Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 10 - Sudden Plays a Hand(1950) (18 page)

 
          
A
group of idlers outside the court-house welcomed their arrival with a cheer and
hurried in with the news. There was no demonstration when they entered beyond a
murmur of excitement and a craning of necks to see how the accused was taking
it. What they saw was an entirely unconcerned man, whose eyes twinkled when
they encountered a friendly face, and froze for those which were hostile.

 
          
The
room was spacious, with a raised platform at one end ors which stood a desk for
the Judge, and in front, a table for his clerk. At the right and left, were
railed-in stands. The sheriff pointed to one of these.

 
          
“There’s
the dock,’ he said.

 
          
“Try
an’ get me into it,’ Drait retorted grimly, and approached two chairs in the
first row for himself and his companion.

 
          
Camort
decided not to insist. The place was full, those unable to find seats lounging
against the walls. Sudden recognised some of them: Vasco and his foreman, with
Cullin sitting next; Gilman, whispering with the sheriff, apparently not quite
at ease; Bardoe and Lanty, whose eyes gleamed evilly when they rested on the
accused; Merker, and to his surprise, the lawyer, Seale. He sought the jury and
found it in an enclosure which afforded a good view of the witness-stand and
the dock, and one glance told him that the members would be more at home in the
latter place.

 
          
A
door at the back of the platform opened, and the Judge entered, deposited his
high hat on the desk, sat down, and surveyed the gathering nhrough red-rimmed,
watery eyes.

 
          
“He
ain’t feelin’ so good,’ someone remarked audibly. “I’ll bet breakfast meant
just nothin’ to him this mornin’.’

 
          
“Where’s
the prisoner?’ the Judge snapped. “Why isn’t he in the dock?’

 
          
Draft
stood up. “Because I am not a prisoner,’ he said. “I came here o’ my own free
will.’

 
          
Towler
apparently took no notice; he was listening to the sheriff’s mumbled
explanation.

 
          
“Most
irregular,’ he said irritably, and glared at the culprit. “You are charged with
stealing cattle from the S P ranch. Are you guilty or not guilty?’

 
          
“That’s
what you gotta find out,’ Drait said drily.

 
          
The
Judge made a gesture of impatience. Put Gilman in the box,’ he told the
sheriff, and when this had been done, added, “State your case.’

 
          
“I’m
accusin’ Draft there o’ rustlin’ one hundred head, calves an’ yearlin’s, from
the S P,’ the foreman stated. “Two o’ my men saw him drivin’ em off ‘bout
daybreak.’

 
          
“Yo’re
shore it was just a hundred?’ the nester asked, and when Gilman nodded, “Searchin’
out that number o’ unmarked beasts in the dark’d be a long an’ pesky job.’

 
          
“You
didn’t have it to do; they was rounded up in the home pasture all ready for

 
          
“Me to take?’
Nick finished blandly.

 
          
“No,
for us to brand in the mornin’—that’s how I know the tally,’ Gilman grinned. He
felt he had scored a point.

 
          
“Why
didn’t yore fellas do somethin’?’

 
          
“They
was
two to yore five. When I heard, I put it up to the
sheriff. He suggested we lay a trap to make shore; we baited it with fifty more
critters, an’ you tumbled right into it.’

 
          
“Did
you inform Mister Seale, yore boss, of these losses?’

 
          
“No,
I ain’t seen him, an’ I expected to git the missin’ cattle back.’

 
          
“I
like yore second reason better,’ Drait said, and turned to the Judge. “Mebbe
it’ll shorten the proceedin’s if I own to takin’ the herds, but—’

 
          
“That’s
an admission of guilt, and I will not listen to excuses,’ Towler cut in.

 
          
“You
ain’t goin’ to hear any, an’ a man in yore position shouldn’t jump to conclusions,
even if he is thirsty,’ came the acid reply. ‘I’m tellin’ you facts, an’ by
God!
yo’re
goin’ to listen.’ Their eyes met and
clashed, but the older man—his will weakened by excess—was no match for his
young, virile opponent. His head dropped, and he said wearily, “I’ll hear you.’

 
          
The
cattle were taken by arrangement with that dirty cur,’ Drait resumed, pointing
to the witness. “That’s why they were rounded up in readiness. He wanted ‘em
driven away early so it shouldn’t be knowed he was sellin’ stock—claimed the S
P was short o’ cash. Was that so, Mister Seale?’

 
          
“No,’
the lawyer replied curtly.

 
          
“I
paid for these beasts, seven bucks a head, all round,’ Drait continued, amid a
dead silence.

 
          
“Can
you prove that?’ the Judge asked, and Gilman laughed. “I reckon,’ the nester
said. “Mister Williams.’

 
          
The
manager of the bank stood up; nearing fifty, with a keen, clever face, he took
little part in the activities of the town outside his business, and was
generally respected.

 
          
“Mister
Drait is a customer,’ he began quietly. “Recently he drew out two sums of seven
hundred and three hundred and fifty dollars exactly. At his request, I noted
down the numbers of the bills.’ He paused, and Sudden, watching Gilman, saw the
swift dawn of apprehension in his eyes. “Those identical bills, in amounts as
issued, have returned to the bank,’ Williams resumed. “They were paid in by
Mister Gilman to his private account.’

 
          
The
simple statement hit the audience like a landslide. Cries of amazement and
oaths of disgust came from all sides, and in the hubbub, Gilman—almost stunned
by this crushing blow—lost his head.

 
          
“You
made a mistake, Williams,’ he shouted. “I meant it for the ranch account.’

 
          
Instantly
Drait cut in. “Take notice, Judge; he admits I paid for the cattle.’

 
          
Williams
spoke again. “The bank does not make mistakes, Mister Gilman; I overheard your
instruction to my clerk on both occasions. However, since you now say these
sums belong to the S P, I will see that they are transferred.’

 
          
The
foreman forgot to thank him. He realised that he had completely given himself
away, and that personal peril had taken the place of the triumph for which he
had plotted. He stood there, head down, shooting furtive glances in quest of a
friendly face and failing to find it. But his ordeal was
non
yet over.

 
          
“Got
rid of any other stock lately?’ Drait asked, and when he got a sullen denial, “What
about the hundred three-year-olds sold to Bardoe? Lyin’ won’t help you, fella;
I have it here in yore own fist.’

 
          
Gilman
recognised the slip of paper, and despite the heat of the crowded room, was
conscious of
a chilliness
. How much more did this
devil of a nester know?

 
          
“I
forgot,’ he mumbled. “They ain’t bin settled for.’

 
          
“That
coin was due to the S P?’ The foreman nodded. “Then you’ll be glad to know it
was placed to the credit o’ the ranch some weeks back.’

 
          
Gilman
turned a vindictive glare on Bardoe, which Drait easily interpreted. “On’y
partly right,’ he said. “Bull provided the gold, but I collected an’ paid it
in.’

 
          
Towler
became aware that the 8 B man was regarding him with a heavy frown, and that he
was expected to do something about it. He fired a question at Drait:

 
          
“Anything more to say?’

 
          
“On’y
this,’ Nick replied. “I want you to get the layout. Gilman sold me the cattle
an’ put the proceeds in his pocket. Then he frames this charge, hopin’ I’ll
hang. If it happens thataway, he gets the stock back, an’ is one hundred an’
fifty bucks to the good, with nobody the wiser. It’s a safe bet he meant to
play the same game when Bardoe paid up.’

 
          
As
Drait sat down, Pilch shouted, “Well done Shadow Valley,’ and there was
considerable applause. The Judge rapped sharply on the desk.

 
          
“Silence!
or
I’ll clear the court,’
he cried.

 
          
The
storekeeper was not
no
be intimidated. “Which I’d
admire for you to try, Judge,’ he said derisively, and raised a laugh.

 
          
The
sheriff was whispering to the man on the Bench. “He’s got us cinched,’ he said
anxiously. “Ain’t there
no
way to ditch him?’

 
          
The
Judge considered, and then his weak mouth twisted into a vicious smile, as he
rapped again for attention. “The case is not yet finished,’ he said. “It is
clear that the cattle the accused claims to have bought were stolen by Gilman
for his own profit. Now, if Drait knew this, he becomes liable to charges of
conspiring and receiving.’

 
          
The
foreman saw an opportunity to bite; he could hardly make his own situation
worse. “An’ that’s how it was, Judge,’ he called out. “We fixed it up atween
us.’

 
          
“If
the accused has any statement to make I am ready to listen,’ Towler said
blandly, as though conferring a favour.

 
          
Drait
rose; this was an unexpected development, and he did not like it. “Gilman, as
foreman in charge, had the power to dispose o’ stock,’ he explained quietly. “I
bought, an’ took steps to protect myself against a possible snare. What had I
to gain by his crookedness?’

 
          
“You
got yore cattle damned cheap,’ Bardoe suggested.

 
          
“Not
so damned cheap either—I would ‘a’ let him have some at the price,’ Vasco
chimed in. “
An
’ if seven a head is cheap for calves,
what about the three-year-olds you got for ten?’

 
          
Bardoe
subsided, inwardly cursing himself. In his eagerness to strike a blow at the
nester, he had forgotten his own position.

 
          
Cullin
had listened unmoved, but only to appearance. From the moment Gilman’s
dishonesty had been revealed, he knew the day was lost. Towler’s persistency
was only making matters worse—he was showing bias too plainly. With Gilman and
Bardoe discredited, and Vasco in the other camp, the position was perilous. His
agile brain evolved a master move to snatch a personal victory out of defeat;
by defending Drait he would score with the townsfolk, and avert suspicion from
himself if misfortune fell upon the nester in the future. He stood up, and the
room became silent.

 
          
“In
the interest of justice,’ he began, “I must point out that the on’y evidence
against the accused is the word of a thief who has a’ready lied to the court.’

 
          
The
Judge stared; he knew he was about to receive orders, but he had to present
some sort of a front.

 
          
“What
do you mean, sir?’ he asked.

 
          
“Gilman
said the stolen herds were gathered for branding! Now he claims that was done
by arrangement with Drait.
Which statement you goin’ to
accept?’

 
          
“I
have not yet directed the jury, Mister Cullin,’ Towler said loftily. “
Anything else?’

 
          
The
rancher bit his lip. All right, if the old fool would have it. “Yeah, I very
much doubt if, havin’ found a man innocent of the offence he was accused of,
you have the right to bring in another charge. I know little o’ the Law, but
mebbe Mister Seale will give us an opinion.’