Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) (19 page)

 
          
“Seventy-five
seconds,’ Green said quietly, as he slipped his watch back into his pocket and
sprang forward to grip the reins of the horse, which was now standing still,
with heaving flanks and trembling limbs.

 
          
Seth
ran to assist his friend, only to be thrust aside with a curse as Tarman
scrambled to his feet. The man was transformed; in the place of the jovial good
fellowship, his face, dust and blood-smeared, was now that of a fiend. Cursing,
he stood there, swaying on his legs and clawing for the gun which had swung
round behind him. His purpose was plain; he intended to shoot the horse.

 
          
“Don’t
yu,’ drawled a quiet voice, and he looked into the muzzle of the cowboy’s gun.

 
          
With
a tremendous effort he got control of himself again, but anger still flamed within
him. ‘I’ll give you five hundred dollars for that brute, if it’s only to break
ins
damned neck,’ he cried.

 
          
“Yu
couldn’t buy him with all yu got,’ was the contemptuous answer. “Yu had yore
chance.’

 
          
Without
another glance at the discomfited man he swung himself carelessly into the
saddle, cuffed the horse playfully when it halfheartedly tried to throw him out
again, and rode down the street.

 
          
Tarman
looked for the girl but she had gone, though he knew she had witnessed his
defeat, a fact which contributed not a little to his unfortunate display of
temper. This was now over, and as he brushed the dust from his clothes, he
said, with a rueful grin: “Well, folks, it ain’t often that Joe Tarman loses
his wool but I’ve shore got to own up to it to-day. That hoss certainly got me
goin’. First time I ever was piled an’ I’ve rid some bad ones too, but that
roan’s a holy terror. Say, I reckon I’ve swallowed pretty near an acre o’ dust;
what about irrigatin’, an’ mebbe a little game o’ some sort?’

 
          
The
proposal was received with acclamation of a thirsty crowd, and Poker Pete
happening along very
opportunely,
was presented to Mr.
Tarman and the little game was soon in progress. The big man lost about a
hundred dollars at poker, most of it to the gambler, and with great good
humour, insisted on celebrating his second defeat of the day by setting up
drinks for all, an act which proclaimed him a thorough sport and soundly
established his popularity. But there were those who remembered his expression
when he rose from the dusty street, and were of opinion that despite his
geniality the newcomer was not one to take liberties with.

 
          
Noreen
rode home with much to think of. At the commencement of the scene between the
visitor and the cowpuncher she had ridden a little distance away, but could not
resist the temptation to turn and watch. She saw Green choose the western trail
out of town, and guessed that it was deliberately done to save her from further
embarrassment; while she appreciated the motive, she was conscious of a vague
sense of disappointment.

 
          
Respecting
Tarman she could come to no decision; he had both repelled and attracted her.
Even with her small experience of the world, she recognised in him a type
capable of exercising a powerful appeal to women. While he was essentially a
man’s man, he did not neglect the softer influences. He dressed well, and yet
no one could have called him a dandy. A good tweed suit, the trousers folded
neatly into the tops of his well-fitting riding-boots, a silk shirt, with a
soft collar and flowing tie, and an expensive Stetson, were in marked contrast
to the nondescript attire affected by most of the inhabitants of Hatchett’s
Folly.

 
          
As
to the real man himself, Noreen could only speculate, but she remembered his
face as he staggered to his feet from the dust when the horse had thrown him,
and shivered. No doubt the humiliation had been a cruel one, but…. She found
herself wondering how the puncher would have taken a similar defeat and had to
confess that she did not know; men were so different when they were angry. But
somehow she felt that Green would not have wanted to kill the horse—he would
have respected it for its victory. He and Tarman were different types, she
decided, and pursued the thought no further.

 
          
As
the girl had surmised, Green had consciously chosen the western way out of the
town in order to avoid her. To be seen speaking to her in Hatchett’s mattered
little, for she might have been delivering a message from her father for all
the passers-by knew, but to ride away in her company was a different matter
after the views Old Simon had already expressed, and Green had reasons for not
wishing to exasperate the ranch-owner. As soon as he was clear of the buildings
he swung round and headed easn, his mind busy with what had just taken place.
He playfully pulled one of the roan’s ears, a pleasantry to which the animal
responded by trying to pitch him into a prickly thorn bush.

 
          
“Yu
old pirut,’ chided his master indulgently, when he had subdued the outburst.
“Don’t yu know who’s atop of yu? The feller who christened yu shore knew his
business. Shucks! But yu hadn’t oughtta turned the nice gent into a dust-plough
an’ mussed up his whiskers thataway.’ He laughed happily as he recalled the
scene. “But, hush, he was some fierce when he got up. Yu come mighty near to
passin’ out that minute, Blue, if he could ‘a’ found his gun. An’ yu come close
another time, when the Pretty Lady stroked yu, yu lucky devil; one snap at her
an’ I’d have busted yu wide open, yu hear me, though I never seen a hoss I
liked so much.’ He pulled the ear again and this time there was no answering
demonstration. “Good for yu,’ he said. “We gotta stick togenher, for
we ain’t neither of us very popular around here,
an’ we
gotta watch that chap Tarman an’ the little runt that trails wint him.’

 
          
The
rasp was back in his voice again as he spoke the last sentence. He knew nothing
about the two visitors, had never seen either of them before, and yet at the
moment his gaze clashed with that of the big man, he was conscious of a feeling
of antagonism. Green had experienced the same sort of thing before and he had
never been wrong; men he had trusted at sight had proved worthy, and others he
had distrusted had, sooner or later, justified his doubt. He had come to
believe in these intuitions. His face softened again as he remembered Noreen’s
smile of greeting, and that she had not “passed him up’ despite her father’s
wish. “
She
shore has got sand to burn,’ he told
himself.

 
          
Whatever
else he might be, Mr. Joseph Tarman was a man of action, and when he told
Noreen that he intended to visit her father “right soon’ he meant just that. So
the same afternoon found him, with his diminutive companion, Seth Laban, riding
the trail to the Y Z ranch. He had entirely recovered his poise.

 
          
“Mighty
good move we made, comin’ to this Gawd-forgotten hole, Seth,’ he remarked
genially, when they were clear of the town.

 
          
“I
reckon,’ came the stereotyped reply. “What d’ye make o’ that marshal, Tonk?’

 
          
‘Oughtta
be named Tank,’ said Tarman, with a laugh. “Guess Pete owns him anyway.’

 
          
Seth
nodded—he never wasted breath—and his friend continued “Plenty opportunity
here, with no interference, an’ good cattle country.’

 
          
“I
reckon,’ Seth agreed. “An’ when the railway comes… “Shut yore damned face,’
snapped the big man savagely.

 
          
“But
there can’t nobody hear,’ expostulated the other.

 
          
“How
in hell do yu know?’ retorted Tarman. “What yu gotta remember all the time is
that the railway
ain’t never
comin’ near here, an’
then yu won’t make no slips.’

 
          
They
rode in silence for a while, Seth smarting under the reproof, and Tarman deep
in thought, of a pleasant nature evidently, for he was smiling again. Presently
he spoke: “That girl shore has got me goin’. I feel tempted to chuck my hand
in, marry her an’ settle down. She’s the only child an’ she’ll have the Y Z
when the old man cashes.’

 
          
The
smaller man looked at him in quick alarm. “Yu don’t mean that, Joe?’ he
queried. “Just when we’ve got everythin’ fixed good. Why, yu’ll be King o’ the
Ranges if things go right.’

 
          
Tarman
laughed again. “Bet I scared yu, Seth. No, I ain’t a quitter. King o’ the
Ranges, eh? Well, that shore sounds fine, an’ she’ll make a dandy Queen, I
guess.’

 
          
“Better
steer clear o’ the skirts, Joe,’ warned Laban. “Yu know what Lola told yu—that
yu’d split on a woman someday.’

 
          
“Bah!’
sneered
Tarman. “A woman, an’ a greaser at that, is
liable to say anythin’ when yu tell her yo’re tired of her. I want the girl an’
the roan hoss an’ I’m agoin’ to have ‘em both.’

 
          
“The
owner o’ the hoss don’t
seem inclined to part with
it,’ said the little man, and there was something in his tone which brought the
grin back to Tarman’s face.

 
          
“There
have been other people who had things I fancied an’ didn’t want to part with
‘em,’ he said. “They yielded to persuasion, didn’t they?’

 
          
“I
reckon,’ replied Seth, and smiled his smile. “All the same, he looks a tough
customer.’

 
          
“He’s
shore that,’ admitted Tarman. “Somehow I gotta feeling I’ve seen him before,
but I’m damned if I can figure where it was.’

 
          
They
rode in silence again, the big man deep in thought, and the smaller one
watching him with cunning eyes and gloating inwardly. He could sway him—he knew
the note to strike. Many men were afraid of Joe Tarman, but he, Seth Laban,
though he was treated like a tame dog more than anything else, was not afraid.
The big man might become King of the Ranges, but he, Seth assured himself,
would be the power behind the throne.

 
          
Old
Simon was sitting on the verandah when they arrived at the Y Z. He welcomed
them heartily but not effusively, calling a boy to take their horses, and
inviting them to make themselves at home. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he
remarked: “Heard about yu from my daughter.’

 
          
“Then
I’m afraid yu didn’t get a very flattering account,’ laughed the big man. “She
saw me at an unfortunate moment.’

       
“Yu ain’n the first by a good many, if
it’s any comfort to yu,’ smiled Simon.

 
          
“Only
hoss that ever beat me,’ rejoined Tarman. “Fine beast too; yu oughtta got a
good price for him.’

 
          
“I
gave him away,’ the cattleman explained. “He was too expensive; it looked like
I’d have to set up a regular hospital if the boys kept on tryin’ to ride him,
an’ then my girl gets the fool notion she can do it—’

 
          
“Telling
the story of the disobedient daughter, Daddy?’ asked a bright voice behind him.

 
          
Tarman
was instantly on his feet, his hand outstretched, and his dark eyes alight with
admiration.

 
          
“Yu
see I’ve wasted no time, Miss Noreen,’ he said. “Yore father has been tellin’
me that we are fellow-sufferers so far as the roan is concerned.’

 
          
“I
was very fortunate,’ Noreen replied, as he shook hands. “I hope you are not
feeling any ill effects.’

 
          
“No
damage,’ smiled the other. “Hurt my pride, o’ course; no man likes to be piled,
especially with a pretty girl looking on.’ Then turning to his host, he added,
“
That
man o’ yores seems to be able to handle him.’

 
          
“Reckon
he’s got the gift,’ said the ranch-owner. “I’ve met up with Injuns who could do
anythin’ with horses.’

 
          
“Injun
blood in him, shouldn’t wonder,’ said Tarman casually. He was watching Noreen
closely as he spoke, having, in fact, purposely cast what he knew to be an
aspersion on the cowboy to see if she would resent it. There was, however,
nothing but indifference in her tone when she replied: “I don’t think so, but I
believe he was brought up among Indians and horses.’