Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 08 - Sudden Takes The Trail(1940) (10 page)

 
          
“What’s
goin’ on here?” Owen asked, and when he had heard the story, turned to Sark.

 
          
“Sore
at havin’ failed to hang a man for somethin’ he didn’t do, huh?” he said
contemptuously.

 
          
“He’s
an outlaw—wanted in
Texas ”

 
          
“He’s
wanted a damn’ sight more in Welcome, judging by this precious gathering; the
on’y thing I’m surprised at is that they had the pluck to try it in daylight,”
came the scathing answer. “I s’pose you made ‘em good an’ drunk first. Got any
proof of what you say?”

 
          
“That
fella knows him.” The Bar O owner regarded Javert with distinct disapproval. “I
wouldn’t destroy a dawg on his evidence,” he said bluntly. “What’s it gotta do
with you, Sark, anyways?”

 
          
“I
was invited by the citizens o’ Welcome to come in–.”

 
          
“Meanin’
Mullins an’ the lousy loafers from Dirty Dick’s?” Owen interrupted. “Well, you
are now invited to get out, pronto.” The Dumbbell man writhed under the lash of
that bitter tongue. “
yo’re
takin’ a high hand,” he
said. “I ain’t here alone.”

 
          
“I’d
noticed it, an’ if you want trouble …” Sark was not eager—the odds were no
longer in his favour; the majority of the townsfolk would side with the Bar O,
whose custom was of moment to many of them. Also, the riders from that ranch
were known to be willing fighters, ready to storm the gates of Hell itself at
the bidding of their boss. And the marshal … Sark reckoned up the chances and
made his decision.

 
          
“That’ll
come later,” he promised. “For now, I’m pullin’ out.” He swung his horse
towards the hills where his own ranch lay, and his men followed him in silence.

 
          
John
Owen turned to Masters. “I’m obliged to you, young man,” he said. “We were
delayed, an’ if you hadn’t got here when you did …”

 
          
“I’d
be hearin’ harps right now,” Sudden finished. “Yo’re flatterin’ yoreself, ol’-timer,”

 
          
Dave
laughed. “When did you get religion?”

 
          
“Jim’s
a methodis’, an’ he has Welcome mighty near convened,” Nippert said solemnly.

 
          
“There
goes some who ain’t converted yet,” Gowdy remarked ironically, indicating
another group heading for town. “Don’t you make the mistake o’ thinkin’ you’ve
finished with them,
marshal.

 
          
“I
won’t,” Sudden smiled. “But I feel like forgivin’ even Jake and Javert to-day.”
It was true; relief from the intolerable and ever-present burden of grief was so
great that he could harbour no rancour against any. But someone was missing—Sloppy.

 
          
“Had
to leave him in town—said his
feet was
wore off to the
knees,” Owen explained.

 
          
“My
idea is that he reckoned we’d be too late an’ he couldn’t face it.”

 
          
“There’s
a good deal of a man hid somewhere in that fella,” Sudden observed. “Welcome
ain’t troubled to look for it.” A mount was found for the marshal and he rode
with his friend, almost in silence. But each knew the other’s mind, and was
content; sentiment would have made both uncomfortable. At length, Dave said:

 
          
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with yore eyes, Jim?”
Sudden removed
his spectacles and stowed them in a pocket. “No,” he replied. “They
was
just a notion. My, this trail looks purtier’n it did a
while back.” The westering sun was casting long shadows as they loped into the
town, and passing the Widow Gray’s, Sudden had an idea which he communicated to
his companion.

 
          
“First
come, first served, is a right good motto,” he concluded. “O’ course, she’s a
widow, an’ ain’t as young as she was, but yu’ll like her—cookin’.” When Dave
entered the little dining-room, its owner was wiping her eyes; he could not
know that they were tears of thankfulness. She had seen the prisoner taken
away, and heard the purpose; now she had witnessed his safe return. She became
aware that the stranger was staring at her, nervously running the brim of his
big hat through finger and thumb. The sight of this slim young woman had him
guessing—wrongly.

 
          
“S’cuse
me, miss, but Jim—the marshal—said for me to tell yore mother that four hungry
men is aimin’ to pay yu a visit an’ mebbe she could sling a meal for us,” he
said awkwardly.

 
          
It
was her turn to stare. “My mother?” she queried. “There must be some mistake; I
am Mrs. Gray.”

 
          
“Well,
of all the scaly reptiles!” Dave gasped. “No, miss —ma’am, I mean, that ain’t
for yu, but that marshal fella He fooled me—said yu warn’t as young as yu was
once.” She laughed happily. “But that’s true of us all, isn’t it? Now, with
four men to feed, I must get busy.”

 
          
“Jim
said there’d be others to follow—the Bar O is in town; we’re sorta stealin’ a
march on ‘em.” She raised her hands in dismay at the prospect and darted away.
He followed her to the door.

 
          
“Say,
can I help?” She laughed again. “Yes, if you can peel potatoes.”

 
          
“I
can skin an ox, so I guess I oughta be able to shuck the hide off’n a measly
vegetable,”

 
          
he
replied.

 
          
So
when Sudden, Reddy, and Shorty arrived, sounds of mirth greeted them from the
kitchen.

 
          
“Sloppy
musta recovered,” Reddy remarked.

 
          
“That’s
Dave,” Sudden smiled. “Set him down in the middle o’ the Staked Plain an’ he’ll
be callin’ all the rattlesnakes by their first names inside an hour.” A moment
later the young man entered, wiping his hands, and grinning widely. “Yu fellas
ever tried peelin’ spuds?” he asked.

 
          
“I’m
tellin’ yu it’s an art. First two or three I held all wrong, an’ Mrs. Gray said
if she cooked what I took off yu’d get more to eat, but after she showed me, I
got along fine.”

 
          
“What
yu done to them fingers?” Sudden asked.

 
          
“The
durned knife slipped a few,” Dave admitted. “I came near bein’ shy some digits.”

 
          
The
arrival of the meal put an end to conversation for a time, but when appetites
began to wane, tongues became busy again. The Bar O men wanted to hear the story
of the Pinetown affair in detail, and then Reddy told of the shooting
match,
and the fight with Mullins, despite Sudden’s attempt
to head him off.

 
          
“Why didn’t yu blow his light out?”
Dave demanded, and as he
saw the expression on his friend’s face, added softly, “Yu of Piute. What yu
need is a guardian.” With the advent of more customers, they went away, leaving
their hostess overwhelmed by their praise. She refused Dave’s offer of further
assistance, Sloppy having turned up, painfully lame, but deaf to all her
protests.

 
          
“We
can’t have them boys goin’ away disappointed,” he said. “I can work settin’
down.”

 
Chapter
VIII

 
          
As
was generally expected, Jake and his adherents, though they had returned to
Welcome, had no intention of continuing to honour it with their presence. At
Dirty Dick’s, the same evening, the matter was discussed.

 
          
“I’m
goin’—but not very far,” Mullins announced to his own little circle. “No,
sirree, I’m aimin’ to even up with this place, as well as that swine, Owen, an’
fill my pockets at the same time. We’ll have to live rough an’ take a risk, but
the profits will be han’some. Any of you can come in, but it’s gonna be
understood that I give the orders.”

 
          
“I’m
game,” Javert said. “I’ve a few debts in these parts an’ ain’t leavin’ till
they’re paid—in full.” Sloppy brought the news to the marshal in the morning. “Jake
is clearin’ out.”

 
          
“Did
yu figure he’d stay?”

 
          
“No,
but he’s tryin’ to sell his business.”

 
          
“Yu
wanta buy it?” Sudden asked sardonically.

 
          
“Yeah,
but I ain’t got the coin,” was the unexpected reply. “An’ run in opposition to
Mrs. Gray?”

 
          
“No.”

 
          
“Then—by
Jupiter, yo’re right, an’ I must be dumb. She ain’t got enough room, an’ … I’ll
see Morley, he’s the fella to deal with this.” Forthwith he sought the banker
and explained his mission. “He’s askin’ two hundred an’ fifty, but I guess he’ll
take less; he ain’t servin’ five meals a day that’s paid for.”

 
          
“Leave
it to me,” the banker said.

 
          
He
found his man at home, and came to the point at once. “I’m told you’re selling
out; what’s the figure?”

 
          
“Three hundred, an’ cheap at that.”
Morley raised his
eyebrows. “For the shack, some bits of furniture, cracked crockery, and old
pots and pans?”

 
          
“Yo’re
forgettin’ the trade.” The banker repeated what the marshal had told him, and
walked from room to room, appraising the contents. When he was satisfied, he
turned to the vendor.

 
          
“One
hundred and fifty—cash, and dear at that,” he said shortly.

 
          
Take
glared. “I can do better.”

 
          
“Suits
me,” the other replied indifferently, and turned to go. “Tomorrow my price will
be one hundred only.” Mullins gave in; he was no match for the financier.
Already he had sounded every possible purchaser and met with refusal.

 
          
“Hold
on,” he said. “Its sheer robbery, but I’ll go you. I wanta take the trail
tonight.”

 
          
Morley
found the marshal in his office, and showed him the document.

 
          
“Good
work,” Sudden told him, and reached for a pocket.

 
          
“That
can wait. Now, we have to put this thing over so as not to hurt the little lady’s
self-respect. I have a scheme, but perhaps you’d like to explain it to her
yourself?”

 
          
“Not
on yore life,” the marshal said hastily. “I ain’t used to women—I’d make a
botch of it.” The young widow welcomed the banker with a smile; she liked this
grey-haired, sedate little man who had been well spoken of by her uncle.

 
          
“I
hear your trade is increasing,” he opened.

 
          
“Thanks
to some good friends,” she said.

 
          
“No,
largely to your own efforts,” he corrected. “But there are complaints.” A look
of concern replaced the smile. “Oh, not about
your
cooking, but the accommodation.”

 
          
“The
room only holds four,” she murmured regretfully. “But what can I do?”

 
          
“A
favour to Welcome, and to me,” he replied. “Mullins is leaving in a few hours
for good—our good, and I’ve purchased his business, lock, stock, and barrel. I
want you to move in there.” Her eyes shone, but she shook her head. “It would
be fine, but I couldn’t afford it.”

 
          
“All
you’ll have to pay will be a small rent to me,” he pointed out. “Won’t you give
it a trial?”

 
          
“But
of course,” she cried. “It’s a chance I’ve longed for, and I don’t know how to
thank you.” The banker stood up. “Well, that’s settled, and I’m glad. This town
will have a feeding-place to be proud of.”

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