Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) (46 page)

 
          
“Good
enough,’ Tarman resumed. “His share goes into the main fund—I don’t want
none
of it.’

 
          
Two
of the men carried the corpse into another room, and on their return Tarman
said, “Now we gotta settle what to do with our friend here,’ and he waved a
hand towards the prisoner. “
Hands up for stretchin’ him right
away.’

 
          
Every
man in the room, save one, elevated a paw, several jocularly put up both.
Tarman looked round with a grin.

 
          
‘Hell!
yu
don’t seem to he none popular in this community,
Sudden,’ he commented. “There’s on’y one as ain’t anxious to see you dance on
nothin’. What’s yore objection,
West
?’

 
          
“Well,
boss,’ replied California, who alone had kept his hands down, “here’s how I
look at it. This feller’s worth ten thousand wheels alive, an’ nothin’ dead,
an’ it ‘pears to me a waste o’ good money to swing him when there’s folks
who’ll pay that amount an’ do it for us.’

 
          
“Yes,
an’ give him a chance to tell his little tale,’ interposed Dexter. “Where’d we
be then?’

 
          
“Where
we are now,’ retorted
West
. “Yore head’s about as
useful as it is ornamental. Who’s goin’ to take the word of an outlaw agin the
fellers who gave him up? Why, yu couldn’t find a better way o’ stoppin’ any gab
there may be. I can see a public vote o’ thanks bein’ passed to our prominent
citizen an’ landowner, Mr. Tarman, for accomplishin’ what half-a-dozen sheriffs
have fallen down on.’

 
          
“By
God, he’s right, boys,’ Tarman cried, his imagination caught by the prospect.
“That’s a tally for yu,
West
, an’ when we come to
cuttin’ up the beef I’m not forgettin’ it.’ He turned and grinned at the
captive. “Yu have a few more weeks to live, Mr. Sudden.’

 
          
Green
did not answer; the last words of Tarman’s latest victim were still ringing in
his ears. He knew now that this was the man for whom he had searched so long.
He was bigger, for he had filled out, and with the addition of a beard, and his
dyed hair, it was not to be wondered at that Green had failed to recognise him
under his assumed name, for he had seen him but a few times at Evesham’s ranch.
“The Spider’ might have suggested something but curious nicknames were the rule
rather than the exception in the West. Tarman stepped in front of him.

 
          
“I
take the pot, my friend,’ he jeered. “Thought yu could play a hand against me,
did yu? As for the girl…’

 
          
“Keep
yore foul tongue off her,’ blazed the bound man. “If yu had the courage of a
coyote, yu’d turn me loose an’ fight it out, but yu haven’t; swindlin’ old men
an’ bullyin’ unprotected girls is yore limit.’

 
          
The
big man’s face grew purple with rage and he ground his teeth. “For a busted
nickel I’d ante up ten thousand no the boys for the pleasure o’ blowin’ yu
apart,’ he snarled.

 
          
“If
I had a busted nickel I’d shore give it yu,’ Green retorned, adding
contempnuously, ‘Yu’d only rob me of it if I didn’t.’

 
          
But
Tarman had got himself in hand again. “Yu don’t get off that easy,’ he said. “
Live, damn yu, with a rope in sight, an’ to comfort yu, the
knowledge that the girl is in my power an’ I don’t intend to marry her, savvy?’

 
          
The
prisoner remained unmoved. “Tarman or Webb or whatever yore name may be, I
figure yo’re the poorest pretence of a man I ever struck—an’ I struck yu once
good an’ plenty, didn’t I?’ he jeered.

 
          
Tarman’s
face went livid and his fists clenched. “Here, West, yu an’ Durran lock this
feller up an’ keep an eye on him,’ he gritted, “or I’ll be savin’ the hangman a
job yet.’

 
          
Assisted
by West and followed by Durran, the outlaw shuffled up the stairs. On the way,
West managed to whisper: “It was a close call, partner; I couldn’t think o’
no
other way. I ain’t forgettin’ that rattler.’ Then he
thrust him violently through a door, slammed and locked it upon him.

 
          
EARLY
the following morning, Stiffy, returning from Hatchett’s, heard a drumming of
hoofs behind him and being of a suspicious nature, forced his mount into the
brush at the side of the trail and waited. The drumming grew louder and then a
band of riders galloped past. In the half-light he recognised several of them.
He saw too that the horses had been hard-ridden, and that the faces of the
riders were set and determined.

 
          
“Looks
like the Frying Pan outfit, fifteen of ‘
em,
an’ they
ain’t on no joy-ride neither,’ he muttered. “
Headed for the
Crossed Dumb-bell shore enough.
I gotta take the short trail an’ warn
Jeffs.’

 
          
Mounting
again he rode for about half a mile and then turned off to the left at a point
where there was a faint, narrow trail, little more than a run-way for wild
creatures. A glance showed him that the horsemen ahead had kept straight on,
and with a sigh of relief he plunged into the narrow pathway, stooping to avoid
the branches which threatened to sweep him from the saddle.

 
          
The
next half hour proved cruel work, and but for the fad that both knew their
business, either man or beast must have come to grief. Through thickets and
gullies, over rock-rimmed ridges, along a trail which wound like a ribbon
amidst seemingly impassable undergrowth, slipping, staggering, the nimble
little pony keeping its feet by a miracle of agility, they pressed on until at
length they emerged on an open stretch and with a last burst of speed, reached
their objective. All was quiet, but the man knew he could not be far ahead of
the visitors and wasted no time. Limping, for the wild ride had tried his
wounded leg severely, he ran to the door and hammered on it with his quirt. It
was Jeffs who opened it.

 
          
“Lo,
Stiffy, what’s eatin’ yu?’ he asked. “
Thirsty?’

 
          
“The
Frying Pan outfit’s on its way here an’ liable to arrive any minit,’ panted the
other. “I
come
the short trail but—well, yu know what
that is. There’s fifteen of ‘em, an’ I reckon they’re painted for war.’

 
          
“Hell,’
cried the foreman, the grin fading from his face instantly. “Come an’ tell the
Spider.’

 
          
They
went into the big room where Tarman, Pete, and most of the others were getting
breakfast. The leader took the news calmly, and was clever enough to let it
appear that he welcomed the change in his plans.

 
          
“Fine,’
he said. “We clean up now instead o’ later on, an’ if they come askin’ for it,
we can’t be blamed.
Fifteen of ‘em, eh?
Well,
there’s
twenty of us an’ we’re under cover. Rustle in plenty
grub, water, an’ cartridges—we’ll hold this place. The Frying Pan outfit, boys,
is the last ditch we gotta straddle; after that, it’s easy goin’ for all of
us.’

 
          
Laughing
and joking, the men set about the task of putting the ranch-house in a state of
defence. Built of stout logs which would resist any bullet, it was admirable
for the purpose. The vulnerable spots were the doors and windows, the latter,
however, being protected by heavy shutters loop-holed to enable the attacked to
retaliate. On all sides the ground had been cleared so as to render the
storming of the building a perilous undertaking. So the garrison might well
await the issue with confidence. But Tarman, though he showed a bold front to
his men, was perplexed. That the ranch he was purposing to raid should suddenly
turn the tables was something he could not understand. Poker Pete too was ill
at ease.

 
          
“Beats
me how Leeming got wise to this place,’ he said.

 
          
“I
figure Green warn’t alone last night,’ Tarman replied. “He musta left the other
feller waitin’ in the brush with orders to ride for help if he didn’t come back
with the girl in a certain time. We oughtta thought o’ that.
We
gotna wipe ‘em out, Pete, every damn one of ‘em.’

 
          
The
gambler nodded gloomily, not that the prospect of slaying a dozen or so of his
fellow-creatures disturbed him, but because he realised that the task was not
going to be an easy one. A hail from outside interrupted the conversation, and
peering through the loop-hole, they saw a solitary horseman sitting easily in
the open, his rifle across his knees. It was the Frying Pan owner himself. At a
word from Tarman, the foreman flung open the front door and leaning carelessly
against the jamb, asked: “
An
’ what might yu be
wantin’?’

 
          
“First
off, none o’ yore damn lip,’ retorted the irascible rancher. “I’m tellin’ yu we
got the place surrounded, an’ I’m givin’ yu one chance; hand over the girl an’
Green unharmed an’ we’ll go away—this time.’

 
          
“Yu
can go plumb to hell, an’ if yo’re in sight in five seconds yu’ll git a free
pass there,’ snapped Jeffs jerking up his rifle as he spoke.

 
          
The
envoy whirled his mount and disappeared in the chaparral, while the foreman
slammed and bolted the door; negotiations were at an end.

 
          
The
attacking party, having placed their mounts in safety, had split up into
couples and selected points which commanded every side of the building. The
four Y Z boys had worked round to the back, from whence they could keep an eye
on the corral. As Larry put it, “
Some
o’ these birds
may be wantin’ no fly the coop, an’ it’s shore up to us to provide the wings.’

 
          
Ginger,
with whom he had paired, grunted as he settled himself at full length in a
slight hollow, well screened by the intervening foliage.

 
          
“Don’t
yu gamble too high on this brush bein’ bullet-proof,’ he warned. “Cuss
it,
they got all the best of it. Don’t see how we’re goin’
to get ‘em ‘less we starve ‘em out, an’ they’re better fixed for grub than we
are, I betcha.’

 
          
“We’ll
get ‘em all right,’ responded Larry cheerfully. “Old Impatience’ll find a
way—can’t see him a-settin’ down to wait. Bet that’s him, opening the ball.’

 
          
A
shot rang out and they heard the thud of the striking bullet. Three of the
defenders promptly replied, one of them firing from a loop-hole in the back
door which immediately became a target for four of the attackers.

 
          
“Reckon
we’ve sorter discouraged that jasper some,’ remarked Ginger, the hail of
bullets having evoked no response. “Wonder if he’s cashed or shifted?’

 
          
He
raised himself slightly to get a better view and instantly his hat was snatched
from his head, and a second bullet screamed through the twigs past his cheek,
both coming from the loop-hole of a window near the door. Larry sent two rapid
shots at the unseen marksman and promptly rolled sideways to a position several
yards away.

 
          
“Yu
darn fool,’ he said. “Why don’t yu stand up an’ tell him where we are?’

 
          
Ginger
did not reply, but having found a ridge of ground which afforded a little
protection, he began methodically to hurl lead in a way which aroused the
curiosity of his chum.

 
          
“What
yu firin’ at?’ Larry inquired.

 
          
“The
sky, yu blamed jackass,’ came the polite retort, and then, “I’m cuttin’ them
hinges; take the left-hand one if yu think yu can hit it.’

 
          
Larry
peeped out and saw that the shutter to the window was held in place by two
rawhide hinges fixed at the top, and that the one on the right already bore
testimony to the accuracy of Ginger’s marksmanship. With a whoop of delight
Larry got to work on the other, and had already cut it through when a voice
behind
said :