Sudden--Troubleshooter (A Sudden Western) #5 (19 page)

‘Yeah, well give us some
drinks here, Dutchy,’ roared a man at the far end of the bar,
raising a long laugh from the others. The humor was rough, for they
were mostly men who lived hard, whose life was harsh. Easily
swayed, they had been Cameron’s while he had held the town in his
hand, and Sudden’s when he toppled the gunman. Now, as the
arguments about the legendary career of the Southwestern gunfighter
and what they had seen him do that night raged, so did the balance
of opinion shift forward and back.

Listening to them, his lips curled in
contempt, the Marshal of Yavapai laughed to himself; they could be
swayed again.

‘YU COMPLETE, utter, damn’
fool! Yu stupid idjut! I orta beat yu to a pulp!’

Had any of the respected
citizens of Yavapai seen their Marshal at this moment, as he paced
the floor of the Saber ranch house living-room like a caged
panther, their jaws would have dropped with astonishment. If it had
then been possible for them to see the object of the Marshal’s
vitriolic scorn their confusion would have been complete. Randy
Gunnison cowered before the terrible wrath of the slit-eyed lawman,
occasionally letting his
frightened gaze
wander towards Jim Dancy, who was sitting in the big leather
armchair watching Randy Gunnison’s discomfiture with savage
enjoyment.

‘I couldn’t do anything
else,’ whimpered Randy. ‘He’d cottoned on, I’m telling
you.’

‘Tell me what he
said.’

‘I told you
once.’

‘Tell me again. Every
detail. An’ by God, yu’d better not leave anythin’ out!’

Once again the scion of the
Gunnison family related the details which had led to his shooting
the old man. As he spoke, his eyes wandered as if drawn by magnets
to the window, through which he could see the wagon outside the
ranch. A tarpaulin loosely covered the huddled heap which was his
father’s body; Appleby had wasted no time after his
arrival.

‘He damn’ well bluffed yu,
Randy,’ grated Appleby. ‘He couldn’t have known anything! If yu
hadn’t been so spineless, this – ah! It ain’t no use frettin’ on
that. The question is, what do we do now?’

‘Looks like we try to pin
it on Harris, far as I see it,’ put in Dancy.

Appleby nodded,
preoccupied. ‘Yo’re right, I was thinkin’ the same thing. The
question is: how?’

‘Well, the answer better
come quick,’ Dancy retorted. ‘The hands’ll be in off the range in
an hour or two.’

Appleby nodded again. His evil mind was
working furiously, and he paced restlessly backwards and forwards
as he thought, a scowl of concentration upon his face. After a few
more minutes he stopped.

‘I think I’ve got it!’ he
exulted. ‘Listen, Jim. If yu see any holes in it, pull me up sharp.
I think I’ve got a way to pin it on that bunch an’ make it stick.
It’ll need some quick work. Here’s how I see it: Jim, yu get the
old man’s hoss saddled up an’ take it with yu an’ the wagon. Kill
somethin’ – coyote, some varmint, anythin’ll do – an’ smear blood
on the saddle. When yu get to the Yavapai, turn him loose. Make
shore he’s got plenty o’ marks on him to show he’s been across the
river. Then take the old man’s body up into the Mesquites, near as
yu can get to the Harris place. Don’t be seen, yu hear? That could
be – fatal.’

He paused to let the words sink in, and
Dancy nodded. Randy sat forward, his eyes gleaming with
interest.

‘Tip the body into a canyon
– somewhere nobody’ll find it without a real hard search. Then
spill some blood where it can be seen. Yu, Randy – what’d the old
man carry no matter where he was goin’?’

‘Yu mean … oh … his watch.
Gun. Wallet. Things like that.’

Appleby turned to Dancy.
‘Use his gun. Fire a shot out of it. Leave it where it can be
found, near the bloodstains. Scuff the ground up, but keep on hard
ground when yo’re leavin’ – I don’t want no tracks up there anyone
can foller back here.’

Dancy nodded. ‘Easy so
far,’ he growled. ‘What was the old man doin’ up in the
Mesquites?’

‘I already thought of
that,’ interjected Randy eagerly. ‘I can say he told me he wanted
to go up an’ talk to Harris, man to man.’

‘Wouldn’t’ve gone alone,
though,’ said Appleby thoughtfully.

‘That’s easy, too, Tom,’
Randy told him. ‘He said he figgered if he rode up there with some
o’ the crew they’d expect he’d come for war, and act accordingly.
He said he was going to go alone to make sure there was no trouble
… how does that sound?’

‘Sounds fair,’ admitted
Dancy. ‘I can’t see no holes in it.’

‘What do we do next?’
pursued Randy.

‘We sit an’ wait until the
hoss gets back. Then I go into town an’ raise a posse. We ride into
the Mesquites tomorrow, find the sign, an’ pay Harris a visit.’ He
fingered his chin thoughtfully. ‘I got a score to settle there,
anyway.’

‘So we pin it on the
nesters,’ Dancy said. ‘We still got to prove one o’ them did it.
They might all have alibis.’

‘For a whole day?’ scoffed
Appleby. ‘One o’ them at least has had to be out o’ the house long
enough to have done it. An’ anyway,’ – he leered – ‘who else
would’a’ done it?’

Dancy slapped his thigh, an evil smile
creasing his face.

‘
I got to hand it to yu,
Tom. Yu shore got it worked out sweet. Yu want me
anymore?’

‘No. Get on with it. An’
remember – don’t fail me.’ The words were quietly spoken, but the
threat behind them did not fail to register upon the burly Saber
foreman.

‘Hell, I got as much to
lose as yu,’ he protested. ‘I’ll take care of things real smooth.
Don’t yu fret none.’

In a moment the two men
heard him clamber aboard the wagon, and through the window saw the
Saber man hazing the team off down the trail towards the river.
Appleby whirled to confront Randy Gunnison.

‘Yu better pray we pull
this off,’ he gritted. ‘If anythin’ goes wrong yu’ll – regret
it.’

‘It’ll be all right, Tom,’
Randy said, smiling fawningly.

‘It might even speed things
up. That isn’t too bad, is it?’

‘Wait an’ see,’ the Marshal
told him coldly. ‘I got other worries.’ Randy looked his question,
and Appleby exclaimed impatiently, ‘Gawd, yo’re stupid! If Lafe
Gunnison could start wonderin’ who brought Wes Cameron into
Yavapai, yu think that Green feller won’t have had the same
question stuck in his craw? We can damn shore assume he knows
Harris ain’t responsible, an’ if it occurs to him that mebbe Lafe
didn’t bring Wes in neither he won’t take long to put two an’ two
together.’

Randy’s expression grew
apprehensive once more.

‘Yu mean – Cameron might
talk?’

‘He might,’ was the
meaningful reply. ‘I reckon I’d better make shore he don’t.’ His
words put a shiver down the listener’s spine.

‘I thought you said Cameron
was under control? If he were to talk …’ Randy Gunnison’s face was
drawn with fear at the prospect, and Appleby laughed
savagely.

‘If yo’re so worried, why
don’t yu ride in to Yavapai an’ fix it so he can’t?’

‘You’re not serious, Tom. I
couldn’t’

‘Damn right, yu couldn’t,
yu spineless jellyfish!’ snapped Tom Appleby. ‘An’ don’t yu forget
it. Cameron’ll be – taken care of.’ His face was malignant, lit
with evil. ‘In case yu ever think o’ steppin’ out o’ line, remember
this: yu ain’t indispensable any more. Lafe Gunnison is dead. Saber
is mine. Yu jest cancelled yore life insurance.’

Randy Gunnison looked at
the lawman with eyes as empty as ice in a bucket. The dreadful
realization of the power which the lawman had over him came all the
more shockingly as the words struck home. It was true. Now that his
father was dead, Appleby had no more need of him … unless
…

‘Yu’d better wait until
you’re sure your scheme has worked, Tom,’ he said, as firmly as he
dared.

Appleby eyed him with
contempt, only a faint curiosity in his voice as he said, ‘Is that
so?’

‘You may need the Saber
yet. If you have to get the nesters out of the Mesquites by force,
Saber riders will have to do it. And you’ll need me to tell them to
do it.’

Appleby’s expression
changed, and a warm smile appeared on his face.

‘Hell, Randy,’ he said,
clapping him on the shoulder, ‘I guess I spoke out o’ turn, at
that! You orta know I’m strung up a mite over this business. Hell,
yu’re a big part o’ my plans. Yu an’ me an’ Jim, we’re in this
together.’

Completely deceived by this complete change
of mood, Randy Gunnison warmed once more to the man who so
completely controlled his destiny.

‘By God, Tom,’ he enthused,
‘I can’t wait till we get that money and I can leave this rotten
valley! I only wish we didn’t have to wait. I’d go tomorrow if I
could!’

‘Don’t yu fret none,’
Appleby assured him. ‘When we take the pot, I am to make shore yu
get yores first.’

And so besotted by the
thought of the money earned by falsehood, betrayal, and murder was
Randolph Gunnison that he completely missed the possible double
meaning of the lawman’s final words.

THE
MORNING following Sudden’s return from Yavapai was a gloomy
one at the Harris ranch. The puncher had related in brief phrases
the events of the preceding night,
and
while the death of Cameron had been discussed only as a matter of
grim satisfaction, the further blow of Gunnison’s disappearance
brought concern to the brows of Sudden’s listeners.

‘Dammit, but that’s bad
news, Jim!’ exclaimed Harris. ‘Who d’yu reckon could be behind such
a thing?’

Sudden told him of the
remarks Appleby had made, and the old homesteader burst out, ‘But
that’s damnable! Yu mean he accused yu o’ bein’
implicated?’

‘Let’s say he didn’t
mention anyone else by name, an’ leave it at that,’ the puncher
responded. ‘I would’a’ said that yore Marshal was keener on
stirrin’ up trouble than he is on dampin’ it down.’

‘Oh, Jim, I can’t believe
that Appleby’s serious,’ interposed Taylor. ‘You’re likely
misreadin’ what he said.’

‘Mebbe,’ Sudden said
non-committally. ‘I wish he’d ‘a’ held fire on Cameron, though. I
wanted a long talk with that jasper.’

‘Yu think he might o’
talked?’

‘We’ll never know now,’
rejoined Sudden quietly.

They turned in early, and
in the morning rose to the unhappy task of burying their dead
neighbors. During Sudden’s absence two graves had been dug on a
grassy knoll a little distance from the Harris house, and the
homesteaders stood bare-headed beside the graves as the Virginian
and his friend were lowered into the earth. Alex Taylor read a
passage from the Bible, and they returned to a silent
breakfast.

The sound of approaching horses dispelled
their lethargy and within moments they were at their posts by
window and door, guns at the ready. They saw Tom Appleby lead a
group of about twenty men into the yard. The lawman hailed the
house. Taylor pointed out the presence of Randy Gunnison among the
riders, as Harris lifted the bar of the door and stepped out into
the open. He cradled his shotgun across his burly forearm and faced
the lawman.

Inside the house a quick
word from Sudden had sent Shorty scurrying to hide in the bedroom.
The tall puncher quickly told the others to keep the little miner’s
presence a secret should anyone enter the house; he had his own
reasons for not letting anyone from Yavapai see
Shorty – yet. Taylor and Kitson caught his drift
immediately.

‘If what he says about
Randy Gunnison is true, the more he keeps outa sight the better his
health’ll stay,’ Kitson remarked grimly.

Jake Harris spoke to Appleby.

‘Marshal,’ he began. His
voice was quite neutral. ‘What is this?’

Behind him Sudden moved into the doorway,
where he leaned almost negligently against the door-frame. Only a
close watcher would have noticed that at no time were his hands
further than a few inches away from the black butts of his
holstered revolvers.

‘A posse, all sworn in an’
legal!’ was Appleby’s clarion reply to the homesteader’s question.
‘So tell yore men to lay down their guns, Jake. Any trouble an’
it’ll go hard with yu men.’

Harris made no move to
comply with the lawman’s command, and Appleby flushed
slightly.

‘Yore man there tell yu it
looked like Lafe Gunnison’s been murdered?’ he demanded
harshly.

Harris nodded. ‘He told us.
I guess we was shocked. I don’t reckon any of us was upset. An’ it
don’t tell me what yo’re doin’ ridin’ up here with twenty
men.’

‘I’m doin’ what has to be
done,’ said Appleby, harshly. ‘I got to ask yu some questions. We
been lookin’ around in the hills since sunup. We found some
bloodstains, an’ Lafe Gunnison’s forty-five, with a shot fired.
Ground churned up some, but no tracks we could foller.’

‘Yu ain’t found his
body?’

‘No sign of it. If he was
bushwhacked, which I figger he must’a’ been, the killer could’ve
hidden the body somewhere that’d take us a month to find. It looks
pretty bad to me.’