Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 08 - Sudden Takes The Trail(1940) (29 page)

 
          
“Seen
him go upstairs,” Galt informed.

 
          
With
a black scowl, Jake took the steps three at a time. The door of Mrs. Gray’s
prison was ajar, and he heard Sarks’ voice:

 
          
“This
is our chance to git off—I’ve bin waitin’ for the moment. My hoss is hid in the
brush handy. All the men
is
busy at the front; they
won’t see us.”

 
          
“You
are ready to desert your riders?”

 
          
“They
can take care o’ theirselves. I’m thinkin’ o’ you.”

 
          
“My
friends are outside,” she replied. “I shall wait here for them.” The contempt
in her eyes, coupled with the knowledge that time was precious, stripped him
off his mask. In a voice trembling with exasperation, he cried, “They’ll be too
late. Yo’re comin’ with me, like it or not, an’ before we’ve bin long together,
you’ll …” A burst of flame drowned the remainder of the sentence, and also the
footsteps of the man who slid into the room, gun in hand. He saw the bound girl
cowering on the bed, the insenate bully standing over her, and struck once,
swiftly and surely, with the butt of his weapon. Sark crumpled at his feet, and
he kicked the inert mass in sheer savagery.

 
          
“A
double-dealin’ coyote,” he said. “But he’s right about one thing—this ain’t
no safe place for you—nor
me.”

 
          
“Have
you—killed him?” she whispered.

 
          
“Reckon
not,” he replied, with a hard grin. “But I will if you say so.” She shuddered
but did not reply. The jarring crash of the firing was becoming incessant, but
so far the window of this room had escaped attention. Jake tested this by
allowing his hat to be visible—having first removed his head from it; no shots
came. He then picked up a rope from the floor; it had been Dave’s the girl
remembered with a sigh, and a portion of it had served to bind her. Working
swiftly, he looped it beneath her armpits.

 
          
“If
you sing out, or struggle, I’ll stop yor mouth with—kisses,” he threatened.

 
          
Silently
she suffered herself to be carried to the window and lowered to the ground,
where Mullins immediately followed her. As yet, they had been unobserved, but now,
with twenty yards of clearing to negotiate, discovery was inevitable. The
abductor had thought of this.

 
          
Slinging
the helpless girl across one shoulder, he strode forward, a jeer of triumph on
his face; they would not dare to risk hitting the burden he carried.

 
          
And
so it proved, but at the instant he disappeared among the enveloping trees, the
marshal and his deputy sprang up, and regardless of the bullets which greeted
them, sprinted after him. They reached the shelter of the brush safely, and
thrusting through, were in time to see the quarry fling the girl on the neck of
a horse, leap into the saddle, and drive home the spurs.

 
          
“Damnation,
he’s done us,” Dave panted.

 
          
Sudden
dropped to one knee, levelled his rifle, and squeezed the trigger. The horse
staggered and went down, but the rider jumped clear, dragging his captive with
him. One sweeping slash severed the cord confining her ankles, and she was
forced to her feet.

 
          
“Run!”
Jake hissed. “If those hombres catch us, you die.” He flashed the knife before
her eyes, and gripping an arm pulled her after him. “Hell burn their souls, I’ll
beat ‘em yet.” That he would stop at nothing, even murder, in his desperation,
she did not doubt, and strove to obey, stumbling blindly at his heels through
thorny thickets which tore her garments and lacerated the flesh. In and out
they wound, and she divined that her captor was chiefly concerned to baffle
pursuit, while at the same time, heading in a definite direction. Unnoticed,
she contrived at intervals, to let fall a fragment of her tattered frock. The
din of the battle behind them was growing fainter when they emerged into the
open again. Torn, breathless, with aching limbs, she sank wearily. But the
ruffian gave her no respite.

 
          
“Get
on, if you wanta live,” he ordered.

 
          
They
had come out on a scrub-and tree-studded declivity, along the face of which ran
a narrow ledge, a perilous passage even for a pedestrian, since one slip could
send the traveller hurtling down the steep slope to the pine-tops hundreds of feet
below. The girl gave one glance and shrank back. Jake gripped her shoulder and
pointed to some black wheeling dots high in the sky.

 
          
“Them’s
buzzards—waitin’ for one of us to fall,” he told her. “Now, git goin’ an’ watch
out, or it’ll be you.” Meanwhile, the marshal and his deputy were floundering
in the labyrinth of undergrowth into which the cunning cattle-thief had led
them. Broken twigs and trodden grass were all they had for guidance, and these
must be searched for, causing delay. Came a time when even these slight
indications ceased and they looked at one another in dismay. Then Sudden
chanced upon a shred of cotton material impaled on a thorn. Dave recognized it.

 
          
“Mary’s
dress,” he said. “C’mon.” A few yards further they found a second, and others
followed.

 
          
The
pointers enabled them to put on speed, with the result that they reached the
ledge in time to see the hunted man and his companion vanish round a bulge some
distance along it. The marshal swept the high ground which commanded the path the
fugitives were taking, and came to a decision.

 
          
“Yu
keep on his tail, Dave,” he said. “This looks like a hump in the mountain, an’
if I can cut across it, there’s a chance o’ headin’ him off.” He began to
climb, while Dave resumed the chase. Unhampered, save by the necessity for
care, he soon had the satisfaction of sighting the quarry. Goaded by curses and
threats, the girl was doing her best, but the exertion in the terrific heat
would have taxed the powers of an ox, and she was utterly spent. Aware of this,
and confident he had thrown off his pursuers, Jake told her she might rest a
moment.

 
          
She
slumped to the ground and closed her heavy eyes. A low curse made her open them
again; Jake’s face was towards the trail they had traversed; he was listening
intently. Round a curve less than fifty yards away a familiar figure appeared,
moving steadily towards them. With a murderous glare the bandit snatched out
his revolver and fired. The deputy saw the movement, and pulled the trigger of
the rifle he had no time to raise. He felt the wind of a bullet on his cheek,
and then saw the other’s weapon jerk into the air and drop into the abyss; his
lucky shot had torn it from the fellow’s fingers.

 
          
Dave
pressed on, his rifle ready; the miscreant might have a second six-shooter, and
be waiting to make a better job of it. But Jake’s one thought now was to save
himself
. With only a knife, he was no match for an armed man
who had every right and reason to shoot him like a dog. Dragging his prisoner
behind him so that her body should shield his own, he resumed flight, revolving
in his crooked mind a desperate expedient to secure his freedom. With that, and
the ransom money, he could make a start elsewhere. It involved sacrificing Mary
Gray, but there were other women, and she had been, largely, a means to an end.

 
          
“I’d
tire of her in a month,” he muttered, and snatched a glance backwards.

 
          
Dave
was overhauling him; he must act soon. Just ahead was a likely spot for his
diabolic design; the descending slope was less abrupt and about thirty feet
down was a clump of scrub-oak, jutting out from the inhospitable surface of the
mountain. Opposite this he stopped, lifted the girl, and laying her lengthwise
on the ledge, deliberately pushed her over and darted off, ducking to avoid
possible shots.

 
          
But
the sole spectator of this undreamt-of-development was too stunned to shoot.

 
          
Horror-stricken,
he watched the fragile form of the woman rolling helplessly to what seemed to
be certain death. Only when she collided with the oaks and hung there,
perilously poised on the verge of a deep vertical dip, did he find his voice.

 
          
“For
God’s sake, lie still,” he shouted.

 
          
There
was no sign that she heard; if she had fainted, came to her senses, and stirred
…

 
          
The
possibility sent a chill along his spine. Slinging his rifle, he
lay
down, face to the incline, and edged himself over the
brink of the ledge, clinging with fingers and toes to any inequality which
might lessen the speed of his descent. Outspread, clawing at the rock-face with
cut, blistered hands, he gradually lowered himself.

 
          
“If
I get outa this, I’ll never be mor’n a yard away from a rope again,” he
communed.

 
          
He
screwed his head round to find the bunch of gnarled trees only a few feet
below, and a moment later he was squatting beside the girl, calling her name,
and gently wiping the blood from a cut on her forehead. Fearful that she might
move, he put an arm about her, and soon her eyes opened.

 
          
“Oh,
Dave, thank heaven you’re safe,” she murmured. He was deeply stirred; after all
she had suffered, her first thought was for him. His clasp tightened.

 
          
“There’s
no fella in the world worthy of yu,” he said softly. “But will yu let me try,
Mary?” Bending, he kissed the upturned lips. “Yu don’t mind me doin’ that?” The
question brought a tremulous smile. “I couldn’t—very well—slap your face, Dave,”
she whispered.

 
          
“I’m
plumh loco,” he said contritely, as he released her wrists, and noting the
angry red weals the cord had caused, added viciously, “I hope Jim ain’t too
late.” For a while he was silent, cudgelling his brain to find a way out of
their predicament. To go for help would mean leaving Mary alone, and that he
would not do; Jake, finding himself intercepted, might come back, and there was
another danger—Argus-eyed—in the sky. Sudden would come in search of them
unless

 
          
…
He dismissed that thought too. He shifted a little and an ominous crack warned
him of the risk they ran by remaining there; the trees could not be
deeply-rooted.

 
          
“We
gotta climb up,” he announced, and was aware of a shiver she could not conceal.
“It ain’t far, an’ I’ll be right ahead o’ yu. Scared?”

 
          
“Yes,”
she admitted. “But with you …”

 
          
“We’ll
make it,” he assured her.

 
          
Standing
up, he drew his knife and set about the task of cutting footholds, as far as he
could reach, at short distances where the rock was sufficiently soft. Then he
helped her to rise.

 
          
“Hang
on to my belt whatever happens,” he cautioned. “Tread where I do, an’ don’t
look down.” Inch by inch, as it seemed to the rescuer, they crawled up, resting
every few moments while, clutching with one desperate hand, he scooped fresh
primitive steps with the other.

 
          
Though
she strove to lessen it, the dragging weight of the girl imposed a terrible
strain, and before long every nerve and muscle of his body was pulsing with
pain.

 
          
The
fierce sun swept the sweat from his skin almost before it was formed, and the
stone he had to grip burned his hands. Eyes glued to the cliff, he had no means
of measuring their progress, but he appeared to have been climbing for endless
hours when at length his fingers found the edge of the pathway. With a final
effort, he pulled himself andhis burden to safety, and collapsed, conscious
only of a blessed release from exertion. An anxious whisper aroused him.

 
          
“Dave,
you are not hurt?”
Mary was bending over, endeavouring to
remove the caked dust from his face, and there.
was
that in her eyes which restored strength to his overtaxed frame.