Read Online Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 07 - Sudden Rides Again(1938) by Oliver Strange - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Oliver Strange
Ads: Link
that he was still attending to business.
“He’s
behind that big stone on the point,” Sudden decided. “First, we’ll set him
afoot.” A thought came. “Any chance o’ them others circlin’ round an’ takin’ a
hand in the game?”
“Not
one,” Frosty assured. “Thisyer gorge is ‘bout three mile long an’ the sides is
straight up.”
A
couple of bullets into the ground beneath their feet sent the ponies careering
wildly out across the plain, and the hidden rustler expressed his opinion of
the proceeding with a miniature hurricane of lead which tore up the ground all
round the cowboys.
“I’m
suspectin’ he ain’t fond o’ walkin’.” Sudden remarked, adding grimly, “Well,
mebbe he won’t have any to do. See that rock to the right o’ the one he’s
usin’? The face slopes back towards him an’ there’s just a chance a slug might
angle off in his direction. Let’s try her out.”
They
made the experiment, painstakingly bespattering the stone Sudden had pointed
out. The unknown replied vigorously, but the two men had dug themselves in and
he did no damage. From time to time, a jeering shout commented upon what the
utterer evidently regarded as poor marksmanship. Then one of these was cut
short by an oath and the bombardment from the boulder ceased. For a while they
waited, suspecting a ruse, and then Sudden cautiously pushed his empty hat into
sight; no shot came.
“We
might ‘a’ got him, or mebbe he’s slipped away,” he said. He rose to his feet
and nothing happened. “We’ll take a look.”
They
descended to the floor of the gully, where the body of the brand-blotter
sprawled unnaturally by the fire, the running-iron still clutched in his hand.
A few yards away was his assistant, and both had
ceased to breathe. They were Mexicans of the peon class, and on the breast of
each was Satan’s sign, the little red imp. Sudden drew his knife and cut the
stitches which secured the symbol.
“Get
the other,” he told Frosty. “Might come in useful one time.”
They
climbed laboriously to the top of the bluff, only to find the boulder which had
sheltered the enemy deserted. The ground behind it was littered with cigarette
stubs and empty shells, while the other stone was splashed with the marks of
their bullets.
“We
scared him out, anyways,” Frosty decided.
Sudden
was staring at a red stain some paces away; there were others further on, with
zigzagging footprints and an uneven furrow which might well have been made by a
trailed rifle-butt. He did not follow them.
They
went down, fetched their horses, and rounded up the steers, on four of which
the brand had already been changed.
Frosty
surveyed them with lifted eyebrows. Diamond,” he said. “That’s odd.”
“Shore
is,” Sudden agreed gravely. “But why?”
His
friend laughed. “We fit so well together that I keep forgettin’ yo’re a stranger,” he explained. “Yu see, there is a Twin
Diamond range, an’ part of it runs cheek by jowl with our’n south-west o’ here.
The odd thing is that the owner, Martin Merry, is mighty fond o’ Keith, an’ the
least likely to rustle his cattle.”
“It
could be an attempt to make trouble atween ‘em,” Sudden surmised, and pointed
to one of the altered brands. “Pretty raw work; even when it’s healed up, a kid
could see it had been tampered with.”
“I
reckon yu got it,” Frosty assented. “Merry’s cows never stray this far—the feed
is poor—an’ his men would have to do some explainin’. What’s our move?”
“Drive
these
“He’s
behind that big stone on the point,” Sudden decided. “First, we’ll set him
afoot.” A thought came. “Any chance o’ them others circlin’ round an’ takin’ a
hand in the game?”
“Not
one,” Frosty assured. “Thisyer gorge is ‘bout three mile long an’ the sides is
straight up.”
A
couple of bullets into the ground beneath their feet sent the ponies careering
wildly out across the plain, and the hidden rustler expressed his opinion of
the proceeding with a miniature hurricane of lead which tore up the ground all
round the cowboys.
“I’m
suspectin’ he ain’t fond o’ walkin’.” Sudden remarked, adding grimly, “Well,
mebbe he won’t have any to do. See that rock to the right o’ the one he’s
usin’? The face slopes back towards him an’ there’s just a chance a slug might
angle off in his direction. Let’s try her out.”
They
made the experiment, painstakingly bespattering the stone Sudden had pointed
out. The unknown replied vigorously, but the two men had dug themselves in and
he did no damage. From time to time, a jeering shout commented upon what the
utterer evidently regarded as poor marksmanship. Then one of these was cut
short by an oath and the bombardment from the boulder ceased. For a while they
waited, suspecting a ruse, and then Sudden cautiously pushed his empty hat into
sight; no shot came.
“We
might ‘a’ got him, or mebbe he’s slipped away,” he said. He rose to his feet
and nothing happened. “We’ll take a look.”
They
descended to the floor of the gully, where the body of the brand-blotter
sprawled unnaturally by the fire, the running-iron still clutched in his hand.
A few yards away was his assistant, and both had
ceased to breathe. They were Mexicans of the peon class, and on the breast of
each was Satan’s sign, the little red imp. Sudden drew his knife and cut the
stitches which secured the symbol.
“Get
the other,” he told Frosty. “Might come in useful one time.”
They
climbed laboriously to the top of the bluff, only to find the boulder which had
sheltered the enemy deserted. The ground behind it was littered with cigarette
stubs and empty shells, while the other stone was splashed with the marks of
their bullets.
“We
scared him out, anyways,” Frosty decided.
Sudden
was staring at a red stain some paces away; there were others further on, with
zigzagging footprints and an uneven furrow which might well have been made by a
trailed rifle-butt. He did not follow them.
They
went down, fetched their horses, and rounded up the steers, on four of which
the brand had already been changed.
Frosty
surveyed them with lifted eyebrows. Diamond,” he said. “That’s odd.”
“Shore
is,” Sudden agreed gravely. “But why?”
His
friend laughed. “We fit so well together that I keep forgettin’ yo’re a stranger,” he explained. “Yu see, there is a Twin
Diamond range, an’ part of it runs cheek by jowl with our’n south-west o’ here.
The odd thing is that the owner, Martin Merry, is mighty fond o’ Keith, an’ the
least likely to rustle his cattle.”
“It
could be an attempt to make trouble atween ‘em,” Sudden surmised, and pointed
to one of the altered brands. “Pretty raw work; even when it’s healed up, a kid
could see it had been tampered with.”
“I
reckon yu got it,” Frosty assented. “Merry’s cows never stray this far—the feed
is poor—an’ his men would have to do some explainin’. What’s our move?”
“Drive
these
Similar Books
