Sudden--Troubleshooter (A Sudden Western) #5 (17 page)
Read Sudden--Troubleshooter (A Sudden Western) #5 Online
Authors: Frederick H. Christian
Tags: #cowboys, #outlaws, #gunslingers, #frederick h christian, #oliver strange, #sudden, #jim green, #old west pulp fiction
‘Yu damned interfering old
fool,’ he snarled.
‘
Now
we’ll see who’s going to run the
Saber!’
He had hardly said the
words when the sound of hoof-beats struck dread into his black
heart. Mouthing a
terrible oath, he sprang
once more to the window. There, cantering into the yard, he
recognized the Marshal of Yavapai, Tom Appleby.
Sixteen
THERE
HAD been a grim council of war at the Harris ranch. After
Appleby had left, Sudden had learned for the first time of the
murder of Johnstone and Newley. Harris was deeply distressed not
only by the terrible blow that the news of his friends’ death had
been but by the behavior of the Marshal, which had resulted in
Sudden expelling the lawman from the JH.
‘I ain’t suggestin’ yu
didn’t do the right thing, Jim,’ said Harris, a deep frown on his
face. ‘On’y now we ain’t even got a friend in court. If Saber
chooses to ride all over us in Yavapai I’m bettin’ Tom will turn a
blind eye.’
‘That being so, I’m
thinkin’ he was no friend in the first place,’ put in
Taylor.
‘Alex is right,’ added
Kitson. ‘If Tom Appleby is the kind o’ man to let an affair o’ this
nature interfere with the way he does his job, then we’re a sight
better off on our own.’
‘I’m just a wee bit
concerned about Terry sendin’ his man into town to bring back the
bodies’ Alex Taylor said after a pause. ‘If Tom Appleby is as mean
as ye all seem to think, then the poor chap oughtn’t to go in
alone. That Cameron would find him easy meat, I’m
guessin’.’
Jake Harris got to his feet and replenished
his cup from the pot on the stove.
‘Those boys was my
friends,’ he announced. ‘I’ll go in for their bodies myself. I want
to see they’re buried decent.’
There was a chorus of disagreement and much
dismay at this statement. Harris shook his head.
‘If I don’t go, folks are
goin’ to say we was too yeller to bury our dead,’ Jake said. I got
my pride, too.’
‘That’ll look right
handsome on yore tombstone,’ Sudden interjected flatly.
Harris flushed. ‘Yu ain’t
got no call to talk to me like that, Jim,’ he protested.
Sudden nodded, a smile making his next words
disarming.
‘Jake, yo’re tryin’ to do
the right thing, an’ I respect that. But yu got to admit that
Philadelphia in there could probably give yu a head start an’
outdraw yu. What chance do yu reckon yu’d have agin someone like
Cameron?’
Alex Taylor nodded in
agreement with Sudden’s words. ‘Aye, they’re a breed o’ scum, these
gunfighters. All the same. Cold killers, without so much as a
breath o’ decency in their bodies. Yon Cameron’ll no doubt be
struttin’ about Yavapai, free as air, boastin’ his deeds. An’ no
doubt cuttin’ a couple more notches on his gun butts.’ He spat
loudly. ‘Scum!’
Sudden’s face was cold and
hard, and he stood abruptly. There was, had any of them noticed it,
a hint of pain in his eyes, but he quickly concealed it beneath
hooded lids and spoke to his employer.
‘Yu talk to Shorty. Get the
full story outa him. He can prove Randy an’ Dancy is up to their
necks in somethin’, but I ain’t quite figgered what,
yet.’
Harris looked at Sudden in
surprise. ‘Yu goin’ somewhere?’ he asked.
A faint smile touched the
corners of Sudden’s mouth. ‘I’m goin’ to play a hunch. If what I
think is right, then we’re going to be mighty close to knowin’
who’s behind all this trouble.’
‘Yu mean Gunnison?’ asked
Taylor.
‘Lafe Gunnison? I don’t
know for shore,’ replied Sudden. ‘I’m thinkin’ he knows as much as
yu do, Alex, about the whole thing. Mebbe less.’
With those words he left
Taylor staring at his retreating back with open mouth. When Sudden
had
closed
the door
behind him he turned to the others.
‘I’ve heard some things
said in my time that I’ve not understood,’ he complained. ‘But if
Lafe Gunnison
knows less than I do about
what’s been happenin’ in this valley, then I reckon he must be one
step short o’ deaf! ’Cause I don’t know a thing!’
Seventeen
SUDDEN’S
FACE was set as he left the Harris house, walking
around the side of the building to the corral where Midnight
awaited. Gradually his tension eased, and he managed a smile.
‘Oughta be used to bein’ called names by now,’ he told himself
ruefully. ‘Still gets under my skin, somehow.’ He paused as he
approached the window of Philadelphia’s bedroom, and after a
moment’s thought, tapped on it. It was opened from inside by Susan
Harris. Sudden could see Philadelphia leaning outwards from the bed
to see who it was. He grinned at the cocked revolver in the
youngster’s hand.
‘Don’t shoot,’ he smiled.
‘I’m one o’ them friendly Injuns.’
‘All look the same to me,’
scowled Philadelphia. ‘Where yu gallivantin’ off to now,
Jim?’
‘Got me a mite o’ ridin’ to
do,’ he told them both. ‘How’s the patient, ma’am?’
‘Insists he’s well enough
to walk,’ she said, a touch of asperity in her voice. ‘Such
nonsense. I actually found him up, out of bed, when I came in this
morning.’
Philadelphia grinned
unabashedly. ‘Heck, I c’n stand if I got to. I shore ain’t in no
hurry, though.’ His teasing smile brought roses into Susan’s cheeks
and she made a playful slap at his head which he ducked without
ceasing to smile.
‘Afore I go,’ Green said.
‘I forgot to tell yore Pa somethin’, an’ I’d ruther not go back in
… tell him not to send the Swede into Yavapai. Tell him I’ll bring
Reb an’ Stan’s bodies home.’
Philadelphia sat up, his eyebrows high on
his forehead.
‘Jim, yu can’t go in alone.
Let me come with yu. Or
take some o’ the
others-’ He trailed off as Sudden
shook his
head.
‘Don’t tell yore Pa till
I’ve left,’ he admonished Susan.
She nodded acceptance of
this condition, with only a murmured, ‘Good luck, Jim.’
He smiled at her. ‘I’ll be
back around nightfall,’ he said. ‘Tell ’em in there not to shoot
afore they see the whites o’ my eyes.’
Then he was gone, leaving the girl biting
her lip. She closed the window slowly and turned to ask her patient
a question.
‘Don’t yu worry none,’ he
told her. ‘Jim’s a good man. If he says he’ll be back at nightfall,
he’ll be back.’
And to himself he added, ‘I
shore hope I’m right.’
It took Sudden less than
half an hour to get to Johnstone’s place. Dust lay thick on the
furniture and shelves, and a rat scurried across the floor as he
entered the back room. The Virginian’s house was a small one, with
a large living-room, a bedroom, and a lean-to at the back of the
house where Johnstone had kept all his bridles, saddle, and other
implements for use on the farm. With the shovel which he had
brought along Sudden tested the dirt floor. Across the room in
parallel lines he moved, slowly chunking the blade of the tool into
the ground as deeply as he could, repeating the process every six
inches or so. He worked away steadily for nearly an hour before the
sound of the shovel entering the earth changed slightly. He
straightened, nodded, bent to his task. The sweat poured off him as
he turned the earth, hard packed from years of pounding. In another
hour he had found what he wanted, filled in the hole, and sluiced
cold water over his grimy face and arms. Then, his face grim, he
saddled up again and pointed Midnight south for Yavapai. The recent
rains had washed the prairies emerald green, and larks caroled
their way to heaven as he passed threateningly close to their
hidden nests. The puncher saw none of this. His mind was occupied
with dark thoughts that blinded him to the beauty of the
day.
He reached the town of
Yavapai shortly before two o’clock. His eyes were narrowed and his
air preoccupied. A pattern of villainy so immense was appearing
that it seemed almost unbelievable, and yet it was the only
theory which fitted the events and the facts he
knew.
He rode directly to the squat adobe building
which housed the Yavapai Valley Bank, spending almost an hour in
the locked office of Granger, the manager. Granger accompanied
Sudden to the door when he left, a worried expression on his
normally bland face.
‘I do hope I’ve done right,
Mr. Green,’ he said, wringing his hands.
‘Yu write them letters to
the men whose names I gave yu,’ the puncher told him. ‘Yu’ll find
they’ll back me up. I’m obliged for all yore help. In the meantime,
yu’ll keep what I told yu to yoreself, o’ course.’
‘But of course, Mr. Green,’
protested Granger. ‘It has always been our policy to.’
‘That’s fine, seh,’ Sudden
broke in. ‘Yu’ll excuse me.’
His jaw set. Rarely had he
ever set out to deliberately push another human being beyond the
borderline, to provoke him deliberately into a fight; but he knew
that there would be no other way. Cameron was a festering sore, and
he had to be excised. Sudden knew it, but the thought gave him no
pleasure. With a measured stride he walked up the street towards
Tyler’s.
Eighteen
TYLER
BUSTLED up the length of the bar as Sudden entered the saloon,
drying his hands upon the striped apron he always wore.
‘Green, ain’t it?’ he
asked. ‘Ain’t seen yu in town since yu collided with Jim Dancy. Yu
been workin’ up on the Mesquites, I heard.’
‘Yu heard right,’ Sudden
told him as the bartender poured him a drink.
Tyler’s hand was unsteady,
and with his head down he murmured, ‘Take my advice an’ walk out o’
here, Green. There’s a feller in here run in with a couple o’ yore
people. If he knows yo’re one o’ them there’ll be
trouble.’
‘Shucks, I ain’t huntin’ no
trouble,’ Sudden told him. ‘I just come in to take the bodies
back.’ His voice had risen slightly as he spoke, and carried far
enough for the men at the far end of the bar to hear his words.
Sudden noticed a man look up suddenly at the sound of his voice,
and from the description Jake and Philadelphia had given him, knew
that this was Wes Cameron. He did not reveal that he had noticed
the gunman, however, but remained staring down into his
drink.
Cameron’s voice cut coldly
through the low murmur of conversation which stilled abruptly at
his words.
‘Well, well, a pilgrim!
Step up, stranger, an’ I’ll buy yu a drink.’
Sudden shook his head. ‘I
got one,’ he said shortly.
Cameron’s expression
changed, and his cronies backed away uneasily as he bent his cold
gaze upon the unconcerned cowboy.
‘When Wes Cameron offers yu
a drink, mister, yu better take it!’
Sudden turned slowly to
face Cameron. Then, as if thinking better of something, he
shrugged, and returned to gazing moodily into his glass. The sheer
effrontery of his gesture was not lost upon the spectators, most of
whom awaited Cameron’s reaction with bated breath. One or two,
however, remembered this tall, slow-smiling man. One such leaned
over to his neighbor and whispered, ‘That’s the jasper had the
run-in with Jim Dancy.’
‘He must be crazy, talkin’
that way to Cameron!’ the other said.
‘Mebbe,’ retorted the first
speaker. ‘He don’t look it, though.’
Indeed, the puncher looked the complete
picture of unconcern as he leaned, elbows on the bar, frowning into
his drink.
Cameron elbowed his way through the knot of
men at the bar and stopped two feet from Sudden.
‘People usually look at me
when I’m talkin’ to them,’ the gunman snarled
poisonously.
Green half turned,
insolently eyed Cameron from head to foot, and said, with a brutal
clarity which carried
right across the
room, ‘Must be ’cause yu got such charmin’ manners.’
There was a scrabble of feet and chair legs
as the onlookers in the bar moved hurriedly out of the possible
line of fire. Surely this insolent cowpuncher could not continue to
talk to Cameron thus and live?
‘Ain’t I seen yu
somewheres?’ Cameron said. He was puzzled by the complete lack of
response to his name that this saturnine individual was snowing,
and somewhere in his brain a faint warning bell was ringing. There
was something familiar about the man, but what? He shrugged away
the feeling as Sudden replied:
‘Not if I seen yu
first.’
A murmur arose from the
onlookers, and Cameron swelled with rage as he heard it. Cameron’s
face was livid with rage; all of Yavapai hung on his next
words.
‘Yu better watch yore lip,
stranger! Yu know who I am?’
All sound stopped as Sudden
replied, ‘On’y Wes Cameron I ever heard of was a lily-livered
coyote who shot down farmers, kids, an’ young girls. I heard he was
the kind who’s sell the straw outa his mother’s kennel.’ He turned
to face the gaping gunman, all trace of his former lounging stance
gone. ‘Now that wouldn’t be yu, would it?’
For a single instant
Cameron stood stock still. Then the rage roared into his brain and
with an oath he clawed for the gun at his side. What happened next
was to become a legend in Yavapai. Cameron’s gun was not even clear
of the cut-away holster when the barrel of Sudden’s revolver
touched the gunman’s nose, while the puncher’s left hand stopped
the reflex upward action of Cameron’s unfinished draw. Cameron
froze, a cold slimy finger of fear probing his heart. He knew that
if he so much as blinked an eyelid this cold, slit-eyed devil who
had outdrawn him so incredibly could, with every justification in
the world, shoot him down. The killing light in his opponent’s eyes
confirmed it. Cameron did not move as the puncher gritted, ‘Let go
o’ yore gun!’