Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 01 - The Range Robbers(1930) (48 page)

 
          
The
cowpuncher wasted no more time. Taking off his handkerchief he waved it out of
the window, and when no shots came, coolly climbed out and dropped to the
ground. Then, at full speed, he ran for the corral. Larry’s warning shout saved
him from the fire of the attackers, but those in the house did their best to
bring him down. But a running man who knows the tricks of unexpected swerves is
a difficult mark, and Green dived into the sheltering brush unhurt, to find
Larry awaiting him with a rope, saddle, and rifle.

 
          
“Good
for yu,’ gasped the late prisoner, as they raced for the corral.

 
          
The
horses, scared by the shooting, were bunched together at the far end of the
enclosure, but a whistle from Green brought the roan straight to where the two
men stood waiting. In a few moments the saddle was on and Green mounted. Larry
looked wistfully at the other horses.

 
          
“I’d
give a year’s pay to come with yu,’ he said.

 
          
“Yu
gotta stay an’ help to clean up the mess,’ his friend told him. “Say to Leeming
that Poker Pete an’ about half the rest of ‘em’s cashed in there.’

 
          
He
touched the roan with his heels and shot off in the direction Tarman had taken.
Larry stood watching him until the angry “spat’ of a bullet striking a post
beside him came as a reminder that he could be seen and reached from the
ranch-house. Dropping to his hands and knees, he crept back to join Ginger,
whose relief at his return was successfully concealed by a string of
opprobrious epithets.

 
          
AT
first Green pushed the roan along at a good pace to make up for the start the
quarry had obtained. He had this advantage, Tarman could not know he was
pursued, and therefore was not likely to hurry unduly, the more so as his horse
was carrying a double burden. The cowpuncher argued that the fugitive would
make for the Big Chief range, through one of the passes in which he would be
able to reach a town. Probably he would aim for Big Rock, where he had friends
and could obtain supplies. The trail, which Green soon picked up, seemed to
confirm this.

 
          
The
firing from the ranch-house grew fainter and presently died away as the roan
and its rider penetrated further into the wild country which guarded the lower
slopes of the mountains. Though apparently heading for a fixed point, Tarman
was breaking a fresh trail and making frequent detours to avoid obstacles. This
helped the pursuer, who mounted on a superior horse, could make better time on
the stretches of easy going.

 
          
For
mile after mile Green pressed on, sometimes at full speed where a bit of open
country permitted, at others at a walking pace, when the horse slipped and
slithered down the side of a gully, rock and sand following in a miniature
avalanche. Once, on the bank of a creek, the sign showed that Tarman had
dismounted to drink. The footmarks in the soft sand were still slowly filling
with moisture.

 
          
“He
ain’t so far ahead now, Blue,’ muttered the cowpuncher. “Oughtta see him soon.’

 
          
The
fury that had possessed him when he saw Tarman carrying off the girl had now
resolved itself into an icy determination of purpose. To an onlooker ‘his
actions would have seemed deliberate, even slow, but he was taking no chances.
Having satisfied his own thirst and that of his mount, he rode on. Drawing his
revolvers in turn, he spun the cylinders and made sure the weapons were ready
for instant use. Then he examined the rifle.

 
          
“It’s
his own—the son of a gun,’ he said. “Well, needn’t to worry ‘bout yu,’ he
added, as he slid the Winchester back under the saddle-fender, for Larry took
more care of his weapons than of himself.

 
          
They
were now nearing the mountains, and the scenery became still more savage and
forbidding. The trail zigzagged upwards through dense forests of pine which
almost shut out the daylight, along clefts strewn with boulders, and presently
emerged on an open ledge which climbed round the side of a big spur and
evidently formed one of the passes through the range. Less than half a mile
away a horse was wearily plodding up the long slope under its double load.

 
          
Having
got the girl so far, and with only one man to deal with, Green did not believe
that Tarman would carry out his threat, and as concealment was no longer
possible, he gave his horse the rein. As he had expected, the thudding hoofs of
the roan were heard at once. Taxman gave one glance back and then spurred his
mount, uselessly, as he soon realised. Another backward look told him that the
pursuer was apparently alone. A savage grin distorted his face as he slipped to
the ground and dragged his rifle from the scabbard.

 
          
Green
saw the action and recognised that his foe had all the advantages. Tarman, with
the girl behind him could not be fired at, while he himself was entirely
without cover, and at a range at which a good shot could hardly miss.
Nevertheless he rode steadily forward, watching and waiting; he had one chance
in a thousand, and he knew it. The girl, bound and helpless, sat huddled upon
the horse, watching too, with a cold terror clutching at her heart. When he was
little more than a hundred yards away the cowpuncher saw Tarman raise his rifle
and take steady aim. As the report rang out the roan reared, and its rider
pitched sideways from the saddle, flopping awkwardly to the ground and lying
motionless. Tarman stood for some moments, crouched slightly, his gun ready for
a second shot. He saw the horse quieten down, pace forward, and sniff
inquiringly at the prostrate form.

 
          
“Got
him, by God!’ he exulted.

 
          
A
cry of despair from the powerless spectator brought a grin of malicious triumph
to his lips. “Sudden exit of Mr. Sudden,’ he sneered. “Reckon yu will have to
put up with me for yore husband—or yore lover—after all. Some day yu will learn
that when Joe Tarman goes after a thing, he gets it. I’ve got yu, the hoss is
there, an’ if those damn fools don’t split about the cattle, I’ll get them
too.’

 
          
Sliding
the rifle back into the sheath, he took the lariat from the saddlehorn and led
the animal down the slope to where the cowpuncher was lying. He trailed the
reins, and drawing a gun stood looking down upon his fallen foe. He could see
but little of the face, which, turned downwards, was almost hidden in the curve
of the left arm, but the outflung right arm and the sprawling legs told their
tale. The rustler raised his weapon.

 
          
“Dead
as mutton,’ he said aloud, “but I reckon I’ll waste just one cartridge on yu
for luck, my friend.’

 
          
He
was on the point of pulling the trigger when Noreen’s horse began to pitch and
he turned to curse it, and her. “Put ‘em up, Tarman!’

 
          
The
harsh command brought the rustler round like a flash and then—his hands shot
heavenward. The cowpuncher was still lying prone but now there was a gun in his
right hand.

 
          
Slowly,
and with his eyes fixed on the big man, he got to his feet. Looking into that
stark, grim face Tarman could not repress a shiver of fear; the man who could
risk such a ruse and lie motionless with a gun trained on him, was to be
dreaded. Standing there, one hand holding aloft his pistol and the other the
lariat, he waited for the bullet he himself would not have hesitated to fire.
But again he had misjudged his man.

 
          
Put
yore gun back,’ came the order, and when he had complied Green holstered his
own. “Now Webb, or Tarman, whichever yore name is, I’m going to give yu what yu
never gave any man yet—an even break. Pull yore gun as soon as yu want to.’

 
          
He
waited, his own hands clear of his gun-bunts, but the big man seemed in no
hurry to accept the invitation. Instead, his lips curled in a wolfish snarl.

 
          
“Even
break, eh?’ he sneered. “Knowin’ damn well that yo’re quicker’n I am. Makin’ a
grand-stand for the girl’s sake, eh? Well, it
don’t
go
with me.’

 
          
“Then
I’ll take yu back an’ hang yu with the other thieves,’ retorted the puncher,
drawing his gun and stepping forward to disarm his prisoner.

 
          
“If
that damn hoss had kept still yu would be buzzard-meat by now,’ growled Tarman,
as he looked malevolently at Noreen. “If I thought—’

 
          
“Keep
yore thoughts to yoreself an’ turn yore back,’ ordered the other sharply.

 
          
Under
the menacing grin, Tarman complied, but instead of making the half-turn he
whirled completely round, at the same time slinging the heavy coiled lariat
full into the face of the advancing man. Completely taken by surprise and
blinded for the moment, Green pulled the trigger, but the shot went wide, and
the next instant the weapon was struck from his grasp and his enemy was upon
him. A savage blow sent him staggering back and when sight returned to his smarting
eyes, Tarman’s hands were reaching for his throat. He ducked and drove a fist
into the gloating, furious face, but he could not evade the arms which closed
round his body like a vice. Swaying, slipping, they reeled to and fro like
drunken men. The puncher knew that the other was trying to throw and throntle
him and he strove desperately to keep his feet and break the hold by pounding
away at Tarman’s ribs. That this hammering was beginning to tell he soon
learned, for the bigger man’s breath was coming in gasps.

 
          
Suddenly
Tarman changed his tactics. Releasing his opponent, he slung in a terrific blow
with his right which, had it landed, might well have proved fatal. But the
puncher got his head away just in time and as the massive fist whistled past
his ear, he sent in a return which drew a bellow of rage from the big man and
brought him rushing blindly forward. The next few moments were a medley of
whirling fists with no attempt at defence; both men were obsessed by the brute
instinct to hurt, and the fight became one of insensate fury. To the bound girl
who was the sole spectator it seemed impossible that such violence could
continue. The thud of bone meeting bone or flesh sent a shudder through her and
yet, barbarous as the scene was, she could non take her eyes away; they were
fighting for her, and the issue meant more than life.

 
          
Backwards
and forwards the bruised, blood-spattered figures heaved, neither appearing to
gain any supremacy. Tarman’s bulk gave him an advantage, but it was offset by the
puncher’s wiry toughness and superior condition. Every muscle in his body
pulsed with pain, yet the blows went home and if there was less power behind
them he had the satisfaction of knowing that the other man was in no better
case. Tarman’s gashed and gaping mouth, noisily sucking air into his labouring
lungs, told a plain story of distress, and Green, reading it, summoned his
remaining strength and again closed. A crashing blow to the jaw which he was
too weak to avoid sent the big man headlong, and as he fell, his hand
encountered a hard object in the grass. Green remained standing, waiting for
the fallen man to rise, glad indeed of a moment’s inaction. He failed to read
the devilish look of cunning which the prostrate ruffian darted at him.

 
          
“Another
grand-stand play,’ Tarman sneered. “Goin’ to let me get up, eh?’

 
          
“I
don’t hit a man when he’s down, even if he is a cur an’ a coward,’ retorted
Green.

 
          
“Different
here; I fight to win, an’ take my chances,’ the big man said, as he rose
painfully to his feet, his right hand slightly behind him. “Come on, yu

 
          
He
lurched as he spoke, as though from extreme weakness, and the puncher fell into
the trap. Refreshed by the respite, he sprang in to finish the fighn. Tarman
waited, a wicked light gleaming in his swollen eyes. Though he was still
wearing his gun he had been afraid to attempt to use it, for the outlaw’s
second weapon still hung at his hip, and the rustler knew better than to take
the chance! But now Fate had dealt him the winning card, for in falling, he had
dropped upon Green’s other Colt.

 
          
Taking
no risk, he waited until Green was upon him before his right hand flashed into
view and the gun roared. The impact of the heavy slug stopped the oncoming man
like a blow and sent him reeling, but even as he
fell
his left hand streaked to his side, there came a flash and report from his hip
and Tarman, with a choked cry, pitched forward on his face. Head to head the
two men lay, while the girl stared at them in horror. Above
,a
mere speck in the sky, an eagle wheeled in ever-narrowing circles.