Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (15 page)

 
          
.
“Passed through once, an’ that was aplenty,’ Drait replied. “It’s a bit south
o’ Taole Mesa.’

 
          
“That’s
so,’ Sudden agreed. “We found the house—if yu could call it that—owned by a
mighty craggy couple, the woman a virago an’ the man a shifty-eyed sneak. They
denied all knowledge o’ the girl at first, but when they found that wouldn’t
get ‘em anywhere but into trouble, they admitted she had been there, but had
disappeared, somethin’ short o’ two months ago. Her name was Mary Frances
Darrell. Mebbe yu can finish the tale.’

 
          
The
nester looked up. “It’s an amazin’ one, for shore, an’ there ain’t much I can
add to it,’ he began. “I found her wanderin’ in the woods the afternoon afore I
met you. She admitted she had run away, had no folks, an’ nowhere to go; I
fetched her here. O’ course, I never dreamed o’ connectin’ her with Pavitt; she
didn’t mention him, an’ they were searchin’ for a woman twice her age or a
young man.’

 
          
“She
may not have heard the name till she came to the valley,’ Sudden suggested. “I’d
like a word with her if it ain’t too late.’

 
          
“I’ll
find out,’ Nick replied.

 
          
He
returned in a few moments. “She’s comin’ along,’ he said. “Mebbe it’ll be
easier for her if I ain’t here. Back soon.’

 
          
Before
the other had time to protest, he had gone, and almost immediately, the girl
came in, seated herself in the chair Nick had vacated, and looked enquiringly
at the puncher.

 
          
“You
have something to tell me?’

 
          
“Somethin’
to ask yu first,’ he smiled. “An’ it ain’t just curiosiny. Yu were born at?’

 
          
“A
town called Deepridge, but as I left there when I was eight—having lost both my
parents—I remember little of it.’ Further questions brought confirmation of
his own
discoveries concerning her movements. There was one
more test. “What did yore parents call yu?’

 
          
“Frankie.
You see, I was a disappointment; both of them had wanted a boy.’

 
          
Sudden,
conscious that he was reviving sad memories, grinned and said consolingly, “Shucks!
boys
ain’t so much.’ This brought a smile, wistful,
maybe, but still, a smile. “Can you tell me yore mother’s maiden name?’ Sudden
went on.

 
          
She
shook her head. “I cannot recall ever having heard it.’ “Well, I guess yu’ve
told me all I need to know,’ he said. “I’m obliged to yu, ma’am.’

 
          
“May
I put a question?’ she asked, and when he agreed that it was certainly her
turn, added, “
Why
do you want this information?’

 
          
He
told the history of Mary Pavitt, her flight from home, and the old man’s
bequest. “I’ve been lookin’ for her child, who is the rightful owner of the S P
ranch; I reckon I’ve found her,’ he ended.

 
          
“It
seems—incredible,’ she breathed.

 
          
“The
incredible part is that yu weren’t unearthed a while ago,’ Sudden said drily. “That
lawyer fella must be dumb, or….’ He left her to supply the alternative. “One
thing more: I wouldn’t speak of it, even to Lindy; there might be
a snag
somewheres.’

 
          
“Does
Mister Drait know?’ she asked.

 
          
“Naturally,
I told him. He won’t talk.’

 
          
She
rose and began to stammer thanks, but he waved them aside. “Nothin’ no that,’
he said hastily. “I’m on’y doin’ what I came to do.’

 
          
In
the semi-darkness of her room, Mary strove to school her excited brain into a
calm consideration of this seeming inevitable change in her life. What would it
mean?
Wealth, independence, freedom?
Not the latter,
for she would still be tied to the harsh, inscrutable man she had married. She
wondered whether Drait would be glad, or sorry? He would never let her know,
but she shut her teeth on the determination that it should be which she chose.
She would be leaving Shadow Valley, and to her surprise, this thought produced
a pang of regret.

 
          
While
the girl was wrestling with her problem, her husband returned to the parlour,
dropped into a chair, and looked enquiringly at his companion.

 
          
“It’s
as certain as the Day o’ Judgment,’ the puncher told him, adding meditatively, “
It
busts up Cullin’s game—yu won’t need to consider that
offer now.’

 
          
“I
never intended to,’ Drait said.

 
          
“If
she decides to keep the ranch, she’ll want a good man to run it; Gilman would
steal the floor from under her feet.’ “Yeah, it’ll be a jolt for him, too.
Bardoe won’t like it, an’ the sheriff’ll be peeved. Take it all round,
Jim,
you ain’t goin’ to be the best-liked man hereabouts.’

 
          
“That’s
happened before,’ Sudden replied, a twinkle in his eyes. “I never let it lose
me any sleep. If some o’ the folks I’ve met up with in this world o’ sin had
liked me, I’d ‘a’ hated myself.’

 
          
“I
got fifty more critters from the S P while you were away. Yeah, I took the
numbers o’ the bills. What you meanin’ to do about Seale?’

 
          
“Invite
him to come over, mentionin’ why. I’ll bet he will too, a-runnin’, an’ I’ll
double the bet that from here he’ll head straight for the Big C, in the hope o’
still bein’ able to corral that thousand bucks.’

 
          
“Well,
I’m mightly glad you’ve turned the trick, Jim, both for the gal’s sake an’ yore
own. With the job practically finished, I s’pose you’ll be hittin’ the trail
soon?’ Drait said moodily.

 
          
Sudden
shook his head. “There’s a lot to be done yet.’

 
          
“Good,’
was the hearty reply, but as he returned to the bunkhouse the puncher had a
feeling that his latest exploit had not quite pleased the
nester,
and he wondered why.

 
          
THE
letter announcing the bare fact that an heir to the S P had been brought to
light produced a galvanic effect upon the Weasel. Though he tried to persuade himself
that it must be a spurious claim which could be easily disproved, he lost no
time in looking into the matter. The weekly coach carried him to Midway, and
there he hired a buckboard to complete the journey, consoling himself with the
reflection that the estate would pay his expenses.

 
          
He
was conversant with the sinister history of Shadow Valley, and knew it was at
present in the possession of an undesirable named Drait. But the letter he had
received was signed “James Green’ and this told him nothing. So, when ushered
by Lindy into the parlour, it was quite a surprise to find a familiar face—that
of the cowboy from the Border, who had visited him in Rideout.

 
          
“So
it’s you?’ he said.

 
          
“Li’l
of me,’ the other smiled. “Couldn’t go back to pore Eli empty-handed, yu know.
Help yoreself to a seat.’ He turned to the young girl, who, sitting rather in
the shadow was the only other occupant of the room. “This is Luke Seale, ma’am;
he’s been tryin’ to find yu for a goodish bit.’

 
          
“My
search was for a much older woman or a youth called ‘Frank’,’ the lawyer said
sharply. “If this is a joke….’ “Do I look that sort o’ fool?’ Sudden demanded. “Now,
pay close attention to what I’m goin’ to tell yu. My enquiries started at
Deepridge, where your’n left off.’ The Weasel blinked at this, and then
listened in glum silence while Sudden, step by step, related the tale of his
investigation.

 
          
“Sounds
all right,’ he said sourly, when the puncher ended, “but it’s no more than
hearsay, so to speak; the Law demands documentary evidence.’ At the back of his
mind, however, a four-figure sum of money was receding into the distance.

 
          
“We
aim to please,’ Sudden smiled, and dived into a pocket. “I got on the trail o’
the preacher who married Mary Pavitt an’ Francis Darrell—fella named ‘Josiah
Jones’.”

       
Neither of the men noticed the girl’s
start of surprise. “He ain’t at Deepridge no more, but I can tell yu where to
locate him. He dug up an old register an’ here’s a copy o’ the entry in it.’

 
          
Seale
studied the slip of paper. “It could be forged,’ he said, and looked into eyes
of chilled steel. “I’m not saying it is “The same fella baptised the child, an’
there’s people in Deepridge who remember she was called “Frankie” by her
parents,’ the puncher went on. “Here is another document, which is genuine—I
wrote it my own self.’ His grin was not of the pleasant variety. “It’s the
address o’ the orphanage, where they’ll show yu the record of Miss Darrell’s
stay there, an’ give yu a pretty near description of her. Well, what
d’yu think
?’

 
          
All
that the lawyer could think at the moment was that
a
substantial commission, together with the opportunity of vastly increasing it,
were
disappearing like a dream. He flogged his brain to discover some
flaw in the evidence which would restore a glimmer of hope.

 
          
“Your
facts about Miss Darrell may be correct, but you have not proved, as yet, that
your claimant is that person,’ Seale said.

 
          
The
girl spoke for the first time: “
Did
you ever see Mary
Pavitt before she left home, Mister Seale?’

 
          
“Many
times,’ he replied absently.

 
          
She
rose and moved forward into a better light. “Would you say that I resemble
her?’

 
          
He
raised his head, and his mean little eyes opened to their fullest extent.
“God!
You’re her living image,’ he cried, shocked into speaking
the truth.

 
          
“I
have been told so,’ she said quietly. “Are you satisfied?’

 
          
He
was, but would not admit it; even now, there might be some way out. “You
certainly have a case,’ he said. “It will take time to examine it thoroughly.’

 
          
“Don’t
worry if yu lose that certificate,’ Sudden said sardonically. “The original an’
the man who wrote it can be produced. Yu will inform the Governor, o’ course?’

 
          
“No
need—at present,’ Seale said hurriedly. “The matter is in my hands. As soon as
I have come to a decision, I will take the necessary steps to put Miss Darrell
in possession of the property.’

 
          
With
which pompous statement he took his leave. The puncher accompanied him to the
door. “Speed is what we want, ol’-timer,’ he said in a low voice. “The lady has
been without her inheritance long enough. Remember, yu can pay too high a price
even for a thousand bucks.’

 
          
His
face a pasty yellow, the man scuttled out of the house, scrambled into his
conveyance, and grabbed the whip. Sudden’s amused gaze followed him.

 
          
“Hell!
I oughta
mentioned
the nearest way to the Big C,’ he
soliloquised.

 
          
Sudden’s
prediction as to the lawyer’s destination was correct, and he proceeded there
as quickly as the raw-boned beast he was driving could take him. Only when the
buckboard was within sight of the Big C ranch-house did he slacken pace; he was
not looking forward to the interview; the rancher’s tongue was two-edged, and
he never troubled to conceal his contempt for those he used.

 
          
“Well,
what foul wind has blown you here?’ was his greeting.

 
          
“I’ve
news—bad news, Greg,’ the lawyer replied.