Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) (15 page)

 
          
“Lo,
Snap. What’s the trouble?’ Green asked.

 
          
Like
a flash the head of the prostrate man came round, and his left hand went to his
hip, only to fall away again when he saw who the newcomer was. He grinned.

 
          
“Two
jaspers over there cut down on me as I came along the trail,’ he explained.
“One of ‘em lifted my hat, an’ if I’d bin four inches taller’n I am
,
I’d be choosin’ my harp right now.’

       
“Know ‘em?’ asked Green.

 
          
“I
ain’t dead shore, but I got notions,’ replied the gunman. “There’s another
chunk o’ rock over there, an’ if yo’re goin’ to stay yu’d better freeze to it,
though there ain’t no call for yu to take a hand.’

 
          
“I’m
aimin’ to,’ Green returned, sliding down behind the cover indicated. “Two to
one ain’t fair, an’ I always did hate a bushwhacker anyways.’

 
          
“Good
for yu,’
assented
Snap. “We’ll give them coyotes a
little surprise. They’re shootin’ at my smoke; when the second feller fires,
give him hell.’

 
          
They
were
lying
on the slope of a saucer-like depression,
and about twenty yards lower down lay the trail to the ranch. Beyond this was a
level stretch of open grass from four to five

 
          
hundred
yards in width. On the far side the ground rose
again, and was covered with rock debris and brush. It was an ideal spot for an
ambush-party, for if they missed their aim they could not be approached without
deadly peril, and they could withdraw at any time unobserved.

 
          
Presently
a puff of smoke bellied out from a clump of brush opposite Green, and Snap
fired. Instantly another shot came from ten yards to the right, and a bullet
splintered the rock in front of the gunman. Green sent two shots in quick
succession to the address of the second marksman, and through the clear air
came
a stifled curse.

 
          
“Did
he get yu?’ asked a high pitched voice.

 
          
“Burned
my ear, blast him!’ came the reply. “How’d he get over there?
Must be a blamed grasshopper.’

 
          
“That
sounds like Dutch, an’ the other feller is Post Adams. I’d know that squeak of
his anywheres,’ commented Snap. “Watch out—I’m agoin’ to loose off.’

 
          
Two
shots came in rapid response, and Green promptly drove a bullet into the smoke
of the left-hand sniper, drawing forth further
curses,
and an anxious query from the other man. “Yu ain’t let him get yu again, have
yu?’

 
          
“Him?’
snorted the wounded man. “
Him?
There’s two of him
—them shots come from twenty yards apart. Come over an’ tie up my arm, an’
don’t talk like a damned idjut.’

 
          
“Pears
like I’m makin’ Mr. Dutch uncomfortable,’ Green grinned. “He’s a complainin’
feller, ain’t he?’

 
          
“He’ll
be quiet enough if I get a fair squint at him,’ was the grim reply. ‘Betcha they
fade.’

 
          
Fifteen
minutes passed, and nothing happened. Then Snap fired, out no shot came in
return. They waited awhile, lying motionless in their places, and then Snap
shot again.

 
          
“They’ve
flitted,’ he said, and stood up, his rifle ready, and his eyes watching for a
movement across the valley. But he saw nothing and, satisfied that the enemy
had retreated, he walked coolly down to the trail below and retrieved his hat,
in the crown of which were a couple of bullet-holes.

 
          
“Plenty
ventilation in that lid now,’ he remarked, as he donned the damaged article.
“But that’s all to the good for a hotheaded guy like me.’ He achieved the
nearest thing he could to a smile and turned to his companion. “I’m thankin’
yu,’ he said quietly.

 
          
“Shucks!
No need for that, Snap,’ returned Green. “What have
them
fellers got against yu?’

 
          
The
gunman shook his head. “I ain’t sayin’ a word but
this :
yu can count on me to the limit,’ he said, and held out his hand. Green
realised that he had made a useful friend.

 
          
“Thank
yu,’ he said simply.

 
          
They
mounted and rode back to the ranch in silence. From time to time Green looked
at the little man beside him. What a lot he could clear up if he would only
speak. But the puncher knew that he would not speak—even after the cowardly
attempt on his life—and respected him for his loyalty to his late confederates.
For, of course, Green surmised that Snap had been one of the gang operating
against the ranch, and that he had, for some reason, quarrelled with the others
and quitted.

 
          
Supper
was in progress when they reached the bunkhouse, and Green, entering behind his
companion, watched the foreman’s face, and saw first the slight start of
surprise, and then the contemptuous smile. Snap evidently also observed them.

 
          
“Things
is
shore livenin’ up in this neck o’ the woods,’ he
remarked casually to the room in general as he took his seat. “A pair o’ them
Double X fellers tried to bushwhack me in The Gut this afternoon.’

 
          
“Yu
don’t say! Who was they?’ asked Simple.

 
          
“Post
Adams an’ Dutch,’ replied Lunt.

 
          
“How’d
yu know? Did yu see ‘em?’ queried
Rattler.

 
          
“Heard
‘em,’ said Lunt laconically. “Ventilated Dutch some, I reckon. One of ‘em
spoilt my lid, damn him!’

 
          
“Good
for yu,’ commented Dirty. “What they pickin’ on yu for, Snap?’

 
          
The
gunman looked the foreman full in the face. “Orders, I reckon,’ he said coolly.
“
They ain’t neither of ‘em got guts enough to put up a play
like that on their own.’

 
          
“The
Double X is gettin’ too brash,’ growled
Dirty
. “A
lesson is about due.’

 
          
“None
o’ that talk here, Dirty,’ cut in the foreman. “We got enough on our hands
without a range war. Snap can fight his own battles.’

 
          
“Shore,
an’ he can have my help any time he wants it against ambushin’ coyotes,’
retorted the belligerent one.

 
          
The
meal over, Green drifted out to the corral, climbed the rail and sat there
smoking. There was no moon, but the sky was like a dome of velvet strewn with
diamonds. A light wind was blowing from the mountains, bringing a tang of the
pine forests.
From the bunkhouse came the murmur of voices,
soft and blurred, broken by an occasional laugh.
Behind him the horses
moved slowly as they cropped the grass. It all seemed peaceful, and yet, in the
midst of it, robbery and murder were being planned and carried out. He looked towards
the lighted windows of the ranch, and found himself wondering what Noreen was
doing. He did not see a shadow slide along the corral fence.

 
          
“Stick ‘em up,’ growled a voice, and as he instinctively complied
he looked into the barrel of a six-shooter, behind which was the laughing face
of Larry. “
Say, yo-re easy, ain’t yu?’ added that satisfied young man.

 
          
“Shore,’
replied Green, slipping his left heel from the corral bar over which it was
hooked. Like a striking snake, his toe shot out and kicked the loosely-held
weapon into the air. Then, with a flying leap, Green landed full on the other
and they went to the ground together, Larry underneath.

 
          
“Shore,’
Green repeated. “I’m easy—roused,’ and proceeded to enthusiastically push his
friend’s face into the soft dust. “Let up, yu—yu catamount,’ spluttered a
choking voice. “I’ve said “Uncle”—said it four times.
Yu
aimin’ to bust my back, as well as my fingers?’

 
          
Thus
adjured, Green allowed him to rise, and having brushed the dust from his own
person, performed the same kindly office for his friend with an energy which
elicited another protest.

 
          
“Aw
right, don’t yu trouble, feller,’ Larry said. “I ain’t
no
carpet.
What yu usin’—a fence-rail?’

 
          
“Only
my hand,’
came
the reply.

 
          
“Only
yore hand,’ snorted Larry. “Try the rail next time—I’d ruther.’ He found his
gun, rolled and lighted a cigarette, and took up a position on the corral
fence. “For a busted nickel I wouldn’t tell yu any news,’ he announced.

 
          
Green
climbed up beside him. “Spill it,’ he urged, “or Uncle will have to argue with
yu some more.’

 
          
Larry
moved a little further away. “I’ve solved the mystery o’ the rustlin’,’ he
began solemnly. “The leaves is doin’ it—every time the wind blows.’ He dodged a
back-handed blow which would have sent him into the corral, and added, “An’
yu’ve been ridin’ with the Pretty Lady. I’m agoin’ to call yu “Don” in
future—short for Don Juan, see?’

 
          
“Quit
yore foolin’;
it’s
blame near time yu grew up,’
retorted the other. “I don’t care a cuss what yu call me, but I’d like to hear
how yu knew about’—he hesitated—”the Pretty Lady.’

 
          
“Rattler
told me, an’ all the others. He’s shore doin’ his damnedest to make yu
popular.’

 
          
Green
was silent—thinking. He felt that he could fully trust this boy for whom he had
conceived a liking at their first meeting. They had become friends since then,
and under their bickering and banter was a sincere affection—though neither of
them would have called it that. He soon made his decision.

 
          
“I
got somethin’ to tell yu,’ he said.

 
          
“Speak
on, Big Chief Cat o’ the Mountains; I’m all ears,’ Larry responded.

 
          
“Damned
if yu ain’t too, pretty near,’ grinned Green. “Well, never yu mind; slant them
long listeners o’ yores this way, an’ don’t interrupt.’

 
          
In
a low voice he proceeded to relate the humiliation of Snub, which was as yet
news at the ranch!

 
          
Blaynes
had heard of it from the gambler, but for once had exercised discretion about
the stranger, and kept the knowledge to himself, and none of the Y Z outfit had
visited the town save Snap, who did not chatter. Larry punctuated the recital
with profane expressions of delight. When Green went on to recite the rescue of
Noreen, the boy fell silent. The story ended—and told, as it was, in the
baldest way, it did not take long—he said softly: “Yu shore have the luck. I’m
speakin’ for the job of foreman, early an’ prompt.’

 
          
“What
fool idea yu got in yore head now?’ asked his friend. “Well,’ replied Larry,
“Ain’t that the way it allus goes in the storybooks? The han’some hero dashes
out o’ the blazin’ ruins, bearin’ the slender form o’ the heroine, with the
tears streamin’ down her beautiful face, an—’

 
          
“The
tears’ll be streamin’ down yore by no means beautiful face an’ yu’ll be in good
shape to figure as a blazin’ ruin yoreself if yu don’t stop talkin’ drivel,’
interrupted Green. “What do yu make o’ Snap bein’ stood up thataway?’ He went
on to tell of his own share in the affair.

 
          
“Shore
is an odd number,’ Larry reflected. “Wonder what they split on? Pity he won’t
talk; but he’s square, Snap is; I allus sort o’ liked him.’

 
          
“There’s
somethin’ or somebody big behind it all,’ Green said musingly. “It ain’t just a
common steal of a few cattle. Trouble is
,
we ain’t got
an atom o’ proof. Well, it’s no good a-worryin’.’