"Mebbe, but he's a foxy fella an' now he knows we ain't workin' for him he's probably trackin' us," Sudden rephed. "But I expect we've put one over on other gents watchin' the trail."

They were riding some five himdred yards ahead of the herd, for being in Indian territory, scouts were deemed necessary, and, since they were no longer following a used trail, the easiest route had to be selected. More than

a week had passed since they left Red River and during most of the time they had traveled westward before turning north again. Not one of the outfit had more than a vague notion of their location, for save to the Indians and a few trappers and buffalo hunters, this was unknown country.

"Plenty lonesome in these parts," Sandy remarked presently. "We ain't seen a soul since the Red."

"Suits me," his friend replied. "Anybody we met would likely be hostile."

The foreman agreed to call it a day, camp was made near a thicket of oak and mesquite, while the cattle were bunched on the flat top of a swell not far away. There was no water but the animals had had enough the night before, and the longhom could travel forty-eight hours without drinking. Nevertheless, the lack of it made the herd restive and Jeff anxious.

"You look as happy as a wet hen," Sandy said to Sudden. "What's bitin' you?"

"I dunno, Jim, an' that's a fact, but I got a feelin' trouble is comin'."

"Trouble alius is comin' an' worryin' won't stop it. Get such fool notions outa the thing diat holds yore hat up, an' keep a close eye on them dumed cows; half of 'em ain't even dozin' yet."

"They're missin' the water," Sandy said. He glanced at the sky, in which only a few faint stars were showing. "She's a gaudy night for a stampede."

"Qose yore trap, you red-headed misery," Sudden grinned.

Riding back to the camp he heard the mournful, weird howl of a coyote and a moment later came an answering cry. He pulled up in doubt; to his trained ear they did not sound just right. Smiling sardonically at the reflection that Sandy had made him nervy, he nevertheless circled to approach the rear of the timber behind the camp, whence the cries had seemed to come. This took some time, for the thicket was larger than he had thought and it was incumbent to move cautiously. Reaching ^e trees, he sat listening; the indistinct mutter of a voice came to him. Slipping from his saddle, he crept into the undergrowth. It was nervous work; once he put a hand on a clammy,

writhing form and heard a sharp hiss as the reptile slithered away. Sudden shivered.

"Fools for luck," he murmured. "If rattlers didn't have to coil afore they can strike ..."

He did not pursue the unpleasant reflection, but pulled a gun and felt ahead with it before making a move. The voice was nearer now, only a few yards distant, but he could see nothing of the owner.

"Make a good job of it an' the two-fifty is youm. You'll have a clear field when the cows start runnin'—^which'll be soon now. Them hombres will have suthin' else to occupy 'em."

The eavesdropper stiffened; he knew that voice. Navajo! He could not hear the mumbled reply, but a cracking twig told him that the men were moving—away from him. As silently as speed would permit he retraced his steps, his braia busy with the problem so abruptly presented. Rogue's men were to stampede the herd and something was to be tried. It was not difficult to guess what this was. He hurried to his horse, leapt into the saddle, and raced for the camp.

The sight there drew an oath from his lips. Seated round the cook's fire were Sam Eden, Jeff, and the two women; blanketed forms at the other fire were preparing for their turn of night-riding; they were doomed to have their rest rudely interrupted. Sudden strode up to the foreman.

"Jeff, I've just got wind of a plot to run off the cows— right now," he cried. "Get busy—^no time to talk." He turned to his employer. "You didn't oughta be here, seh," he went on. "You ..."

An outburst of gun fire and wild yells from over the plain, with the dr ummin g thunder of thudding hoofs cut him short.

"God! they've done it!" he exclaimed.

Stooping swiftly, he seized the seated cattleman by the shoulder and thrust him sideways to the ground. Almost at the same instant, a jet of yellow flame punctured the gloom surrounding the camp and a bullet buried itself in the log against which the invaUd had been leaning. Sudden's gun barked viciously, twice, and the reports were followed by the breaking of dead wood, as a body falling among the bushes and then— silence.

"Guess I got him," he said quietly. "Saw the glint o' the fire on his gun barrel—just in time."

Though the foreman was at first stunned by the abruptness of the calamity his natural sturdiness soon reasserted itself. The awakened sleepers were sent to the rope corral for mounts, the cattleman, vehemently cursing his helplessness, was lifted back into the wagon, and the women ordered to stay in it also.

Sending the others on, Jeff and Sudden turned toward the spot whence the bushwhacker had fired. Sprawling in the undergrowth was the body of a man. Sudden turned it over and struck a match.

"Lasker!" the foreman breathed. "Well, I'm damned."

Both bullets had penetrated his chest and the fellow must have died instantly. Sudden was conscious of no regret; he had exterminated a cowardly assassin who was willing to kill for gold; it was a scoundrel less in a land where there were all too many. Leaving the corpse in the bushes, they rode to the bedding ground. Jeff was puzzling over this latest development.

"Lasker, huh? Never did cotton to him, somehow," he mused. "Likely he was planted on us, an' mebbe we've bin follered right along." He looked curiously at the man beside him. "How did you git on to it, Jim?"

Sudden told of the coyote calls and the fragment of conversation he had overheard, but did not reveal that he recognized one of the voices. He had just finished when a limping figure carrying a saddle, loomed up out of the gloom. It proved to be Sandy.

"You hurt?" Sudden asked, observing that the boy staggered.

"Bullet burned my ribs—nothin' broke," was the reply.

"What happened?" This from the foreman.

"You can search me. First we knowed was the fireworks an' the shoutin'—they musta crept up on us. An' beheve me, them steers didn't wait to ask questions none whatever. I tried to head 'em off an' some jasper started slingin' lead—got my boss too, blast his soul."

"Which way was the herd traveMn'?" Jeff asked.

"West—^must be damn near the Pacific Slope by now," was the bitter retort. "Gawd, what a mess!"

"How many of 'em?"

"Couldn't say. It was as dark as the inside of a cow. I on'y saw the fella who creased me. Fancy I nicked him—heard him cuss."

Sandy assured them he could make the camp unaided and the other two rode on. Mile after mile was covered without a trace of the missing herd save the hoofprints which showed they were following at last a portion of it. At length, in the dim, grey light of the dawn, they saw two riders driviog a bunch of about a hundred steers. They were less than half a mile distant and not hurrying, apparently deeming themselves safe from pursuit. Sudden pulled his rifle from the sheath.

"Hold on, Jim, they may be our fellas," Jeff warned his companion.

"They wouldn't be headed west," Sudden pointed out.

"That's so," the foreman admitted, "but I'd ruther be shore than sorry. I'll give 'em a hail our boys would rec-kemize. They can't outrun us with the cows."

His voice rang out in a shrill cowboy call, familiar on many ranges, but with variations Sudden had not heard before. The result dispelled their doubt effectively. The riders' heads jerked round and then their right arms rose and fell as they vigorously pUed the quirt. Sudden's face was grim as he leveled his weapon.

"Steady, boy," he said to his horse, and pulled the trigger.

They saw the pony on the right stumble and fall, throwing its rider headlong. The other man, with no more than a glance at his companion, spurred his mount furiously and soon left the herd behind. Sudden sent an unavailing shot which only served to hurry his movements. A few moments brought them to the fallen man and one look at the oddly twisted, huddled form told them what had happened.

"Broke his neck," Jeff said. "You don't know the gent, I s'pose, Jim?"

The reply in the negative was not all the truth, for Sudden had seen the fellow during his sojourn with Rogue.

"Well, let's git after them cows," the foreman said, adding harshly, "TTiis ain't my day for buryin' cattle thieves."

The stolen steers had not run far and the S-E men soon had them rounded up and pointed east again. So they rode in silence for an hour, and then, from the mouth of

a shallow arroyo, a horseman emerged and hailed them joyfully:

" 'Lo Jeff. So you got some too?" It was Dumpy, and as he spoke, his sweaty, dirt-laden features broke into a tired grin of welcome. "Where's the rest o' the outfit?"

The foreman raised his shoulders. "You alone?" he asked.

"Jed's in there—'* Dimipy pointed to the arroyo— "An' say, we got near three hundred cows. She's a dandy place, plenty feed, a pond, an' the way in is the on'y way out."

"See here, Jeff, why not fetch the wagon an' camp in the arroyo?" Sudden suggested. "Two men could hold the herd in there while the rest of us comb the country."

"Yo're right, Jim," the foreman agreed. "She's our best bet."

Having driven the beasts they had brought through the narrow entrance to the gully, they again rode east, taking Dimapy with them. As they approached the spot where the stampede had taken place the sight of cattle and encircling riders brought a lighter look to Jeff's face.

"We'll make a herd yet, boy," he said.