Sudden Plays a Hand

`You ain't bin such a howlin' success. Drait's still in the Valley, firmer rooted than ever, an' with the town lookin' sideways at Camort....'

'Yo're tellin' me news,' Cullin said sarcastically.

`You act like you didn't know it,' Bull returned, in the same vein. `What do you want now, anyway?'

Cullin hesitated, purposely, and then, `I did have a proposition, but if yo're buryin' the hatchet with Drait, I'll be off.' `Please yoreself,' Bull shrugged. `But any hatchet I bury'll be in the beggar's skull.'

`He's had the devil's own luck.'

`An' friends he can trust. That's where you fall down, you've on'y got people you pay, an' don't trust. What was Lukor's price?'

`How should I know?'

`Like I said,' Bardoe sniggered. `Shall we mention a thousand bucks?' The rancher's slight start of surprise told the guess was a near one. `It would 'a' bin worth it, if--but there's allus an "if," Greg, ain't there?'

The visitor lit a cigar and rolled another across the table. Inwardly boiling, he forced himself to speak calmly. `S'pose you stop yappin' about what doesn't concern you an' listen to some-thin' that may.'

`Shoot.' Bull leaned back in his chair and expelled a screen of smoke, behind which he grinned in real enjoyment.

`I want some cattle lifted, an' it's goin' to be worth more than a thousand to you,' Cullin began. `It's the S P. Rustle a few, at short intervals, an' don't monkey with the brand. Keep 'em hidden some place, an' I'll pay ten a head when I take over.'

Bardoe pondered. `I don't savvy the game.'

`It ain't necessary you should.'

`That's what you think,' the other said curtly. `Find a bigger fool.'

Cullin swallowed the word `Impossible' and managed to say quietly, `I'm aimin' to bleed the S P white, give the owner a lesson, an' compel her to sell.'

`You bin after that range a good while. Too bad that cowboy routin' out the gal. Why don't you marry her?'

`That's another reason for carryin' out my plan; poverty is a fine reducer o' pride. Get on with it, Bull, an' when we're good an' ready, we'll take another whirl at that cussed nester.'

`It's a bet,' Bardoe said. `Sturm was one o' yore men, huh?'

`Yeah, you'll find the beasts bunched up--preparations for a round-up, likely. The outfit is bone-lazy 'cept one--Green's sidekick, Yorky; he's awake.'

`That damned young cub?' Bull exploded. `I've a score to settle with him. Awright, Greg; you've hired a man.'

When the visitor had departed, Bardoe indulged in a burst of laughter. `Bleedin' is a game two can play at, Mister Clever Cullin, but I'm with you part o' the way. Then mebbe it'll be you to git the lesson.'

The rustler's face was never pleasing; now it was hideous--a jeering mask of hatred.

The sun, slowly climbing into the blue vault above, was warming the keen, sage-scented air, which was yet cool enoughto make movement pleasurable. Away on the horizon the mountains were beginning to unwind their swathed wrappings of mist. It was a grand sight, but Drait's eyes were more often--unknown to her--on the girl by his side, noting the upright poise of her lissome body, the curve of her cheek, or the errant curl with which the light breeze was playing.

Mary too, was less attentive to the view. She was thinking of a ride with Cullin two days earlier. The contrast was marked. But she had to admit that he was more restful than the impetuous admirer from the Big C.

`Feed looks fine,' he remarked presently. `Not many cattle showin'.'

It was not long before they came across a score or more, and got near enough to look them over. `In good shape,' Drait conceded. `But there's some need brandin'.'

Mary looked annoyed. `That should have been attended to. I told Sturm he would find several about here.'

`How's he shapin'?'

She said the man was satisfactory, so far. They reached another small herd, containing more which had `missed the iron.' `I guess Gilman's fellas had an easy time,' Drait commented.

`They're still having it, apparently,' Mary said bitterly. It hurt her pride that this man, especially, should find subject for criticism when she had hoped for praise; Sturm must be made to understand he was there to obey orders.

`Know anythin' about yore fellas?'

`They close right up when I'm near. All I get out of them is "Yes, ma'am," or "No, ma'am." They're different from the Valley men.'

Draft grinned. `You bet they are. I'm boss, but those rascals are my friends, an' they know that, come what may, I'll stand by any or all of 'em to the finish. Such wouldn't serve under a Gilman. Now, what's yore trouble?'

She was about to deny, but he interrupted : `Don't say it; yore lips weren't made for lyin'--Mary.' The word slipped out --he had not meant to use it. He saw the red tide rise in her cheeks, out he could not know that her veins were tingling as they had not done when Cullin took the same liberty. `You see,' he went on hurriedly: `This is a stiff job you've taken on, an' it can't be mastered in a few weeks, though you've done amazin' well. O' course, you don't have to tell me, but....'

`I'm losing cattle,' she confessed helplessly. `Just a score perhaps at a time.'

`What's yore foreman doin' about it?'

The men are night-riding, but while they watch one part of the range, the thieves visit another.'

`Someone's gettin' information. Don't worry; these things happen, an' you must expect a loss now an' again, but it's gotta be looked into.'

Presently they encountered Yorky. `Able to find yore way around better?' Drait wanted to know. `I'm learnin' how th' land lies,' the boy replied.

`Mind the land don't learn how you lie,' the nester grinned. `These missin' steers now; got anythin' to tell us?'

`Yestiddy there was fifty right here, an' today I can't round up thirty; also, hoss-tracks in circles don't come o' theirselves.' `Have you reported to Sturm?' Mary asked.

`No, ma'am, I was aimin' to try an' track 'em down m'self.' `You any good at trailin'?' Nick asked.

`Not very,' was the modest reply. `Jim can read sign like an Injun.'

`We'll try him out. He'll be over in the mornin', an' we won't tell even the foreman. Sabe?'

`I'll be as dumb as a dead nigger,' Yorky promised.

When they reached the house, the sight of newly-turned soil jogged her memory. `I haven't thanked you for that suggestion,' she said.

Nick looked unhappy. `It warn't mine,' he blurted out. `It was Jim's, an' he fathered it on me, I dunno why. Don't let on I told you--I expect he had a reason.'

Her woman's instinct enabled her to make a near guess, and neither of the men suffered in her estimation by the disclosure. `We'll round up some roots for you--there's plenty in the Valley,' Drait went on.

`I'd rather have those than any,' she replied eagerly, and saw his grave face light up.

`Which is fine to hear,' he said.

The firm clasp of his fingers remained after he had left. Her eyes softened at the puncher's attempt to do his friend a good turn, and that friend's refusal to accept credit not due to him. She went into the kitchen.

`Lindy, what do you think of Mister Green?'

- `Reckon he's all man, honey, an' dey's sca'ce. Massa Nick's one, foh sho', but dat Cullin

`Is kind to me,' Mary reminded sharply.

The black woman shook her head; she was not to be convinced.

Chapter XVIII

Early morning found Sudden at the S P, and having collected Yorky, heading for the scene of the latest raid. Sturm saw them, but having been told that the boy was showing the visitor over the range, was not interested; if the time of a hand was wasted, it was the owner's affair.

The evidence on the spot was plain enough. Sudden studied the tracks closely.

`About twenty-five cows, convoyed by five riders,' he decided. `One of 'em forkin' a shod hoss, with a cross in the off hind shoe, for luck, mebbe.'

The depth of the imprints told that the beasts had been hard-driven, but after a mile had been covered, the pace fell off as the undulating plain gave place to broken, wild country.

`I ain't envying' 'em,' Sudden remarked. `Must 'a' been a moon that night.'

`There was,' Yorky said. `An' they wasn't usin' th' trail for the first time neither.'

They had arrived at the edge of a miniature desert, roughly circular in shape, and about a mile across. Into this the trail plunged and ceased abruptly; a wind had swept the light, powdery sand into tiny ridges, obliterating every trace.

`Gotta ride around her an' find out where they came off,' the puncher said. `Take the left an' keep agoin' till we meet.'

It was Yorky who found the spot, the rustlers having borne well to his side in crossing the arid expanse. This was their first real attempt to blind their tracks, but it was followed by another necessitating a search of the oanks of a stream along which the stolen cattle had been driven. A stretch of gravel next gave trouble, but after that the raiders apparently regarded themselves as safe. Finally, a stone-littered, winding pathway brought the trailers to what appeared to be a pile of rock. Closer inspection revealed an opening, masked by foliage, and secured by a barrier of newly-cut poles. Within was a cuplike depression, grass-carpeted, on which a herd was grazing. There was no sign of any herders, so they entered and walked their mounts forward until the brands were discernible.

`S P--over a hundred of 'em,' the puncher said. `An' as this place can't be far from Bardoe's range, it's an easy guess who fetched 'em here. Well, gotta get back an' report to Nick; I ain't trustin' Sturm.'

They took their time on the return journey, and evening was approaching when Shadow Valley was reached. Drait was awaiting them.

`Bardoe, no doubt,' he agreed. `That place is the Devil's Pocket; we'll have 'em out o' there tomorrow.'

`An' take 'em back to the S P?' Sudden asked.

`To be lifted again? No, they'll be safer here. We'll say nothin'; it'll be a pleasant surprise for--Miss Darrell. You two'll have to let her think you've failed, just for the time.'

`That's no matter,' Sudden smiled. `But ain't it rather risky to have stolen cows in the Valley?'

`Won't be for long, an' who's to know?' Nick argued. `Folks has to get permission to come in here now.'

He seemed set on the plan, and the puncher said no more but he did not like it; some intuition told him it would spell trouble. When the first streak of grey on the horizon proclaimed the coming of the dawn, Drait and his four men set out. Yorky had returned to the S P the night before; Sudden remained in charge of the Valley. It was late in the day when the outfit appeared again, driving a bawling bunch of steers; the Pocket had been emptied.

`Everythin' went slick as a greased rope,' the nester said. `We took it easy, fogged the trail some, an' went on a wide sweep to miss Bardoe's range. Never saw hide nor hair o' anyone.'

But the operation had not been quite so unobserved as he believed. When they were but a mile or so from home, one of Cullin's men had seen the herd from a distance and promptly investigated. Having dogged it to its destination, he carried the news to his employer, who frowned in perplexity when he heard it.

`Which direction were they comin' from when you first saw 'em?' he asked.

`West,' the rider said, adding, `Must 'a' taken a helleva road round if they were from the S P.'

Cullin dismissed him, and then tried to puzzle it out. The only conclusion he came to was that it required attention. Accordingly, in the morning, he journeyed--not unwillingly--to the S P, but instead of going to the ranch-house he swung off into the brush, and waited until he saw the man he wanted. A whistle brought Sturm to him--they had met there before.

`Mornin',' Cullin greeted. `Cattle still strayin'?' with an emphasis on the last word.

`Over a hundred head--it's that simple you can skin the range if you want.'

`I don't. Any more news?'

`That Yorky kid was showin' Green around day afore yestiddy,' Sturm replied. `I saw 'em start an' that's all any of us did see; the boy showed up agin at night--alone.'

As the rancher rode back to approach the house in the usualway, his brain was busy with this piece of information. Green was an experienced cowboy, and would know about trailing cattle. He had spent a whole day looking over a range the like of which he must have seen on scores of occasions. In the circumstances, Bardoe's men would hardly trouble about leaving tracks. It was all plain: Drait had the stolen steers in Shadow Valley. A Satanic smile distorted his lips; the nester had handed him the winning card.

The girl's welcome seemed less cordial than usual, and though the possibility angered him, there was no sign of it. After a compliment on her appearance, he asked casually, `Have you been partin' with cows lately?'

The question rubbed a sore spot. Sudden's failure to run down the raiders had been a sharp disappointment, and Mary had a vision of continued losses, and an end to her hopes of making the S P a success.

`Yes,' she replied ruefully. `Parting with them, but not willingly; they've been spirited away--in the night.'

`My, that's tough,' he said, in a shocked tone. `Lost many?' `More than five score, Sturm estimates.'

`I'm terribly sorry. The rustler is the bane o' the cattle busi- ness; there's on'y one cure--the rope. I'd hang every one caught with the goods.'

He spoke with vehemence, and the girl, smarting under her sense of loss, was disposed to agree. `I hate violence, but crime must be checked, and certainly these wretches deserve no mercy,' she said.

`Come for a ride,' he suggested, and when she was about to refuse, added, `I've somethin' to show you.'

He took her in a westerly direction, away from his own range. After nearly an hour, they reached a line of high bushes, pierced here and there with grotesquely-shaped spires and pinnacles of stone which appeared oddly familiar.

`We have a few yards to walk now,' Cullin told her.

He went ahead, making a path for her, paused, and pointed to a sapling. Put an arm round that and look down,' he said, drawing aside a branch.

`Why, this is Shadow Valley!' she cried.

`True'. What do you see down there?'

`Only cattle grazing.'

He passed her a pair of binoculars. `Try these.'

She did so, and the powerful lenses seemed to fling the nearest cow in her face. On its rump were the letters S P--her own brand. Wonderingly she directed the glasses to others of the herd; all bore the same mark. She turned to her companion.

`What does it mean?'

`I can't say. By chance I learned that over a hundred head, wearing yore iron, had been driven into the Valley yesterday evenin', an' when you told me you hadn't sold any, I guessed you oughta know about it.'

`Thank you,' she said, her face like pale marble, and returned the binoculars.

`Look again, an' make sure,' he urged. `Mebbe there's just a few strays.'

`I saw several dozen of my three-year-olds, picked animals,' she replied harshly. `I wouldn't have believed a man could stoop so low.'

`It looks bad, but seems incredible,' Cullin mused. `I wish I could help you.'

The ride to the S P was made in silence, and Cullin was content it should be so. He had sown the seed; solitude, and the outraged pride of a woman would bring fruition. When they reached the ranch, she did not invite him to remain. He played the hypocrite once more.

`Don't think too hardly of Nick,' he begged. `This is a lawless land, an' he is hot-blooded, impulsive--'

`It was a mean, cruel act,' she interrupted icily, and then her voice broke a little. `He could have had them for the asking.'

With these words ringing in his ears, he went away. Somehow, he did not quite like the sound of them, but he had done a good morning's work, and things were going well.

The girl he had left was far from sharing his satisfaction. Puzzled, angry, and utterly miserable, she sought her bedroom, to be alone her one desire. Her husband had behaved vilely, Green and Yorky had helped him. In all the world she had no one to whom she could turn for aid or counsel. Cullin had been kind--even to the point of pleading for the offender; he seemed to be her only friend. To confide in Lindy would be useless; the black woman would not hear a word against `Massa Nick.'

Why had he done it? she asked, over and over again, and always it was the same answer: because of a ruthless, masterful nature which took what it wanted, regardless of who might suffer.

Another explanation suggested itself. Drait resented her taking charge of the S P, and this was his revenge--the planning of a humiliating failure which would drag her pride in the dust, and bring her to him, disillusioned, begging for aid. Instinctively she looked at the portrait on the wall, and in the hard eyes and grim lips read a message : `Fight.' As though she had actually heard the word, she replied : `Yes, you had troubles too,and fought them. I am of your blood. If Drait has done this despicable deed, he shall answer for it.'

**

On leaving the S P Cullin had ridden at a sharp pace to the 8 B, the owner of which welcomed him with a grin.

"Lo, Greg, I shore hope you've fetched yore roll along; I got a li'l bill for you.'

`You don't have to worry,' the visitor returned. `What's the tally so far, an' where are they?'

`Six score, an' they're in the Devil's Pocket.'

`I'll stake the amount I owe you they ain't.'

Bull's glance was one of suspicion. `If you've fetched 'em away--' he began.

`Don't talk foolish,' Cullin said. `In the first place I didn't want 'em--yet; in the second, I'd no notion where yore cache was; in the third, I shouldn't 'a' taken 'em to Shadow Valley.'

Bardoe's eyes oulged. `Shadow Valley? What'n hell they doin' there?'

`Grazin', I shouldn't wonder,' Cullin replied. He liked to irritate, and the other's volley of oaths merely amused him. `Drait an' his men drove 'em in yesterday.'

`How'd they know where to look?'

`Green an' his young friend trailed you, is my guess.'

Bull damned the pair at length--he could see his li'l bill becoming waste paper; Greg Cullin was not the roan to pay for nothing. For once he was mistaken. The rancher must have divined his thought, for producing a big wad of currency, he pushed a portion of it across the table.

`I'm payin' just the same,' he said. `It so happens that Drait has stepped right into the loop that's goin' to hang him.' The rustler pouched the money. `How come?'

`You wouldn't care to be found with stolen stock in yore possession, I expect,' Cullin replied ironically.

`By God, yo're right, an' o' course, he stole 'em straight from the S P.'

`He an' his men'll tell a different tale, but who's goin' to swallow it? Besides, he could 'a' hidden 'em in the Pocket; found there, he'd never oe suspected, but you would.'

Bardoe scowled. `That's so. Allasame, I owe Green somethin'.'

`Better let the debt run--Finger-shy was no slouch,' Cullin reminded drily. 'Listen: the sheriff will pull Drait in tomorrow mornin' an' shove him in the calaboose to await trial. Now, in case the girl turns soft, I want her out o' the way till the whole affair is over, an' that's where you come in. Get the idea?'

`I'm to carry her off an' keep her hid,' Bardoe said.

`It's a pleasure to work with you,' Cullin complimented. `Where can you take her?'

`My cabin on Black Ridge, the other side o' the Big Quake. She'll be safe enough--ain't many know of it.'

The Big C man nodded. He had seen the place, an extensive and wide strip of morass which had proved a death-trap to many hundreds of cattle. An expanse of brilliant green, dotted with tussocks of coarse grass and reeds, it appeared innocent enough. But the pressure of a foot brought the moisture squelching up, and to stand still even on the brink for a few moments was to court disaster.

`It must be done tonight,' Cullin went on. `In a little while, when Drait has been dealt with, I shall discover where she is and rescue her, payin' you a ransom of three thousand dollars.'

Bardoe was too cunning to jump at the proposition. `I shall have to split with my fellas,' he objected.

`You won't need many--Sturm an' his crew will be out on the range watchin' for rustlers, so you'll have a clear field. There must be no violence; if the girl is hurt in any way, payment will be in--lead.'

`Ain't threatenin' me, are you, Greg?' Bull fleered. `Be easy, I'll take care o' yore ladylove, an' mebbe shake a leg at yore weddin'.'

But when the Big C owner was receding in the distance, he shook a fist instead, and growled, `Damned mongrel. Lead, huh? You'll settle in gold, my friend, an' I'll fix the figure; the S P, with the dame thrown in, is worth a lot more'n three thousand.'

Chapter XIX

AT the Big C, Cullin bolted a meal, saddled a fresh mount, and hastened to Midway. Camort, lolling drowsily in his office, woke with a start when the great man entered.

"Lo, Greg, anythin' new?' he enquired.

`Yeah, we've got him.'

`Meanin'?'

Cullin swore impatiently. `That infernal nester, o' course. Where are yore wits?'

The sheriff smothered a sigh; he was rather weary of battling against the `infernal nester.' With a dubious expression, he remarked, `That jasper's as hard to hold as a greased rattler, an' as dangerous.'

`Don't talk like a weak-kneed quitter,' Cullin snapped, and proceeded to explain the situation. Camort brightened visibly. `It shore does seem we got him where the hair's short,' he admitted. `But if the gal lets us down....'

`She won't appear a-tall--I'm arrangin' that. Yo're actin' on a complaint about the rustlin' an' request for the punishment o' the culprits, received from her.'

`I ain't' the sheriff commenced, but got no farther.

`Don't be dumb,' Cullin said angrily. `Her protest was made to me, an' I'm handin' it on; she won't be there to deny it. In any case, you have yore duty to do.'

`Shore,' the officer smirked. `What she wants don't really matter--the welfare o' the public comes first.'

`Quite, but keep that admirable sentiment for the court. You will arrest Drait in the mornin', lock him up, an' see he stays that way. If he gets out, you'd better climb a tree, tallest you can find.'

`S'pose he resists?'

`Six o' my outfit'll be in town; you can use 'em. I don't fancy he'll fight, but if he does, it's yore duty to get him--dead or alive. Understand?'

`You bet. I'd rather hang him, but I ain't one to think o' my own pleasure.'

Cullin's next call was on the Judge, and again the position was set forth. Towler's fear of the rancher exceeded his dislike, but he had no affection for the nester either, so he readily promised to do his part.

`Within the Law, Mister Cullin,' he said. `Strictly inside the bounds of my office.'

`Of course, Judge,' Cullin smiled. `Have I ever asked you to do otherwise?'

`No, sir, you knew that such a request would be futile. This trouble-maker appears to have so acted that the Law can now deal with him--effectively.'

`Well, it's up to you an' the sheriff. I don't think he can wriggle out as he did last time.'

The reminder was unnecessary, the Judge had not yet forgotten the fiasco of the former trial. He frowned and said :

`We will endeavour to see he does not, sir,' which was the assurance the visitor wanted.

Midnight was near when a rider with a led horse paced noiselessly up to the S P ranch-house, dismounted, and dropped the reins, leaving the animals a few yards from the building. He had already ascertained that only one light was showing--from the parlour. Cat-footed, he stepped on the veranda and peered through the glass door. The girl he had come to find had fallen asleep over the fire, an account book lay on the floor beside her. He noted, with satisfaction, that her hat and coat were on another chair; this simplified matters. Pulling his own hat well over his eyes, and covering the lower portion of his face with his neckerchief, he stepped inside.

`Keep yore tongue still an' you won't be hurt,' he said, in a low tone.

Mary awoke with a jerk, made to rise, and sank back again as she saw the muzzle of a six-shooter within a few inches of her face.

`What do you want?' she managed to whisper.

`Obedience, just that,' was the reply. Put yore things on. We're goin' for a ride, an' remember, one scream'll be yore last.' She knew it was useless to resist. Lindy would be snoring, Milton, in his little shack next the kitchen, would hear nothing, and Sturm had told her that the men would be out on the range till dawn.

When she was ready, he motioned her to the door, turned out the lamp, and followed; she felt the barrel of the weapon against her spine. They reached the horses, mounted, and set off, the man still holding the lead-rope. Almost at once, four riders emerged from the shadows and fell in behind them.

It was very dark, the few stars, pin-points of light in the sky, seeming only to increase the gloom. Mary could form no idea as to the direction in which they were travelling, but from the fact that progress was slow, and frequent turns necessary to avoid black masses of foliage, she guessed they were breaking a new trail through the brush.

The captive, tired and despondent, rode like one in a dream, holding the reins slackly, and making no attempt to guide the beast she bestrode. Fortunately the animal was docile, sure-footed, and the shapeless dark bulk beside her was watchful. She was almost sure this was Bardoe, and the possibility filled her with dismay; she had heard much about him since their first meeting, none of it to his credit.

She became aware that he was speaking: 'Too damned dark to risk the Quake tonight, boys. Have to ride around her. Better be safe than sorry.'

`Yo're whistlin', Boss,' one of the men agreed.

`Shore is one hell of a place,' the leader remarked. `I hate crossin' it; one wrong step an' it's--curtains.'

The dreary miles dropped behind, and then Mary became aware that they were climbing, and that the stars were no longer visible. Also, the riders had strung out in single file. She surmised, correctly, that they were mounting a narrow pathway through a forest. The air grew colder, and there was a breeze which increased as they mounted higher. Then she saw a light, and one of the men said fervently:

`Home, sweet home, boys, an' I hope to Gawd grub's ready.' `Well, here we are,' the leader remarked, as he drew rein opposite the light, which proved to be an open door.

Mary got down, so stiff and fatigued that she would have fallen had he not placed an arm about her. Instantly, she straightened and recoiled.

`I'm all right,' she said.

`You done noble,' he replied gruffly. `There's warmth an' food waitin'.'

`I need sleep--that only. Where is my--prison?'

He conducted her to a small room, with a floor of bare boards, and an unglazed window only a cat could get through. The candle he lighted brought to view a pile of blankets on a pallet bed, a chair, pail of water, and a torn but clean towel. On one of the log walls a cracked mirror was hanging.

`Rough quarters, ma'am, but we'd little time,' the man said. `I ain't tyin' you up, but remember that the Quake lies between here an' the S P. The key o' the door will be in my pocket, so you can sleep easy.'

`Why have I been brought here?' she demanded.

`I dunno,' he lied. `All I can say is that if you make no trouble, you'll meet no trouble.'

The key grated in the lock. She bathed her face, removed hat and coat, spread her blankets, and lay down. Despite her determination to remain awake, she slept.

Bardoe returned to the big room, where, at a long table, the men who had accompanied him were eating, and washing the food down with generous doses of spirit. Four others were smoking round the log fire. One was Gilman, who looked up with a leer.

`So you got her?' he said. `I hear she was dressed ready, too. Yo're allus lucky.'

`Lucky?' chimed in Lamond from the table. `An' Bull all fixed to play the part o' lady's maid.'

Some of them laughed, but their leader's face was mirthless. `Beau, I hate to tell a man he's a damn fool twice in one night,' he said, and looked at Gilman. `The girl's got grit; that ride would 'a' taxed a man some, but she never let out a squeak.'

`Hell, Bull, whatsa use gittin' sore over the dame? Drait's no saint, an' it wouldn't surprise me if she's feelin' lonely.'

Bardoe whirled on him, ferocity in every feature. `Listen to me,' he barked. `If I catch anyone near the gal's door I'm shootin' first an' enquirin' after. Get me?' His threatening gaze swept the room. `A complaint from her an' Cullin'll go back on his bargain, an' we'll have a battle with the Big C on our hands.'

`Bull's right, boys, as usual,' Lanty put in. `It ain't worth the risk; me for the dollars, every time.'

The muttered agreement appeared to guarantee that the prisoner would be undisturbed, but the leader was taking no chances, and when retired to his own room, he did not sleep. His followers piled fuel on the fire, got their blankets, and made themselves comfortable.

Bardoe, in the darkness, sat listening to the snores which mingled with the crackling of the logs. Presently he caught another sound--stealthy footsteps in the passage. They paused, waited, and then went on. He slipped off his boots, drew his gun, and noiselessly followed. He could hear someone fumbling at the girl's door, seemingly searching for the keyhole. The rustler raised his gun. The report, deafening in the confined space, brought the sleepers from the big room, one of them carrying a blazing brand from the fire.

`Hell, what's broke loose?' Lanty cried.

`Somebody after the girl,' Bardoe replied.

By the unsteady light of the improvised torch they surveyed the crumpled, supine form of Lamond; a key was gripped in his right hand.

`Well, I warned him,' the killer said dispassionately.

`Where'd he git that key?' Lanty asked.

`One o' the other doors, I guess; thought it'd fit, which it might've,' Bull said. `Take him away--she's stirrin'.' He called out : `It's awright, ma'am; a gun went off accidental-like.'

Two of the men carried the limp body into an empty room. `He allus was a fool 'bout females,' one of them said, as they dumped it on the floor.

Chapter XX

Breakfast was over in Shadow Valley, and the nester, with Sudden, had ridden down to the gate, where Quilt was on duty. The foreman seemed worried.

`Hope you ain't keepin' them S P steers long, Nick,' he said. `Our feed is limited, an' they make me uneasy, anyway.'

`They'll be gone soon,' was the reply. `Who in blazes is this acomin'?'

Sudden studied the approaching bunch of riders, ten in all. `It's the sheriff, an' seein' he's fetched along plenty assistance, it spells trouble,' he remarked.

`Get the other boys, Quilt,' Drait said. `It may come to a scrap, but we'll hear what he has to say first.'

Emboldened by his superior force, Camort rode right up to the barrier. Drait, standing in his stirrups, asked, `What might you want?'

`You,' was the blunt answer. `I got a warrant.'

`

Again?' Nick said, with a shrug. `Don't you ever get tired o' doin' the same things?'

`This'll be the last time. Open up, we're comin' in.'

`You don't say?' The rest of the outfit had arrived. `There's on'y six of us, but we're good, an' this wall ain't easy to climb. Let's have a look at yore authority.'

The sheriff handed up the document, and Drait read it. `The old charge--stealin' cows from the S P. Dug up some fresh evidence, Stinker?'

`Yeah, an' we're here to see it don't run away.'

Nick was studying the visitors. `Half o' you from the Big C. So Cullin's in this, huh?'

`Quit foolin' an' let us in,' the officer said. `I want them cows.'

`To put in as witnesses?' Drait asked. `Now, I'll give you a choice; the herd stays where it is until the Judge makes an order, an' I give myself up, or--you can let yore wolf loose.'

Camort considered the proposition. His main purpose was to secure the person named in his warrant. He had talked boldly to Cullin, but faced with danger, he had no stomach for it. His followers showed no enthusiasm for the task of scaling that wall in the face of six skilled gun-wielders. In a battle his office would not protect him. Sudden's sardonic eye settled the matter; he seemed to be deciding where to plant his bullet.

`Well, that's fair enough,' the sheriff said.

Drait turned to his companions. `Take notice I'm goin' willin'ly. If I'm shot in the back....'

`I'm comin' with yu, Nick,' Sudden put in. `Any dirty work an' Midway will be shy a sheriff.'

Camort scowled; he did not like the arrangement, but was powerless to prevent it. Drait unbuckled his belt and tossed it to his foreman.

`Take care o' that, an' hold the Valley against all comers,' he said.

`Shore will,' Quilt said dourly. 'Yo're playin' the hand, Nick; me, I'd sooner argued with 'em.'

With a gloomy face, he saw them depart, Drait and the puncher riding together, the posse--split into two groups--in front and oehind, a disposition which evoked the nester's contempt.

`Cautious man, Stinker,' he commented. `Well, Jim, once more yo're right--I was a bonehead to cache the cattle in the Valley. Wonder how that worm got on to it?'

`Somebody saw you fetch 'em in,' Sudden surmised. `It's serious this time.'

`I'm believin' you. Rustlin' is bad, but robbin' a woman, my--friend, is damned bad. An' the truth ain't worth tellin'.' Their arrival in town was witnessed by many. Looking at the faces, Drait soon realised that public feeling was not in his favour; men he knew well avoided his eye. Pilch was not of these; the size of the posse gave him an opening.

`On'y ten to bring in a desp'rit character like Nick?' he said loudly. 'Yo're takin' chances, Stinker. Think what a loss you'd be; we'd have nobody to laugh at.'

Having seen his friend safely installed in the calaboose and made a mental plan of the place, Sudden returned to the Valley in the late afternoon and found another problem awaiting him. Yorky had come racing in with the news that the mistress of the S P had vanished. At first it was assumed that she had gone for an early morning ride, as her saddle and pony were missing, but when, after some hours she did not appear, it was discovered that her bed had not been used. Then the saddled pony drifted in, and the outfit spread out to scour the range. Yorky came for help. No, the foreman didn't send him.

Sudden nodded. `How does he figure this out?'

`Well, her hat an' coat is gone, an' the door to the veranda unbolted. Sturm suggests she went to sleep over th' fire an' wakin' in daylight, took a tide to freshen up an' met with an accident. Brownie was a pet an' would come at her call.'

`Mighty ingenious, but it don't add up,' the puncher said. `She's been carried off, an' the hoss turned loose as a blind, mebbe by Sturm. Where was he last night?'

`With th' rest of us, watchin' for cattle-thieves what never showed up.'

`They were after other game. Yorky, we got a job to do. No, Quilt, two will be enough. The rest get some sleep; we'll be on the move early.'

It was late that night when the sheriff, dozing in his office and feeling the effects of a lavish celebration of his capture--mostly at the expense of others--heard a light tap at his window. He was rather unsteady, but he managed to open the door, and nearly lost a tooth on the muzzle of a revolver.

`One chirp, an' they'll be fittin' yu with wings--mebbe,' the masked man holding the weapon growled.

The sheriff allowed himself to be pushed into the room, and turned round obediently when ordered. The gun-barrel boring into the small of his back, he submitted to his wrists being handcuffed behind, a gag jammed into his jaws and secured by a handkerchief--his own--which also deprived him of sight. A final operation roped him in his chair so that movement became impossible.

In picking up a bunch of keys on the desk, the visitor observed a paper. It read : `I have the girl. Rush the trial and carry out verdict pronto.'

It was signed with a sprawling `C,' and went into the finder's pocket. On a shelf, a dusty, little-used volume attracted him; it was a copy of the State laws. He took it down, read a certain section, and replaced it thoughtfully. Then he turned to a door on the left, which he knew must lead into the prison. Opening it softly, he saw a wide, dimly-lighted passage. At one end was the main entrance, heavily-barred, and at the other, the cell where the nester was confined. A thin line of light, almost opposite where he stood, indicated a room from which came the murmur of voices--deputies on guard, no doubt.

Silent as a shadow he stole to the cell, took out the bunch of keys, and at the third attempt found the right one. The prisoner was deep in dreamland; he must be awakened without noise. Sudden tried the old hunter device--pressure below the left ear, and in a few moments the sleeper quietly came back to consciousness.

`It's Jim,' Sudden whispered. `Follow me, and not a sound.'

Drait obeyed, without argument. Stealthily they crept back to the sheriff's office, and the nester smiled widely when he saw the helpless, muffled figure. The puncher extinguished the light and they slid outside. Yorky was waiting for them; his task had been to procure the prisoner's horse and saddle from the sheriff's corral. In five minutes, keeping behind the buildings, they were clear of the town. Then the released man put a question.

`Tell yu all about it at the Valley,' Sudden promised. `For now, we gotta ride.'

It was not until they entered the bunkhouse, and the cheers which greeted their appearance had subsided, that Nick got his answer.

`An' you figured I'd like to help find her?' he said. `I'm thankin' you.'

`Solitude has dulled yore wits some,' the puncher smiled. `Ain't it plain they want the girl out o' the way till yu've been disposed of, an' to leave yu in the calaboose would be handin' 'em the pot?'

`You think that's why she's been taken?'

`Yeah, they're scared she'd plead for yu. There'll be mostly men in the court, an' Miss Darrell is a mighty attractive person--though mebbe yu ain't noticed it.'

The mild irony reddened the nester's cheeks. `That's one time yo're wrong, Jim,' he said quietly. `What else?'

`This,' Sudden replied, and showed the message he had found on the sheriff's desk.

`Cullin?' Drait exclaimed. `If he's harmed her I'll cut his heart out.'

`If yu can find it,' Sudden said. `That can wait; we gotta get Miss Darrell.'

`She wouldn't be at the Big C?'

`No, that'd be too raw; someone is workin' for him. We can be at the S P by daylight an' mebbe pick up a trail.'

`Line yore bellies, boys, it looks like bein' a long day,' Drait warned. `I shall want all o' you, an' fetch yore rifles. The Valley must take care of itself.'

The eastern sky was lightening when they arrived at the S P. No one was about. Sudden sent the others into hiding, and proceeded on foot to the ranch-house. At the end of the building he found a spot where two horses had stood. Tracks of two people came to the place from the veranda, and the narrow sole and high heel of one set pointed to a woman. They had mounted there and moved away in a westerly direction. Occasional indentations led him to an opening in the brush where hoof-pitted ground and cigarette butts proclaimed that a party of riders had waited; one print showed a cross in the off hind shoe.

`Pretty much as I guessed,' Sudden reported, when he rejoined the others. `If we can keep on their trail ...'

Keeping on the trail proved to be a trying and slow affair, for much of it passed over coarse grass; often they completely lost it, and all of them had to dismount, circle, and search on foot. Time after time, however, patience and perseverance prevailed, and in due course they reached the Big Quake. No one of them had seen the place before, but the tracks, showing plainly in the softer ground, led straight to the morass. Drait, who was getting impatient, quickened pace, but Sudden caught his arm.

`I don't like the look of it,' he cried. `Why's the grass green there an' burned up here?'

`But they went,' Nick argued.

`Yeah, a couple of 'em rode past here an' backed their hosses mighty brisk. Look at Nig; he knows.'

In fact, the black, with a snort of fear, had commenced to sift its feet uneasily. Nick looked down and found his own animal had sunk to the fetlocks. Hurriedly they retreated. Sudden, swinging down in his saddle, picked up a chunk of wood and slung it on the line they would have taken. For a moment, they saw it, and then it was gone.`Nice place--on a dark night,' he said.

Retracing their steps, they found where the quarry had jumped aside on to firm footing. Circling the morass involved another wearisome ride, but at length they got to the pine-clothed slope, and saw, about halfway up, a tiny ribbon of smoke spiralling out of the tops of the trees. As they paced up the narrow pathway, rifles were examined in readiness. Soon they heard someone whistling, and could see the cabin through the trees.

`We'll leave the hosses in that bunch o' bush off the trail,' Sudden suggested. `Quilt, Shorty, an' Smoky can sneak round back o' the buildin', case they try to vamoose. We'll give yu fifteen minutes to get into position. The firin' will tell yu when the dance is on; then use yore judgment.'

The three men melted away into the undergrowth, and the others waited, silently. The quarter of an hour seemed endless, but presently Drait gave the word, and they moved forward, spread out, and using the tree-trunks as cover. When the cleared space in front of the cabin was reached, the nester shouted, `Hello, the house.'

At once the door opened and Bardoe appeared, rifle in hand. `Who's there?' he called. `Come ahead, with yore paws up.' Nick stepped out. `You know me, Bardoe,' he said.

`So you got away?' he said, amazement evident in his tone, and damned himself for the slip. `What you want?'

`Miss Darrell, an' you needn't lie; I know she's here--Cullin has given the game away.'

`Then I play my own hand,' Bull replied, and with a sneering laugh, `Go to hell.'

With the last word he fired, sprang back, and slammed the door. His bullet whined past the other's ear. An instant later came darts of flame from the two windows and several loopholes; no damage was done.

`Me an' Yorky'il deal with the windows, Nick,' Sudden called out. `Yu an' Long take the loopholes.'

For some moments the stream of lead continued, but beyond trimming the trees and bringing down showers of twigs and leaves, it accomplished nothing. In both directions, lead threaded the air, chipping bark from the trunks sheltering the assailants, and zooming through the now glassless windows beneath which the defenders crouched. The latter had not been lucky; two would never fight again, and several were hurt. Bardoe strode up and down the room; things were going ill. Frayle, his left arm useless, had an idea.

`Why not git away, an' take the gal with us? If they foller, we can wait for 'em--under cover. Shall I see if the back's clear?'

Bull nodded; it seemed the only chance. He was wondering if indeed Cullin had weakened? `He would, curse him, to save his hide,' he muttered. `Where in hell is Frayle?'

That individual was having troubles of his own. Incautiously poking his head out of the rear door, he received a rap with a revolver butt which dropped him senseless.

`Tally one,' Smoky chuckled. `Next please.' No more victims offered. `What do we do now?'

The spiteful crack of the rifles had ceased again when Quilt answered : `If they won't come out, we just naturally gotta go in. I'll give Nick the signal.'

He sent three rapid shots skyward, and they dashed into the building, guns out and spitting lead. The foreman's first objective was the big door, which he unbolted and flung wide. He caught a glimpse of his friends racing for it, and twisted only just in time to dodge a rifle-butt which would have split his skull.

For the next few minutes the invaders had a hectic time, for they were outnumbered and fighting desperate men. Even the advent of their comrades did not at once settle the issue. Choking in the acrid reek of burnt powder and dust raised by stamping feet, the battle continued. At such close quarters reloading was impossible, and the combat soon resolved itself into single-handed tussles in which rifle or pistol-butts, fists, or feet were the weapons.

In this wild melee, Yorky was pounced upon by Bardoe, who had not forgiven the Shadow Valley incident. The boy fought like a wildcat, striking, kicking, biting, but he was outsized and out-weighted, and a crashing blow sent him reeling to the floor. Sudden, who had just accounted for one opponent, turned on the rustler.

`Try one yore own size,' he gritted, and drove a granite fist to the body, following it up with another to the jaw which jolted the big man back on his heels.

Bull grunted and cast a swift glance around; it told him that the day was lost. With a headlong rush, and a rain of furious punches, he forced his man to give ground, and then, twisting, leapt through a nearby window to vanish in the undergrowth a few yards distant. Sudden swore; he had set his mind on getting Bardoe.

So he too used the window, but instead of following the runaway, he made for his own horse. He conjectured that the man would head for the 8 B, and he knew Nigger could overtake anything in the shape of horseflesh Bull might possess. Passing down the winding trail, he re-charged his weapons, and halted in the fringe of the pines. His reasoning proved correct; after a short wait, the fugitive emerged well to the left, and he was mounted.

Sudden rose into view, hoping the fellow would turn and face him, but apparently Bardoe had but one idea--to get away, for he at once began to spur and thrash his horse furiously. A word, and the big black shot forward as though on springs, the mighty muscles moving to and fro beneath the satin skin like the well-oiled parts of a machine. Swiftly the gap between the two animals was closing up, and Sudden saw the man front making frantic efforts to get more speed.

`If he thinks he can tire Nig out, he's due for a surprise,' the pursuer reflected.

Then comprehension came; Bardoe was galloping straight for the Big Quake; the inviting green patches were already plain. `There's a road across an' he knows it. Quit dawdlin', yu imp o' darkness.'

A lengthened stride resulted, and when the black, scenting danger, stopped abruptly on the brink of the morass, the fugitive was less than a dozen yards distant. Sudden slid his drawn gun slowly back into the holster; there was no need for it. One of two things had happened; either Bardoe, in his haste, had mistaken the crossing-place, or the treacherous sub-structure of the bog had shifted. Apparently he had soon learned his peril and swung his horse round to return, but too late. The violent struggles of the terrified beast only hastened the end; already, its head alone protruded. Standing in the stirrups, with distended, horrified eyes, the rustler voiced an agonised appeal:

`Shoot, damn you, an' finish it.'

`Had yu a hand in killin' Olsen?'

`That was Cullin's work. I was there, an' spoke agin it; he wouldn't listen.'

`Will yu bear witness to that, if I save yu?'

`I'll spill everythin'--I swear it,' Bardoe said earnestly. `For Gawd's sake, hurry.'

The last words were almost screamed. The trapped man's mount had disappeared, and only by holding his arms high could they be kept clear of the churned-up, vicious mess which, like a live thing, seemed to be reaching for them. He strove to move his legs, close-clamped by the clinging mud, but fiends below were tugging at them. A vile smell of rotting vegetation almost choked him. In a spasm of frenzied fear, he repeated his promise and his oath to keep it.

With what must have been maddening deliberation, Sudden lifted his rope from where it hung and made his cast. The loop fell truly over the up-stretched arms to be grabbed and pulled tight below the arm-pits by feverish hands. The puncher twisted the other end round the horn of his saddle, and spoke to the horse: `Back, boy, but slow, mighty slow, at first; we don't wanta tear him in two.' Inch by inch, the man was drawn from the clammy clasp, and at length lay spent and gasping, but safe. When Sudden removed the rope, Bardoe sat up, gazed at the hell from which he had escaped, and shook as with an ague.

`I couldn't bear it,' he muttered brokenly. `To see it comin'that filthy muck fillin' my mouth, nose, an' eyes, suffocatin', stranglin', an' me--helpless as a babe. I've allus figured I could face death with the next fella, but not thataway. S'pose I'm a coward?'

Sudden shook his head. `It's an ugly end.' He rolled a smoke, passed it over, and proffered a light. `I guess yore makin's are wet.' Bardoe took it eagerly, regarding the giver with a puzzled expression. The tobacco soothed his frayed nerves. `Yo're a curious cuss,' he said. `Half an hour back you'd 'a' blowed me to hellangone, an' now....'

`I've a use for yu,' Sudden reminded. `I've done my part o' the bargain.'

`You shore have,' Bull agreed, and drew a deep breath. `It's fine to be alive. What you want me to do?'

Sudden told him, in detail, and the rustler replied. `I get you, an' I won't fail, whatever comes to me,' he said quietly. `I'll do what I can about that,' the puncher promised, and stepped into his saddle. `Reckon my friends have cleaned house by now.'

Bardoe saw him vanish into the wood, and only then became aware of a tobacco sack, papers, and matches lying where the rescued man must see them. His eyes gleamed.

`There goes a fella who could beat me every time,' he told the world.

Chapter XXI

BARDOE'S flight finished the battle, such of his men as were able following his example, and disappearing into the surrounding forest. Drait at once went in search of the prisoner. He found a locked door, rapped, and got no response. Lifting a heel, he drove it at the fastening. With a splintering crash it gave way, swinging drunkenly back on its hinges. Mary was standing at the far side of the room; the fear in her eyes died out when she saw him.

`You?' she cried.

`Were you expectin' someone else?' he asked drily.

In truth she was, having jumped to the conclusion that Cullin had come to her rescue. `You might have been one of the brutes who brought me here,' she explained.

Lack of warmth in her reception angered him. 'No, I'm one o' the brutes who has come to take you away,' he retorted. `Better stay here till we've straightened up.'

He went out, leaving her with the knowledge that she had behaved badly; but the picture of her cattle feeding in Shadow Valley would not be blotted out. Yet he had fought for her freedom, risking his life--she recalled the trickle of blood down one cheek. She must apologise. She nerved herself to again seek the nester, and found him with Quilt in the big room, bending over a prostrate form.

`This is no place for you,' he said.

`Who is it?' she asked, and when they told her it was Gilman, she knelt beside the man who had robbed her. Even to inexperienced eyes, the haggard, pain-wracked face and loose jaw showed that the end was near.

`I wanna drink,' he mumbled weakly, but when she called for water, a ghastly grin trembled on his lips as he added, `I said--a drink--ma'am.'

A half-empty bottle of whisky was on the table. Drait poured a stiff dose and Quilt tipped it down the eager throat. The fiery spirit gave a temporary strength. The weeping girl looked appealingly at the nester, and the dying man understood.

`Ain't nothin' to be done,' he murmured. `Sorry--'bout yore cattle, ma'am. If I could make amends....'

`You can, Jack,' Drait said. `Tell me who murdered Eddie.' `Cullin--strangled him--hisself.' His voice grew feebler. `Off'n thought o' Eddie, an' now--it's--my turn.'

Quilt laid the limp form gently on the floor, and placed his hat over the staring, lifeless eyes. Drait led the girl away. `Was that true--about Cullin?' she whispered.

`Yeah, a man don't lie at such a moment,' he replied. `Get some rest; it's a long ride back.'

She was glad to be alone. Seated in her late prison, she strove to reconstruct her disrupted world. Cullin, her one friend--as she had believed--was a heartless, brutal murderer. She could not doubt it. And if she had been wrong there, had she erred in other judgments? What did it all mean? She could find no answer. Voices broke in.

`Glad yo're back, Jim,' she heard her husband say. `What about Bull?'

`He got away.'

`So did some o' his men, Lanty among 'em,' Drait grumbled. `We've three to plant, an' Frayle has a busted arm. No, we've been lucky--a few grazes.'

At the end of an hour, preparations for departure were complete, graves dug and filled, mounts found for the lady and prisoner. The nester decided to strike south-cast for Shadow Valley, which would cut down the distance considerably. He and Sudden led the way, with Mary and Yorky following, and the others, shepherding Frayle, oehind. All were too tired to talk, and even Yorky lost his loquacity.

It was dark when at length they reached the Valley to find Lindy awaiting them. The S P without her mistress had proved too much, and she had prevailed on Milton to drive her over, to a greater loneliness. She received them with voluble expressions of delight, but her chief concern seemed to be the state of the kitchen.

`Yoh'd sca'cely b'lieve, honey, a passel o' men

`We're tuckered out an' hungry, woman; get some grub,' Drait said brusquely. He looked at Mary. `You'll stay here tonight.'

He was gone before she could reply, and she smiled a little; that was his way. But she wanted to thank him, and since the moment he smashed the door of her prison, he had given her no opportunity. Was he purposely avoiding her? The thought was curiously disturbing. Sitting in the parlour, she waited for his return. She heard Sudden speaking to Lindy and called him in.

`Where is--Mister Drait?' she asked.

`Well on the road to Midway, by this. Didn't he tell yu?' Sudden replied. He saw she did not understand, and went on to tell of the arrest and suosequent escape, passing lightly over his own part in the latter. She listened with mounting colour, and then cried indignantly :

`You let him go?'

He smothered a smile. `Nick is full-growed, an' when he decides on somethin' he's mighty liable to do it. About yore cattle...'

`Oh, damn the cattle,' she burst out, and then, `I'm sorry. You were saying?'

`He didn't steal 'em, on'y got 'em back from the fella who did, an' fetched the herd here for safety, an' meanin' to surprise Yu-

'Then you and Yorky did find them?'

Sudden's grin was entirely unrepentant. `Yeah, but it would 'a' spoiled Nick's plan to let on.'

`I still don't see any reason for returning to prison.'`He has to face the music. To run would admit guilt.' `I see that now,' she said. `Who is bringing the charge?' `The sheriff, backed by Cullin.'

`But surely, what you have discovered about the wretch....' She paused as the puncher shook his head.

`Rustlin' is a capital crime in a cattle country,' he told her. `What Cullin is, or has done, won't explain away yore steers in Shadow Valley.'

`But there is an explanation,' she persisted. `His men--' `are accomplices,' he reminded. `Besides, they'd be expected to swear black was white to get their boss outa trouble, an' they would.'

`What had kidnapping me to do with it?'

`They feared yu might 'a' stood up for him.'

`Might?' she repeated. `Of course I would--and will. When does this infamous trial take place?'

`In the mornin', I'd say; they won't lose time. We'll all be there.' Then, inconsequently, `Nick's a real fella, but terrible unseein'--times.'

His kind but probing gaze confused her. `Thank you, Jim,' she murmured. `We must save him.'

`Shore we will,' he replied. `Mebbe we got a card they don't know about.'

The silver light of the moon which softened the crudities of Midway, only revealed the identity of the late visitor as he rode nonchalantly along the one street. Citizens stood still, stared, and rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The prisoner who had effected a sensational escape from the calaboose was the last person they dreamed of seeing. To a man they followed dumbly, and when--indifferent to the excitement he was causing--he got down at Merker's and stopped in, they crowded after him. Within, the paralysing amazement was repeated, and the saloonkeeper, who was serving a customer, nearly dropped the bottle.

`Goda'mighty, Nick, are you mad?' he asked, as the nester ranged himself at the bar.

`No, on'y thirsty.' He helped himself. `Where's Stinker?' `Just comin' in,' was the disgusted reply.

The sheriff was pushing his way importantly through the throng, gun out, and an unholy expression of joy on his face. `So it's true,' he muttered, for he had doubted the news. `Stick 'em up, Drait.'

The nester laughed. `Cut out the play-actin', Stinker. I'm not heeled an' came to find you. I want five hundred bucks.' The sheriff's bloodshot eyes bulged. 'Whaffor?' he asked.

`Bringin' myself in--alive, which is a disappointment, I know, but it had to be that way. Who put up that reward--the town or--Cullin?'

`None o' yore business,' Camort growled uneasily.

Pilch pounced on him. `Mebbe, out it's our business if yo're spendin' money to git back prisoners you've let go, an' we wanta know.'

The sheriff was cornered, and knew it. `It warn't town money,' he admitted sullenly. `A private citizen, who don't want to be named--'

`Cullin's modesty is well known,' the nester broke in.

The sheriff flared up. `You oughta talk, robbin' a young gal under cover o' purtendin' to help her.'

This time he scored, and Nick was aware of hard looks. He clenched his fists in an effort to fight down the fury surging within him. Then he spoke :

`Stinker, if I didn't know yo're just achin' for an excuse to pour lead into me, I'd shake yore teeth out an' cram yore lyin' tongue down yore throat,' he said. `Now, I've had a busy day, an' need sleep.'

The officer reluctantly emptied his glass and signed to his deputies. `If he flaps a wing, drill him, good an' plenty,' he ordered.

`I'll come an' tuck you up, Nick,' Pilch grinned, and to the sheriff. `If there's any funny business, you'll be tried in the mornin'--by yore Maker.'

Having seen the prisoner duly incarcerated, and posted guards at door and window, Camort called on the Judge, who was--surprisingly at that hour--sober. He listened to the news with a dubious air.

`Surrendered after getting clear away. He must have an answer to the charge.'

`It's yore affair to see he don't have any such thing,' the sheriff said. `Cullin--

The Judge held up a hand. `Listen: my affair is to administer the Law. Cullin, to me, is just another man, and I'm weary of his name; don't mention it again.'

The visitor gaped; decidedly the Judge was sober, dangerously so. `I thought' he began.

`Don't over-tax my credulity,' Towler said cuttingly. `I will hear the case in the morning, and hope the accused will not be missing.' Camort told of his precautions. `Better have someone to watch over your own slumbers,' came the acid comment. `The girl will be absent.'

`That's so.' `Unavoidably detained, one might say.'

The other agreed, and came away somewhat perturbed. He comforted himself with the reflection that Cullin would soon bring him to heel.

Chapter XXII

THE court-room was filling rapidly when the Shadow Valley party arrived. The hum of conversation increased as they marched up the middle gangway, and many glances of admiration were directed to the girl. Pale, out with head high, she appeared indifferent to the interest their entry occasioned. When they reached the front row of seats, which was empty, Wall-eye came bustling up.

'Them's for the witnesses,' he warned.

`I guessed as much,' the puncher said curtly, and sat down. The deputy decided not to argue.'

Vasco, his foreman, and three riders were a couple of rows behind, and Sudden went to speak with them.

`What'n hell was Nick thinkin' of to come back?' the rancher queried.

`On'y the guilty run away, ol'-timer,' Sudden smiled. `He'll make the grade.'

`Shore hope so, but if anythin' goes awry, there's five here you can depend on--to the limit.'

`That's good listenin'. I'm not forgettin' it.'

`Pickles ! You did me a service. We ain't catched Bull yet, but he's keepin' his han's off.'

`Been busy other ways, but I've a notion he won't trouble yu no more.'

`Which'll suit me fine. So that's the S P heiress? She certainly rests the eyes.'

`I'll tell her yu said so,' Sudden grinned.

`Don't you, or I'll light out,' Vasco threatened. `Hello, there's Greg, an' he's lookin' kind o' surprised.'

He was right, but `surprised' was a pallid description of the Big C man's state. He had seated himself at the end of the front row, near the jury-box, before he saw the girl; he started to rise, only to sink down again under the freezing glance she gave him. How did she come to 'be here? A qualm of uneasiness shot through him.

The appearance of the accused, escorted by the sheriff, was the next incident. He nodded to his friends as he passed, stepped unconcernedly into the dock, and surveyed the jury critically.

The Judge slouched in, the jury was sworn, and Towler turned to the dock.

`Nicholas Drait, you are charged with stealing stock from the S P ranch,' he said. `Do you plead guilty or not guilty?' `Which would you advise, Judge?' Seriously.

`I'm not here to give you advice,' Towler snapped.

`I keep forgettin' yo're on the other side,' Nick said ruefully, a naive expression which brought titters from the audience, and made the Judge angry.

`I am not on either side, sir,' he thundered. `And let me warn you that facetiousness will not help your case. Answer my question.'

`When in doubt, toss for it.' Nick spun a coin and studied the result anxiously. `Not guilty. Well, what's fairer'n that? D'you mind tellin' me who's bringin' the charge?'

The Judge did not see the sheriff's negative headshake. `Naturally the person who was robbed,' he replied drily. Mary stood up. `I am that person, and I know nothing of it.'

Towler frowned; he had been misled again. He referred to a paper. `My information is that you lodged a complaint with the sheriff and asked for action to be taken.'

`I have neither spoken nor written to him at any time.'

The Judge's silence told Camort he must get out of the difficulty himself. `The message came by another party, an' warn't written,' he explained.

The name, please,' Mary insisted.

The sheriff hesitated, but there was no alternative; for once in his tortuous career he must tell the truth. `Gregory Cullin.'

Her contemptuous gaze travelled to where the rancher sat. `Mister Cullin had no authority whatever to bring a message from me.'

The rancher rose. `Miss Darrell told me of her loss an' expressed the view that no punishment was too severe for a rustler. I believed I was carryin' out her wishes in gettin' the sheriff to move in the matter,' he said heavily.

Mary ignored him. `It is admitted I did not authorise this--this--'

`Prosecution?' Towler suggested, with a smile which acted like a goad on the girl.

` "Persecution" was the word I was seeking,' she retorted. `I have no wish for it to go on, and ask you to dismiss the accused forthwith.'

Flushed and breathless, she sank into her seat amidst general applause. Coarse-fibred as most of the audience were, they could appreciate beauty, and above that, courage. She found her real reward in the warm eyes of the man in the dock.

Silence fell on the court; everyone was waiting for the decision. Towler, listening to Camort, noticed that Cullin was talking to one of the jury.

`You must not do that, Mister Cullin,' he said sharply. `If it happens again, I shall have you removed.'

The rancher drew back, his face rigid. `Sorry,' he drawled and with a palpable sneer, `I thought the case was ended.'

The Judge bent his gaze on the girl. `The matter is less simple than you imagine, ma'am,' he began. `You may condone a crime, but I cannot; it is my duty to protect the public.'

`No crime has been committed,' she replied hotly. `Mister Drait did not steal the cattle.'

`That is what we are here to determine; the trial must go on.'

She sat down, her eyes flaming. Sudden patted her shoulder, rose, and smiled apologetically at the Judge. `She's just naturally disappointed, seh,' he said. `Ain't wishin' to delay proceedin's none, but I'm wonderin' if yu'd settle a triflin' argument for me? A fella claimed that when a woman marries, any property she has becomes the property o' the husband. I didn't agree, an' we had a li'l bet.'

`Which you have lost,' Towler said. `That is the law.'

`Never was lucky,' Sudden said sadly. `I'm obliged.'

But his expression as he sat down belied his voice, and the meaning look he gave the girl beside him electrified her. Red-faced, eyes shining, she cried : `I again demand the release of the accused.'

The Judge gestured wearily. `On what grounds now?'

`You have just stated them. Nicholas Drait is my husband, and owner of the S P. Even this court cannot convict a man of stealing what already belongs to him. Here is the proof.' She produced the paper the minister had given her on that fateful morning.

Again the paralysed silence as the Judge bent over it. When he looked up it was to ask sternly : `Why wasn't I told of this earlier?'

`The marriage was kept secret, at my request--the whim of a foolish woman.' Mary said steadily. `I did not know about the law until you answered Mister Green.' She smiled, enjoying her triumph. `They say a little knowledge is dangerous, but it seems to me that a little ignorance is more destructive.'

The Judge did not reply; he was tasting the bitterness of defeat and not liking it. But there was no escape. In his best judicial manner, he said: `The evidence now before the Court completely destroys the case for the prosecution, and exonerates the accused.'

The effort was received in silence. The cheering broke out only when Nick walked from the dock, gripped his wife's hand hard enough to account for the wetness in her eyes, and turned to thank his friend.

`Forget it,' Sudden said hastily. `The Judge is goin' to dismiss the jury; he mustn't do that.'

He stepped on the platform, to be greeted with a sour look of surprise, and a sharp, `Well, sir?'

`This business ain't finished,' the puncher said bluntly. `Mebbe this'll interest you.' He laid a letter on the desk.

Fear gripped the jurist as he read. Briefly, the document informed all whom it might concern, that the bearer, James Green, was deputed to enquire into the Pavitt succession, and other irregularities in and around Midway, and to deal with them as he thought fit. All officials were required to give him every assistance. It was signed, 'Bleke, Governor.'

The Judge drew a difficult breath. He could vision himself losing everything, even his lioerty, for the Governor's attitude to ill-doers justified his name. `I wish you had made yourself known to me earlier.' Sudden smiled. `What do you wish me to do?'

`Tell 'em the show ain't over.'

The Judge rapped for silence, and made the announcement, rather more grandiloquently than the puncher had put it, and the audience, eager for the excitement, quietened down.

`What next?'

Sudden pointed to Cullin, who, slumped in his seat, chin on chest, seemed oblivious to what was happening. Indeed, the revelation that the woman he coveted was married to the man he hated, following by the latter's triumph, had mentally stunned him. Put that man in the dock.'

Towler gasped, doubting his own ears. 'Cullin's the most powerful man in these parts,' he expostulated.

`Not just now,' Sudden reminded.

The old man shivered, called the sheriff, and gave the order. Camort convinced that his chief had gone mad, stammered, `Ain't feelin' sick, are you?'

The Judge was--very sick. `Do as I tell you,' he snapped.

Like one awaking from an evil dream, Cullin sprang to his feet. `What the hell's the meanin' o' this, Towler? Are you crazy?' he cried.

`Charges have been made against you, Mister Cullin, and must be investigated--in your own interest.' The mild answer brought reason. Cullin felt no apprehension; he had covered his trail too cleverly, but it would be foolish to antagonise those present. So he dropped his bluster, and laughed.

`Never thought of it thataway, but yo're right.' He stepped jauntily into the dock, and as he passed, the sheriff deftly lifted the gun from his holster. At any other time he would have been struck down, but the rancher merely shrugged; he had a part to play.

He did it well. As he faced the whispering, excited crowd, few suspected the furnace of fury raging in his breast. One thing puzzled him--what had the cowboy to do with it? `Well, Towler, trot out yore charges,' he challenged.

It was the cowboy who answered. `What amount did yu promise Seale if he succeeded in not findin' the heir, an' got permission to sell the ranch?'

`I made no promise an' knew nothin' of his plans. I was willin' to buy the range if it came on the market.'

Sudden produced the letter found in the lawyer's office, and the Judge read it aloud.

`I never wrote that,' Cullin denied. `It's a forgery.'

`A small matter, anyway,' Sudden remarked carelessly. `But that don't go for yore plot to get Drait plugged in Little Basin.' `With which I had no connection.'

`On'y to put up the money, two hundred apiece; Tomini talked, Cullin,' the puncher said sternly. `Well, they bungled it, so yu had to try again. This time yu raised the ante, an' offered a thousand to Lukor, a notorious professional killer.'

`Whose name I never heard till after the shootin',' the rancher sneered.

`Two witnesses can testify yu called on him at the Rideout hotel the day afore he came to Midway.'

`Liars are easy found.'

`Yu oughta know. Lukor fell down on the job, an' stayed down,' Sudden went on grimly. `He picked the wrong man; yore description must 'a' been lackin' some. For yore own safety, yu decided to let Drait live a little longer, an' turned yore attention to grabbin' the S P. As usual, yu hired others to do the dirty work. They were to steal an' hide cattle so that yu could collect 'em when the owner had been scared into sellin' yu the ranch. Yore rustlers were careless, the cows traced an' fetched back to Shadow Valley.'

`You oughta be writin' dime novels,' Cullin said, but his eyes were uneasy.

`That gave you yore chance; it shore looked like an open an' shut case o' rustlin',' Sudden continued. `The sheriff was instructed to arrest Drait, an' yu had the S P owner kidnapped so that she could not interfere.'

`That's an infernal lie,' Cullin cried, with a fine air of indignation.

The puncher's reply was to hand the Judge the letter he had found on the sheriff's desk. The reading caused a sensation.

Cullin dismissed it in two words : `Another forgery.'

`No,' the Judge said firmly. `Comparing these with others in my possession, I find the writing identical.'

`On the strength of two letters I never wrote, and a lot o' guess-work, I've been accused of attempts to break the law, but Drait is still alive, the lady is back in our midst, an' I still do not own the S P. My career of crime seems to be a failure.'

`Not quite,' Sudden corrected. `Once yu succeeded, an' that once will hang yu, Cullin. I mean the murder of Eddie Olsen.'

The blow went home. Confidence left him, fear taking its place.

`Easy to accuse,' he said. `Where's yore proof?'

`With his last breath, Gilman named yu.'

`He allus hated me. A dead man's word; is that all?' Cullin jeered.

Sudden beckoned towards the door, and two men sitting by it rose and walked to the platform. Exclamations of wonder followed their recognition. `Bull an' Frayle. What's comin' now?' men asked.

`Bardoe, yu saw Olsen die. What happened?'

`Nine of us went to throw a scare into Drait. Olsen said he warn't to home. Cullin called him a liar, clutched his throat, an' swore to choke the truth out'n him; he choked the life out instead. Me an' Frayle protested, but he was past listenin', just murder-mad. When it was done, he told two o' his men to hang the body from a limb, and said it would show Drait we meant business.'

Sudden looked at Frayle. 'Anythin' to add?'

`No, that's just how it was.'

The pitiful story brought a low, threatening growl, mixed with forcible expressions of disgust. Cullin shot a furtive glance at the spectators; contempt, cold condemnation, ironical curiosity, satisfaction, all these things he read in the hard faces, but no pity. He made a last effort :

`What are they payin' you for these lies, Bardoe?' he asked.

`A lot less'n you offered me for robbin' the S P an' carryin' off its mistress,' was the reply. The rustler's fierce eyes swept the gathering. `Every word I've said is God's own truth, an' if I have to follow you into the dock, I won't squeal--if they clean it out first. I ain't proud o' my record but it don't include guzzlin' an unarmed cripple.'

Cries of `Good for you, Bull,' followed the rustler's denunciation, and the prisoner's last shred of hope vanished. In the moment of deadly peril, he was without a friend. Even the quaking tool he had used and abused was solely concerned with his own danger. In every grim face he read the fate awaiting him. The twisted, tortured features of Eddie dangled before his eyes, mocking him. An icy hand seemed to clutch his heart as he looked at Drait and the girl who had cheated him. Frenziedly he strove to think, and then, in a flash, hope was reborn, mad, fantastic, but possible. Towler was turning to the jury; he must act now.

`Judge, I would like a private word with Drait an' his wife,' he said, all arrogance gone from his voice. `It's vital--to them.'

The Judge nodded, and head oowed in an attitude of dejection, Cullin watched the approach of the woman he hungered for and the man he hated. Not until they were quite close did he look up.

`Well, Cullin, what is it?' Nick asked.

`This,' the rancher hissed. His right hand flashed to his shoulder, the gun cracked, and even as Drait was falling, the assassin's left hand swung the girl round, and the still-smoking muzzle of his weapon was pressed against her head.

`Freeze, all o' you,' he shouted. `A hurt to me, kills her.'

It was true; the hammer of his gun was held back only by a thumb, and her life depended on it remaining so. Many present could have shot him down, but it meant two lives. So they sat in their seats, petrified, helpless, while he strode from the dock, thrusting his captive before him.

Dazed by the swiftness of the tragedy, and kept conscious only by the biting grip of steel talons which seemed to penetrate to the bone, the girl moved forward. Cullin did not hurry--he knew he was safe, and a fiendish snarl of triumph distorted his lips. Savage, impotent men watched his progress to the door, which he forced the girl to open, and heard the gibing `Adios' as it slammed behind him, and the key turn.

For a moment they stared at one another, and then Sudden acted. Picking up a heavy chair, he hurled it at the nearest window; glass and framework vanished together. He leapt through, dashed to his horse, and flung himself into the saddle. Which way?

`He'll make for the Big C to get cash an' fresh horses,' he told himself.

He found the trail, a mere wagon-way, which after crossing a brush-dotted mile or so of plain, zigzagged through a procession of shallow wooded ravines and low ridges. It was from one of the latter that he got a glimpse of the killer. He had not waited to take a second horse, and the girl--who appeared to be unconscious--was slung across the saddlebow. Only for a moment

they were visible before entering a timbered tract, but the puncher's knowledge of horseflesh told him something. `He's got a good start, Nig, but that hoss is weakenin'.' He stroked the curving silken neck, and the black quickened its pace, eager to show this master who never ill-treated, what it could do. When next they sighted the fugitive he was appreciably nearer, and commencing a long, gradual incline. Sudden smiled mirthlessly.

`We've got him, of fella,' he said. `That rise'll bust his bronc wide open.'

He was right. The double burden and killing speed had already taken toll, and only incessant spurring kept the exhausted beast going. The climb proved the last straw, and the black began to gain rapidly. Cullin glanced back, and his right arm rose and fell furiously as the brute above flogged the nobler brute beneath. Somehow the gallant animal, dying on its feet, reached the crest and was lost to sight. Sudden was a scant fifty yards behind.

This distance covered, the ground dropped a little and then rose sharply, and here the trail swung off along a rather narrow shelf, with vertical cliff on one side, and a precipice on the other. An outflung natural buttress engaged Sudden's attention. His dismounted.

`He's got a gun,' he said. `Better "look afore we leap"--into sight.'

There was no trap. Cullin's horse had foundered, and lay on its side, breathing, but useless. The rancher was standing near the brink of the abyss, holding the drooping girl to his side. Sudden walked towards them stopping a dozen paces away.

`Well, Green, I still hold the high card,' he taunted. `Listen: I wanted this woman, so bad I was willin' to kill to get her. That dream's gone. I'm just usin' her. An' see, my gun's empty.' He pulled out the weapon, snapped the hammer six times, and thrust it behind his waist-belt, not without some difficulty.

`What's yore proposition?'

'I'll trade her life for mine. Give yore word to let me go unhurt an' I'll place her in safety.'

Sudden reflected a moment. He suspected a ruse, but could not divine it. In any case, if he got the girl away from that horrible chasm, he could take care of himself.

`It's a deal,' he said.

With every sense alert, he watched the rancher convoy his prisoner to the cliff wall, where she subsided listlessly. Then Cullin turned and walked away, his right arm swinging by his side. Sudden's eyes narrowed; the swing was lengthening, the hand going nearly waist-high, where the empty weapon hadbeen stowed. Tensed and ready, he stood, watching and waiting. Then it happened. Cullin had gone but a few steps when he whirled and fired, doubtless counting on a surprise. But Sudden had caught the beginning of the movement and his own gun was spouting flame at the same instant. He felt the scorch of the lead on his cheek, and saw the traitor stagger back under the impact of the heavy slug. His face drawn with pain and fraught with fear, the murderer tottered, fighting to regain his balance, only to lurch sideways, step on nothing, and with a strangling cry, vanish into the void.

The puncher pushed his hat back and wiped the clammy moisture from his brow. Not till then did he become aware of voices. Yorky, Pilch, and half a dozen others were beside him. `You ain't hurt, Jim?' the boy asked fearfully. `Gawd, you were quick.'

`Shore had to be,' Sudden replied. `It was a close call.' He explained the desperate trick Cullin had tried.

`Well, saves soilin' a rope,' Pilch said callously. `Though I wouldn't 'a' grudged it.'

The girl, ashen-faced and moving shakily, joined them, anxious for news of her husband. Only Yorky, who had started behind the others and caught them up, could tell her anything:

`He's hard hit, an' they're takin' him to Merker's, an' sendin' to Rideout for a doctor; Midway don't have none.'

With this she had to be content.

Chapter XXIII

Doctor Bolus - so he called himself--was middle-aged, and slight of frame, with a kindly face in which the eyes smiled. Why he chose to reside in this wild region nobody knew or cared; he was skilled, liked, and respected. The citizens gathered in Merker's bar to await his first report fell silent when they noted the gravity of his expression.

`It's a bad business, but he has a chance--a very slim one,' he announced. `Cannot be moved, so you can say farewell to your bedroom for some weeks, Merker.'

After a moment's thought, Merker said, `Not reflectin' nohow on yore ability, doc, I'm layin' you twenty dollars to one you don't save Nick.'

His eyes twinkling, Bolus accepted the wager, and the others on the same terms which followed. Merker, ousy making out a list, said:

`How far you prepared to go, doc? More o' the boys'll want in on this.'

The sky's the limit,' the little man smiled. `And I'm staying in Midway to win the money.'

`That's good to hear, sir,' the Judge said. `You'll be the town's guest, and anything your patient needs will be got.'

So it came to pass that Midway went about both business and pleasure on tiptoe, as it were. Every day men stepped softly into the saloon to read the latest bulletin, and for the first two weeks went away with disconsolate faces. To their queries the doctor had but one reply:

`I am doing all that is possible, and he has the most devoted nurse I ever met; she's just killing herself, and I'll have to speak to her.'

He did so, to be met with a stubborn refusal to leave the sickroom. He had his argument ready : `What's going to happen if your health breaks down?'

The possibility appalled her, and she capitulated on the condition that the doctor took her place, to which he readily agreed. Her first excursion brought astonishment. Every few yards men she had never seen stopped and shyly asked for news of the nester. This universal anxiety delighted her until an enquirer provided an apparent explanation.

`You just gotta pull him through, ma'am,' he said. `There's a lot o' dollars dependin' on it.'

She returned to the saloon seething with anger. Her crimson face told the doctor something had gone wrong.

The callous brutes !' she cried. `They are actually gambling on my husband's life.'

`You misjudge them,' Bolus returned quietly, and gave the facts. `So you see,' he concluded, `it is their way of offering me a fantastic fee to insure I will do my best. Do you know what happened this morning when I gave Merker a favourable report? Most of the wagers were doubled. You see, they want to lose.'

`I shall never understand the Westerner,' she said ruefully.

A day or so later Mary met Sudden, whom she had not seen since the tragedy, and asked a question : `Jim, how did you know we were married?'

`I didn't; it was just a hunch,' he replied.

`Was that the card they might not know of?'

`Yeah, but I wanted yu to play it,' he grinned.

She did not quite believe his ignorance--he had most discerning eyes, this Mister Green, and the twinkle in them wrought confusion in her cheeks. Perhaps this was why he changed the subject.`When am I goin' to see Nick?'

`Soon,' she promised.

But a week passed before the meeting came about, and Sudden received a shock. The nester, propped up by pillows, was a mere shadow of his former self. However, there was a smile on the gaunt, pale face.

`My, Jim, it's good to see you,' he said. `Me? I'm doin' fine. Tell me the news.'

`Ain't much. Quilt an' the rest of us are lookin' after the S P an' the Valley, Sturm an' his riders bein' plenty absent. Seale took a notion to travel. The Judge gave Camort ten years in the pen, but we had to sneak him out after dark to save his neck. Cullin? Oh, he fell over the cliff.'

`Yeah, that's what Mary told me, but she used more words,' Drait said drily. `Jim, I've been tryin' to figure out my debt to you.' Sudden started to rise. `Awright, cuss you, I'll be dumb. Who's takin' Stinker's place?'

`Bardoe.' Sheer surprise kept Nick silent. `He's a changed man, but still feared, an' I think he'll make good. Bein' peace-officer is no picnic; I've had some.' He smiled reminiscently as he recalled hectic months in a tough little town on the Mexican oorder, months of almost daily danger.

Nick was silent for some moments, and then, `Jim, how did you make Towler put Cullin in the dock?' He nodded sagely when he had heard the explanation. `Guessed you warn't an ornery cow-wrastler,' he said. `Well, havin' cleaned up I s'pose you'll be hittin' the trail soon?'

`Not till yo're in the saddle again, or-timer.'

`I'll be damn lonely in the Valley,' Nick said gloomily. `Time's more than through,' came a voice from the door.

Outside, Mary was waiting, anxious enquiry in her eyes. `He's lookin' better'n I expected,' Sudden promptly lied. `A mite depressed, mebbe. I guess it's on'y heart trouble.'

`Only?' she gasped in alarm, and then the dawning smile made his meaning clear. `Jim, you're a--dear,' she cried, and hurriedly retreated.

She found her patient lying back, eyes closed, face pale as the pillow on which it rested. He seemed dreadfully still, and her heart missed a beat. Had the visit been too much for him? Oppressed by the fear, she sank on her knees by the bedside, and spoke his name. Slowly the heavy lids lifted.

`Must 'a' dozed,' he muttered. Why, what's wrong.'

`Nothing--now,' she replied, as the colour drained back into her cheeks. `I was alarmed. I thought....' A shudder shook her.

`Would it 'a' mattered all that much?' he asked.

The barriers for her were down now. `I think--I would have died too,' she said huskily.

For long breathless seconds he lay silent, trying to realise the joy that was coming to him. Then, `If I tell you life can't give me a sweeter moment than this, Mary, you won't--laugh at me?'

Her head drooped. `So you knew?' she said shamedly.

`I suspicioned,' he smiled. `My dear, you were wastin' yore time; I reckon I loved you--unknowin'--right from the start. When I found out what you meant to me, I was scared to show it, in case. I couldn't blame you, after--'

A small hand closed his lips, and a passionate voice said, `You should have used your quirt; it might have brought a vindictive little fool to her senses. Oh, I hate myself when I remember. You were kind to me, and in return I've...'

`Saved my life--yeah, I've the doc's word for that--an' given me the greatest happiness I have ever known,' he finished tenderly. The past is done, the future to face, together, just the two of us.'

A rosy face burrowed into the hollow of his shoulder. He drew her closer and pressed his lips to the golden curls, as he whispered: `Girl, girl, but I'll be mighty good to you.'

================= *** ================= *** ================= *** ================= ***

About Sudden

James Green aka Sudden is a fictional character created by the author Oliver Strange and after his death carried on by Frederick H. Christian. The books are centred around a gunfighter in the American Wild West era, who is in search of two men who cheated his foster father. Jim the young man promises his dying father that he will find the two and take revenge. He gives the name James Green to himself and in time gets accused of a robbery himself and becomes an outlaw.

The books were first published around the late 1920s and the early 1930s. They featured vivid descriptions of the western American landscape, rare in an author at that time. These book have been out of print for a very long time, and are currently available for purchase only in paper format, after being owned by one of more people.

Oliver Strange wrote 10 Sudden books (in order of storyline, below)

Sudden--Outlawed (1935)

Sudden (1933)

Sudden--Gold Seeker (1937)

Sudden Rides Again (1938)

Sudden Makes War (1942)

Sudden Takes the Trail (1940)

Sudden Plays a Hand (1950)

The Marshal of Lawless (1933)

The Range Robbers (1930)

The Law o' the Lariat (1931)