Sudden Rides Again

"He moves like a cougar," he murmured. "Wonder what he's done? Doesn't look a desperate character, but ..." The gravel crunched as the foreman came hurrying up. "Anything to report, Steve?"

"Betcha life," Lagley replied triumphantly. "That fella vu took on, who calls hisself Green, dropped this. Might interest yu."

The rancher read the damning document slowly. "The descriptions arc certainly similar, but that may be just a coincidence," he said.

"What's he totin' it around for, then?"

"As a curiosity, perhaps. If it really concerned himself, I imagine he would have destroyed it."

"Oh, these killers have their pride," Lagley fleered. "As for it bein' him, there ain't no doubt; Turvey was in Texas 'bout the time this hombre was raisin' hell there, an' had to skip 'cause things got too lively. No, he never seen him, but afriend o' his was rubbed out tryin' to stop this Sudden when he made a getaway from San Antonio, with a sheriff's posse behind him."

Keith deliberated. This was the tale he had been warned might come to him. The new hand had discovered his loss and acted promptly; that was the kind of man he wanted. "What do you suppose brought him here?" was his question.

"Headed for Hell City, I'd say," the foreman replied. "Then he runs into trouble with Roden an' figures it ain't goin' to make him over-welcome there, so when yu push a job at him he naturally jumps at it."

"Admirably reasoned."

"An' yu can add that Mister Satan would be damn glad to put on his pay-roll a fella already on yourn."

-

"That seems possible."

"Shore as death," the other rejoined. "Point is, what yu goin' to do? Me, I'd boot him off'n the ranch."

"Having first obtained his permission, of course," the Colonel said drily. "No, if he's the man you claim, he's dangerous, and it would be poor policy to present him to the enemy. Here, we can keep an eye on his activities. Do the men know?"

"I ain't told nobody, but Turvey may have talked."

"If so, it can't be helped. Give Green to understand that his past doesn't matter, and especially, that I am ignorant of it. Keep him tied to Homer--I think that lad is loyal, and we shall have news of any treachery."

"Well, yo're the boss, but it's takin' a devil of a risk," Lagley grimaced.

For some time after the foreman had departed, Keith sat in the gathering gloom, chewing at the butt of his cigar, thinking the situation over. He could not doubt what he had heard, for Green himself had admitted that the tale would be true. The puzzling point was the presence of a notorlous outlaw, presumably fleeing from justice, in that part of the country, if it were not to seek sanctuary in Hell City. Texas was a long way off, but other offences might have been committed since, perhaps in Arizona, necessitating a hiding-place.

"It certainly seems that Steve must be right," he mused aloud. "All the same, I don't believe it."

"Don't believe what, yu ol' slave-owner?" boomed a big voice from a few yards distant. "That the North beat the South? Well, they did; I was there, an' seen it."

Keith stood up. "Hello, Martin, I hear you've been rustling some of my cows," he retaliated. "Come right in."

"Druv over a-purpose to pay yu for 'em."

"Why?" the Double K man snorted. "You and your damned Yankee Government didn't mind stealing my niggers, so--"

A slim form slipped from the lighted window which led on to the verandah. "If you two are going to fight the Civil War all over again, supper will be ruined," Joan said. "Good evening, Mister Merry; I fancied I recognized your voice."

"Yu know darned well there ain't another like it in Arizony," the visitor responded, and shook a warning finger at her. "Don't yu go gettin' sarcastic--one in yore family is a-plenty. An' yu needn't to `mister' me neither, just because yu got a good-lookin' new rider; he ain't half the man I am, anyways."

"Just about, I should guess," she dimpled, with a calculating glance at the other's squat bulk, "but he's more--distributed."

"Yu sassy young chipmunk--"

The voice of the host intervened. "Stop wrangling, you--infants; I'm hungry. And Joan, you'd better hear what I have just learned before you decide to fall in love with Green."

"I haven't the remotest intention of doing so," she laughed. "It would break Martin's heart."

"Shore would," the fat man agreed. "I'd have to shoot him up, an' I'm admittin' that's a task I wouldn't fancy."

"You'll fancy it less presently," Keith said sardonically. During the meal, he told his news. The Twin Diamond owner nodded his head, as though not surprised.

"A gunman, huh?" he commented. "Guessed he warn't just an ornery cow-punch. Sudden! Seem to have heard of him some time, but ... What arc yu goin' to do, Ken?"

"Watch him," the rancher replied, "an' if he's straight, use him to clean up that den of infamy in the hills." Merry looked at the girl, whose face was now pale; he knew of what she was thinking. His own expression belied his name.

"A clean-up means on'y one thing to such a man," he stated. "Does he know about--Jeff?"

Keith's aristocratic features might have been carved in white marble. "Yes," he said, in a cold, passionless tone which effectually closed the subject.

In the bunkhouse, Sudden soon sensed an air of restraint in regard to himself. He caught some of the outfit eyeing him furtively, and, while no one deliberately avoided him, even the men he knew best appeared to be afflicted with a feeling of awkwardness utterly foreign to their care-free souls. Evidently the purloiner of the placard had lost no time in making use of it. Frosty was not there, having gone to Dugout, and Sudden speculated, rather bitterly, whether the new friendship would stand the strain. Presently the foreman threw back the door and called him outside.

"They figure I'm goin' to be fired," he reflected.

Lagley went to the point at once. "The 01' Man sent for me," he began. "Someone has told him that yo're a Texas outlaw named Quick, no, that ain't it--Sudden--knowed it was somethin' to do with speed. He's mighty sore, said for me to give yu yore time, pronto."

The darkness hid the cowboy's smile; he knew the man was lying, and had his answer ready. In an aggrieved tone, he said: "So that's his sort? All right, I'll take the trail straight away; Black Sam'll put me up."

This, as he had expected, was not to Lagley's liking. "Hold on," he cried. "Hell, they got yu named right. I spoke up for yu--told Ken he was doin' a damn-fool thing, seein' yo're the kind o' fella we can use. He give in--usually does, when I stand up to him," he concluded boastfully.

"Why, that's mighty good o' yu, Steve. Who put him wise?"

"I dunno; all he said was that one o' the boys reckernized yu, an' that don't tell much--we git 'em from all over."

Sudden nodded. "I'm obliged to yu. I warn't honin' to travel; this is a good ranch."

"It would be a better one if young Jeff was in charge," the foreman said meaningly. "Some of us would like to see it. Keith has changed a lot of late; goin' loco, I'd say. If anythin' happened to him, well, I don't fancy bein' bossed by a gal."

"Wouldn't suit me neither," Sudden replied. "Yu figure the boy ain't such a hard case, huh?"

"Oh, he's tough all right, an' yu can't wonder. But he's a swell leader an'--generous. I ain't askin' yu to take my word; go see for yoreself."

The puncher laughed grimly. "I guess I wouldn't be very popular in Hell City."

"That needn't to worry yu. If yo're there to see him, nobody will dare cock an eye at yu; he's got the whole b'ilin' waitin' on his word."

"Yu seem to know him."

"Know him?" Lagley repeated. "Shore I do, since he was a pup; worked with him on the range, an' hope to again. Now, see here, Green, I didn't cotton to yu right off--mebbe it was that trick yu played when we first met, but a fella's a fool if he can't change his mind for good reason. I guess we understand one another better now. Think over what I've said, an' if yu wanta see Satan, I can fix it. Yu sabe?"

Sudden did. He had learned what he wanted--that the foreman was a traitor, willing to double-cross his employer, and that he and others of the outfit were already planning to put the son in the father's place. The idea of Lagley interceding with Keith on his behalf amused him; either he was making the best of what he regarded as a bad job, or setting a trap for a man he did not like.

"An' that man is goin' to walk right into it," he told himself. "But not with his eyes shut, Mister Steve."

When he returned to the bunkhouse, he found the atmosphere altered, evidently the foreman had been talking. Genial looks greeted him from all save one--Turvey's warped, malignant mind retained its rancour despite the instructions he had received.

"I'm told yu come from Texas, Green," he said, in his high-pitched, reedy voice. "A fine country."

"Shore is," Sudden replied, and waited.

"Over-run with sheriffs, though--fair lousy with 'em," the other went on.

Sudden smiled sweetly. "Well now, I was wonderin' why yu didn't stay."

A ripple of laughter proclaimed that he had scored and Turvey's expression was not pretty.

"Who told yu I ever was there?" he grated.

"Why, yu seemed to know the place," Sudden retorted, and shot a shaft at a venture, "Didn't meet up with Rogue's Riders, I s'pose?"

He saw the man's eyes flicker, but the denial came promptly. "Never heard of 'em," and the sneer, "Friends o' yourn?"

"I knew Rogue," was the quiet reply. "He was as crooked as they make 'em, but he played straight with those who trusted him. I've met worse men, an' how that fella could use a six-gun!"

Turvey laughed scornfully. "Rogue shoot?" he jeered. "Why, he couldn't hit a barn 'less he was inside it."

He saw the snare into which he had stumbled when Sudden said, "I expect yu !mowed him better than I did."

"I was told that--I never seen the man," he protested.

"Yu said yu hadn't heard of him," Lazy pointed out. Turvey scowled, but showed no desire to continue an argument in which he had very obviously been worsted.

For some time that night Sudden lay awake, trying to place this man who had apparently played a part in a page of his own past, but without success; after all, he had not seen all the members of Rogue's gang of bandits.

Chapter X

In the morning, on the pretence that he needed another shirt, Sudden again searched his belongings, but the telltale notice was not there. Either the thief had destroyed, or could find another use for it. The circumstance did not worry him; he had a shrewd suspicion it would be put to the purpose he had intended. On his way to the corral, the rancher stopped him.

"You and Homer get along all right?" he asked. "Good, I've told Steve you are to work together."

"I'm thankin' yu," the puncher replied.

As he threw the saddle on Nigger, and tightened the cinches, he was puzzling over Keith's attitude, unburdening himself to his four-footed friend.

"Either Steve was lyin' complete, or the 01 Man is playin' ignorant, Nig," he muttered. "The on'y certain thing is they ain't trustin' me; Frosty is to keep cases. Wonder where the chucklehead has got to?"

"Stick 'em up !" hissed a low voice, and something hard was jammed in the small of his back.

Sudden froze for an instant, and then, with lightning speed, whirled on the balls of his feet and flung himself on the man who had cat-footed up behind him. They went to the ground together, Sudden on top, but at once he was erect again, brushing the dust from his clothes.

"yu perishin' idjut," he said. "I might 'a' broke yore fool neck."

Frosty rose also, filled his depleted lungs, and spoke feelingly. "Namin' yu `Sudden' was shorely an inspiration."

"So yu know?"

"All of us knows--Turvey, for once, was plenty chatter-some."

"Was it him put Keith wise?"

"Dunno, but if he did, why ain't yu been sent packin'?"

"Mebbe they'd rather have me here than in Hell City."

"Which would be sound reasonin'. Let's go."

For several miles nothing was said, but Sudden was conscious that his companion was covertly observing him. Presently the boy blurted out: "Jim, I just can't believe it; vu don't seem that sort o' man."

Sudden divined his thoughts. To be a famous gunman was one thing, and murder for money was another. Moved by an impulse he did not attempt to analyse he told the story of his notorious nickname.' Charged with a crime of which he :new nothing, forced to fight to free his neck from the noose, hunted like a beast of prey and driven to take refuge with the type of outcast the world had made him. Baldly, briefly, the f acts were stated.

"I ain't squealin'--a man has to play the cyards he gets," he said in conclusion, "but I reckoned yu'd a right to be told, case yu--"

"Forget it," Frosty said gruffly. "I'm proud to know yu. I figure yu can't choose yore friends--either yu like a fella or vu don't, that's all there is to it. Luck has played yu some scurvy tricks, Jim. Can I tell the boys?"

"No, keep it behind yore teeth--I ain't carin' what the others think--an' there's another reason to that. I'm told that some o' the outfit would like to see Jeff ownin' the ranch. Yu one of'em?"

Frosty shook his head. "Ken Keith hired me, an' that goes for most of us," he said. "Mebbe the 01' Man's rasp of a ongue has roughed up a few o' the older men."

Soon afterwards they separated, riding in opposite directions. Sudden had said nothing of the foreman's proposal. He believed that Homer could be trusted, but he was playing in a desperate game and dared not add to the risks. Also, he wanted to learn if he was watched. So he kept under cover, weaving his way through thickets of tall grass, thorn and mesquite.

Presently the clink of iron against stone sounded faintly. Forcing his mount further into the undergrowth, he waited, a bitter sneer on his lips; his "friend" was spying upon him. To his amazement, however, the rider who came into view was Lagley, sitting slackly in his saddle, and with no attempt at concealment. He was apparently heading for Coyote Canyon, and, after a mental apology to Frosty, Sudden decided to follow.

"Fly at it, Steve," he grinned. "I never did like advertisin' myself"

As he had surmised, the foreman turned into the canyon and proceeded along it at a leisurely pace. Sudden, at a safe distance in the rear, kept him in sight. At the end of the gully the ground sloped up to a little forest of dwarf pines and continued to rise until a scrub-covered level was reached. Here the cowboy lost his quarry but the whinny of a horse from a black blob of brush told him that Lagley could not be far away Leaving Nigger, he circled the spot and found a faint trail.

Stepping lightly as an Indian, he moved slowly forward until he reached a small cleared space at one side of which the foreman's pony was tied to a shrub. The dim light which filtered through the foliage overhead enabled him to see that Lagley was not there, and an opening in the ground suggested the reason. Knotted round a near-by tree was a lariat, the end of which vanished in the hole. Sudden peered down but could see nothing but a kind of cave, only barely visible. It was but a drop of a dozen feet, and the rope made descent simple.

He now found himself in a large, irregularly shaped room, - !lowed out of the living rock. The uneven floor was littered rubble and at one side the wall was pierced by a tunnel orifice through which came a diffused daylight. Searching around, he discovered another opening, with a rude ladder leading to a lower chamber. He went down, to find it similar in every respect to the one he had left, even to a second ladder. He was about to descend this when an indistinct mutter of voices warned him that it might not be wise. Instead, he crawled along the tunnel-like opening and peeped out. Below was a kind of street, with rock walls on both sides pitted with holes identical with the one he was using. On the ground level these were larger, and in some cases, had rough doors fitted to them. Even as he watched, the foreman emerged, crossed the street, and disappeared through one on the far side; he had the familiar red badge pinned on his breast.

Having seen enough, Sudden returned to where he had left his horse. This must be Hell City, and he had guessed Lagley's errand correctly; the stolen placard would shortly be in the possession of the chief of this outlaw community. Since he had brought it with that object, he was well content. The more so as he had lighted upon what seemed to be a private means of entering or leaving the place; no doubt :here was a man on guard below, but ... The puncher was not one to ford a river before he came to it.

The Double K foreman found the man he had come to see alone, save for the loutish attendant hovering in the background. The red mask made the stony eyes paler than ever; they always gave Lagley an uncomfortable feeling. The boy he used to know had eyes of the same colour, but they werealive, mirthful, unless he was angered. Lae bandit nodded negligently to a seat.

"What brings you?" he enquired.

"Yore business, o' course," the visitor replied. "Have a good look at that."

Satan unfolded the stolen placard and read it. "Well, are you suggesting I should send to Texas for him? Too much trouble, my friend, Besides, he'll drift in, sooner or later."

"Make it sooner," Lagley said. "He's here a'ready."

The other straightened in his seat. "And I was not told?" he cried. "By Christmas, I'll--"

"Hold yore hosses, Jeff; nobody knows but me. He calls hisself Green, an' he's ridin' for--us."

"That fellow?" Satan said coolly. "Well?"

"He's useful--look how he handled Scar's crew, an' it was him an' Homer busted up that brandin' play. The 01' Man is stuck on him, which is another reason for ropin' him in."

"Have you sounded him?"

"Kind of," Lagley replied. "He didn't jump at it--ain't the sort--but I figure yu could fix him."

"What's he done to you?"

Under the scrutiny of those staring eyes the foreman shifted uncomfortably; he had the feeling that his inmost thoughts were being dragged out.

"I got nothin' agin him," he protested.

"He may come to see me--if he has the nerve."

Lagley essayed a grin. "That'll fetch him, but he's gotta be handled with gloves--he ain't no common roughneck."

"I shall deal with him as I think fit," came the snub. "By the way, I want more three-year-olds; arrange that some are --available." He threw some bills on the table. "There's your pay; see that you continue to earn it."

The foreman picked up the money and would have given something for the courage to fling it in the face of the master who treated him so cavalierly, but self-interest and a desire to we both forbade it. Silver, with a smirk which uncovered his usks, showed him out, and then returned with his great shoulders shaking.

"What's amusing you, Silver?" the masked man asked. "They's all the same, Chief," rumbled the deep voice. 'Come in, steppin' high, with their heads up, an' slinks out ails tucked in. Never seen the fella could out-face you. Dunno how you do it."

The thin lips curved in a gratified smile. "The ability to rule is born in a man," Satan said. "I have the gift. Tomorrow, you shall see me tame this gunfighter."

But the morrow brought no Sudden to Hell City. The foreman delivered the message, not quite in the condescending form in which it had been given--"He'll be glad to meetcha," was how he put it--and Sudden had received it omewhat nonchalantly.

"I'll chew it over. Mebbe drop in one day."

"Don't leave it too long," Lagley warned. "He ain't the patient kind."

He got a look he could not put a meaning to. "I'm a bit short on patience myself," the puncher replied. "Also, I ain't kow-towin' to any road-agent who's afeard to show his face."

"Wait till yu see him; yu'll talk different."

"P'raps, but first he's gotta wait till he sees me," Sudden retorted. "I'll choose my own time."

So it came about that several days passed before the black horse carried him along the narrow causeway which wound through the foothills, and, rising with increasing steepness, led to the ponderous portal of Hell City. Approaching it, one could not help being struck by the natural strength of its position. Many centuries back, the place must have been a pass through the crest of a high plateau, but some mighty convulsion had torn away the cliff on the right, leaving a mereshell of rock with a precipitous face mounting abruptly from the valley. This shell formed one side of the bandit stronghold.

Pacing slowly along, Sudden's eyes were busy, but he did not halt until he reached the gate. It opened at once, to disclose a burly-looking ruffian, holding a rifle levelled from the hip. The visitor knew that his approach must have been observed; he had already decided upon his attitude.

"Are you Sudden?" the man asked.

"Folks have found me all that," was the reply.

"I've had word to let you pass, but yo're after yore time; the Chief don't like to be kept waitin'."

"Is that so? Well, I don't like it neither, an' yo're keepin' both of us waitin'," Sudden reminded, adding sharply, "I'll have to tell him...."

With a look of alarm, the custodian fell back, his bluster gone. "No call to do that, stranger."

His eyes followed the black as it stepped unhurriedly along the street; the rider appeared to have forgotten his haste. "A killer, shore enough," he muttered. "Had me covered, too, damn him." He slammed the gate and then chuckled. "The Chief'll take the starch out'n him, good an' plenty."

The puncher paced on until he reached the point where he had seen Lagley vanish, and then pulled up beside a group of three men, slouch-hatted, unshaven, heavily armed, who surveyed him with insolent hostility.

"Where's yore boss hang out?" he asked brusquely.

All three scowled, but one jerked a thumb over his shoulder. They watched him dismount and trail the reins, their greedy eyes on the horse. He spoke again.

"Keep away from him or he'll kill yu, an' if he don't, I will."

The faces of the men he warned grew darker, and one of them growled, "Who the devil are you to give us orders?"

"My name is `Sudden,' " the puncher rasped. "Put yore paws up, all o' vu, pronto !"

As he spat out the last word his own hands came up, a gun in each. Utterly taken by surprise, the ruffians dared not disobey; the jutting jaw and icy narrowed eyes were not those of a bluffer.

"Run, yu rats," came the harsh command, and a bullet tore the heel from the boot of the last to start.

The gunman waited until they had dived, like the vermin to which he had compared them, into one of the openings, and then hammered loudly on the door with the butt of a gun. It was opened immediately by Silver, who beckoned him in. The masked man was lolling in a big chair, reading, and took no notice when they entered. The puncher seated himself, pushed his hat back, and began to roll a cigarette. Presently the book was thrown aside.

"You are `Sudden'?"

"Men call me that," the cowboy replied. "I s'pose yo're `Satan'?"

"That's what I call myself. you have taken your time."

"Why should I come a-runnin' when yu whistle?" Sudden said rudely. "I ain't nobody's dawg."

The expressionless eyes did not alter, but he saw the mouth harden; the blow had gone home.

"I heard a shot outside. What happened?"

"Three o' yore scum got impudent; I had to educate 'em some."

"Was it to find me you came to Arizona?"

"Never heard o' yu till I got to Dugout--robber bands ain't no novelty in the West," Sudden said carelessly. "I was just travellin'--for my health."

A flash of anger shone in the dull eyes but was gone in an instant. This truculent bully must be given a lesson, the masked man decided.

"I have something to show you," he announced. "When you have seen it, we will continued our conversation."

At a sign, Silver dragged aside a rug and raised a trapdoor, disclosing a ladder. He went down, and Satan motioned his guest to follow. Little as he appreciated the courtesy, the puncher--conscious that he was between the two fires--could not but comply. A moment, and the third man had joined them. The chamber they were now in was a counterpart of the one they had left, save that it was unfurnished. Daylight, entering by a hole on one side, revealed only what Sudden took to be a pile of rags, until a deep groan apprised him that they covered a human form.

"Still alive," the masked man said, and there was a horrible satisfaction in his tone. "Good!"

"What's he done?" the visitor asked.

"you don't know the Governor of Arizona, I expect?" Satan replied, watching him keenly.

Sudden laughed. "Sheriffs is my limit thataway, so far."

"The Governor is good enough to take an interest in me," the hard voice went on. "He has already sent two spies. The first went back ready for burial, and this one will be returned in the same way when I have finished with him. Lagley said you could shoot. I am about to test your skill. Lift him, Silver."

The dwarf raised the supine form as though it had been that of an infant, and the puncher needed all his iron control to suppress a cry of horror. Never had he seen a more dreadful sight. Through the tattered fragments of clothing the shrivelled frame of the poor wretch gleamed like the bleached bones of a skeleton, the limbs swinging loosely, as if tied on with string. Long, matted white hair and beard draped a pallid, blood-drained face, with sunken cheeks, glazed eyes, and drooling lips.

Sudden schooled his features to an expression of callous indifference; he had found Dolver--too late; the man was dying; he might live for days, enduring unspeakable agony, but there was no hope. He fought an impulse to shoot down the devil who now stood, gloating over his handiwork, but it was Keith's son, and to slay the leader only would but make way for another. Even if he got out of Hell City alive--which was doubtful--his work would be still to do. In a voice he hardly recognized, he asked:

"What's wrong with his arms an' legs?"

"Broken at the knees and elbows--it saves the trouble of bonds," the monster explained. "How I wish the Governor could see him."

He gave an order and Silver, supporting his burden easily with his left arm, gripped the lolling head with his enormous other paw and held it upright, as in a vice.

"you have heard of dying by inches," Satan said coolly. "This man is dying by fractions of an inch. You see that groove extending from the forehead back over the scalp? Well, every day I deepen it the smallest shade by a bullet. Eventually, I shall touch the brain, and then ..."

Into the piteous eyes of the prisoner, near blind with pain, came a spark of life, and from the mumbling lips a weak wail. "For God's sake, kill me."

The masked man laughed hideously. "Always the same prayer," he gibed, and finished with a blasphemy.

Stepping back several paces, he drew a pistol, aimed and fired. The shot drew a despairing moan from the victim, and Sudden could see the faintest trickle of blood from the groove. The marksman looked at him triumphantly.

"That's shooting, my gun-slinging friend," he sneered.

The puncher did not appear impressed. "Fair," he admitted. "But if that hombre was fit an' had a forty-five in his fist ..."

"Can you equal it?""Shore, firin' at a fixed mark is dead easy."

"Prove it," the other snarled.

Sudden shrugged; this was the invitation for which he had been angling. Drawing one of his guns, he raised it slowly, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet struck an inch below the groove and Dolver's head slipped from the dwarf's grasp and fell forward. For one second, the bandit could not believe what he saw, and then: "you clumsy fool, you've killed him," he cried, almost beside himself with rage. "I've a mind to..."

Apparently the visitor was too chagrined to resent either the epithet or the threat.

"Which I'm allowin' it was a poor shot," he said dejectedly. "Allus do forget that this gun throws a mite low. yu certainly can shoot, mister."

The humility and flattery restored the masked man to his normal state of imperturbability. "My followers call me `Chief,' " he pointed out.

"Suits me, but I ain't one of 'em yet. Let's get out'n here an' talk it over--corpses ain't the best o' company."

Leaving the man whom Sudden, at the risk of his own life, had mercifully released from horrible torment, lying on the floor of his prison, they returned to the upper room.

"What yu want I should do?" the puncher asked. "Rustle some cows for yu?"

Satan looked at him. Was the fellow really as stupid as he seemed to be--a mere creature of brawn without brain? Even so, he might be useful.

"The rustling is a small matter, done to annoy Keith," he explained. "I want to make him desperate, force him to fight, and then--I'll kill him."

The last three words were spoken with incredible ferocity, hissed through shut teeth.

"It is said he's yore father," Sudden reminded.

"No, he disowned me, said I wasn't fit to bear his name, and that he wished never to see my face again. Well, I have acquired another name and concealed my face, but, by Christmas, he shan't rob me of my inheritance. Now do you understand?"

"Shore," was the reply. "It's a good range."

This fatuous answer produced a further probing regard, but the speaker's features were wooden. The bandit nodded.

"Since we understand one another, get back to it," he said. "Lagley will give you my orders. Remember, if you play false, I shall know, and--you have seen how I deal with those who offend me."

The visitor made an evident effort to regain his assurance. "Threats don't scare me none whatever," he boasted. "Keep 'em for those they may. So long."

With an air of insolent bravado, he swung from the room, but it was a pleasure to see the sky again. His horse welcomed him with a whinny, and mounting, he rode slowly to the gate. His gloomy expression was misunderstood by the keeper.

"Ain't feelin' so fresh, huh?" he commented, but not until the rider was out of hearing. "Thought he'd larn you." When he was well beyond the range of prying eyes, Sudden straightened up in his saddle. His face was drawn and set with resolve. He had been driven to shoot the man he had come to save, just as he would have put out of its misery a suffering beast, and it hurt.

"If ever I'm in a like case, I hope someone will act the same," he muttered, and then, "I had to do it."

But the devil who had made such a deed necessary must pay, and in full.

Chapter XI

Joan Keith reined in her pony, leaned back in the saddle, and drew a long breath of profound satisfaction. She loved this untamed land, with its sandy scrub-dotted wastes, fragrant pine-woods, gloomy gorges, and inhospitable hills. Out of an unclouded vault above, the sun flung its fire relentlessly, but the night would bring a gracious coolness. The aromatic scent of the sage stung her nostrils. Behind stretched an undulating plain, the short brown grass of which fattened the Double K herds, and in front, a welter of low, broken ridges rising step by step to pinnacled grey peaks. It was upon these that her gaze rested longest. Among them--just where, she did not know--lay Hell City, and her eyes grew misty as she thought of the wayward boy who was wrecking his life there. Not his only, but her own, though this was something she fought not to admit, even to herself.

"Yes, it's a great pity, but when old men are tyrannical ..." The voice, familiar, but with a harsh intonation that was strange, startled her, and set her pony rearing. Her capable hands soon brought it under control and she turned to face the intruder, who had stolen up behind her, the sandy soil deadening the footfalls of his mount. Her face flushed and then paled as she saw the red mask beneath the high-crowned Stetson. Dumbly she noted the dandified cowboy rig, the silver spurs, and lavishly decorated saddle on the fine black he bestrode.

"You could always ride, Joan," he went on, and, reading her thought, "Yes, a good horse, Arab and mustang speed and stamina. I call him `Pluto'--rather appropriate, I fancy."

Below the pulled-down brim of the big hat she could see the pale eyes appraising her with cold curiosity. The sneeringly polite manner jarred on her, and she remained silent.

"You don't seem very glad to see me, yet we were good friends once," he said.

"Did you expect I would be?" she cried, stirred to anger and speech by the reference to earlier and happier days. "You are not the man I knew; you have changed--horribly."

"And you too have changed--charmingly," he smiled. "You were a pretty girl; now, you are a beautiful woman. By Christmas, it must be getting on for two years since I saw you. We must meet more often."

She shook her head. "Impossible, unless you give up this hideous masquerade and abandon the dreadful life you are leading," she said. "Won't you do it, Jeff? Your father--"

"Hates me, and would hound down and hang me if he had the power," he broke in fiercely. "Within the past few weeks he has hired a noted killer from Texas to help him accomplish that very thing. No, like Napoleon, I am a Man of Destiny. I must follow my fate, even--"

"If it leads to the gallows," she finished.

"Yes, even so, but it will not. The leaden-witted fools round here regard me as the chief of a band of criminals, hiding under a fantastic name, ready to rob for mere gain. Bah ! I care little for gold, but a great deal for the power it can give me. You have said I am changed, Joan. you are right; I have found myself; I have ambition."

"A poor one--to be an infamous outlaw."

"That is simply a stepping-stone to greater things. When I am the largest landowner in northern Arizona the past will be forgotten; the world forgives all to the successful."

"Such dreams are madness. The Government--"

"Has far too much on hand to worry about the West for years. When it does, I shall be established and--respectable. Some of our biggest cattlemen started as rustlers and then stole the land they now occupy. I shall begin with the Double K, which is mine by right."

"At present it belongs to Kenneth Keith, and he is neither old nor ailing," she reminded.

The thin lips under the mask parted slightly. " `In the midst of life ...' " he quoted. "He may--meet with--an accident."

There was no mistaking the sinister insinuation and the girl's face blanched. "Your own father!" she exclaimed, horror-struck.

"My own father," he repeated mockingly, "who told me I was no son of his, and desires nothing so much as my death."

"I do not believe it."

"It is true; I have a means of knowing."

"You trust your spies?" she asked scornfully.

"I trust no one," he told her. "My knowledge comes from myself; ignorant folk call it witchcraft, black magic, or the like; actually it is a gift of divination. It enabled me to be sure of your presence here this morning."

"Impossible ! I did not decide to come this way until after I had set out."

"Nevertheless, I knew, and so came to meet you. I wanted to see you because, changed as I am in many ways, one thing remains unaltered--my feeling for you. There has never been anyone else."

"Rumour tells a different tale," she said coldly.

"And rumour--as usual--lies. I saved a woman from imprisonment, but she is nothing to me. I cared for you, Joan, and if that domineering old autocrat--"

"You shall not speak of him so,"' she cried heatedly.

"Incredible!" he murmured. "Why, you are not even of his blood."

"He has been a father to me, and I love him as a daughter," she said warmly, and then, "Jeff, I think I hate you."

For a long moment the man gazed at her, noting the tanned, flushed cheeks, the firm, ripe lips, and the curling tendrils of golden hair trembling in the light breeze. Desire glowed for an instant in his stony eyes.

"You think so, but it is not the case," he replied. "When Keith gave me the air, you had an affection for me."

"Which, if indeed it ever existed, you have effectually slain," she said passionately.

"No, it is dormant maybe, but one kiss from me will bring it to life."

His effrontery infuriated her. "Never," she stormed. "You, a would-be parricide ..."

She turned to go, but he was too quick. Ere she could guess his intention, a touch of the spurs sent his horse close to her own and he had gripped her by the wrist and waist.

"Don't struggle, Joan," he panted, his voice thick with passion. "You are mine. One day we will reign together at the Double K, my lovely queen."

Frantically she strove to free herself but without avail. The red mask was before her eyes, the avid lips beneath it seeking her own. She wrenched her head aside and struck with her loose hand. The blow drew an oath from her assailant.

"Damn you," he gritted. "I'll--"

"Let the lady go, right now, if yu wanta live," a steely voice finished.

With a start of surprise, the masked man released his captive and swung round to face the speaker, a cowboy on a black horse. He was spinning a gun by the trigger-guard and appeared to be deeply interested in the operation.

"Who the hell told you to interfere?" Satan exploded.

The cowboy looked at him. "I don't need tellin' to protect a woman from insult," he said.

"There was no question of that," the other snapped. "We are old friends, aren't we, Joan?"

The girl ignored him. "I was very pleased to see you, Green," she said, in a still shaky voice.

"Better head for the ranch, ma'am; I'll take care this hombre don't pester yu no more," Sudden advised. "Yu didn't oughta use this part o' the range--too many varmints about."

"Yes," she agreed, and without a glance at the masked man, rode away.

No sooner was she out of hearing than Satan turned furiously upon the interloper, who was still playing with his pistol.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asked. "Are you working for me or not?"

"Shore I am," the puncher returned easily. "I've just done yu a service. See here, I'm ridin' for Keith. How long d'yu s'pose I'd be doin' that if I stood by when his daughter was needin' help?"

"She didn't see you."

"She did; I was right close before I recognized yu."

"I don't allow people I pay to correct me, even if I'm wrong."

"Then yu can call the deal off--I ain't riskin' my neck for a fool," Sudden said bluntly. "Yu were tryin' to do somethin' no decent girl would ever forgive. Miss Keith is a lady, not a dance-hall dame." He returned the glare in the sated eyes. "If yu an' me are to tread the same trail there's one thing yu gotta keep in mind, that I ain't one o' the gaol-sweepin's yu got herded up in Hell City."

The bandit did not reply at once. He knew that the cowboy was right--he had behaved unwisely, to say the least of it.

The girl's loveliness had shattered the shield of icy indifference behind which he was wont to hide. This saturnine gunman had saved him from committing an irretrievable blunder, and though he felt no gratitude, he did not wish to lose him. So, when he spoke again, the anger had gone.

"It is true. I acted like a half-wit, but I had not seen Joan for a long time and her beauty swept me off my feet. I am sorry." He laughed shortly. "Rescuing damsels in distress seems to be a habit of yours. Miss Dalroy--"

"She told yu?"

"There was no need; I saw it all, though I was in Hell City at the time." He read the other's expression, and added, "You don't believe there are men who see things their fellows cannot?"

"I've met 'em; it was allus a case of too much tangle-foot."

Satan shrugged. "I can't convince you, of course, but I venture to predict that Joan will beg you not to mention her meeting with me. Adios, my friend; it may be I have misjudged you; we shall yet do things to our mutual advantage."

He waved a hand, spurred his mount, and was soon lost in the vegetation which clothed the lower slopes of the hills. The cowboy spat in disgust.

"Play-actor, but a damn dangerous one," he muttered. "Friend, huh? I'd sooner tie up with a rattlesnake. Oughta rubbed him out, but I'm bettin' the girl still thinks of him as he used to be, which ain't goin' to help me any."

Confirmation of this view came as he approached the ranch that evening and saw Joan herself riding towards him. She turned her horse when they met.

"I want to thank you for--this morning," she began. "What happened?"

Sudden saw her anxiety, and smiled. "Why, just nothin'a-tall," he replied. "I told that hombre he'd find the hills more healthy, an' he drifted."

Her relief was obvious. "This is the second service you have done me," she said, "and I am going to ask a third: will you please keep silent about this unfortunate affair? Knowledge of it would only embitter my father still more, and might drive him to some desperate reprisal."

"Anythin' yu say, goes, ma'am," the cowboy said quietly. "If I hadn't guessed who he was ..."

She smiled her gratitude. "I can't understand," she confided. "He was always wild, impetuous, but never mean or dishonourable. He seemed older too, and almost--inhuman."

"Broodin' over an injustice ages an' sours a man plenty fast," he told her, and--not knowing his own story--she was surprised at the venom in his voice. Then he added something he did not in the least believe, "Mebbe he ain't so bad as folks figure--I've knowed such cases."

The words made her think. Was he himself one of the cases he had "knowed"? She could not decide, but it seemed difficult to credit that this grave young man, whose rare smile transformed his face into that of a boy, could be a notorious killer. Perhaps he had only said it to comfort her. Impulsively she held out her hand.

"Thank you again," she said, and spurred her pony.

Sudden's eyes followed her. "Nig, there's fools yu couldn't drag into heaven at the end of a rope," he told his horse.

Chapter XII

Kenneth Keith looked up as the latest addition to his outfit stepped on to the verandah. A week had passed since he learned of the cowboy's sinister history, and nothing had happened to change his first impression.

"I'd like to be foot-loose for a day or so, seh," Sudden said. "Where do yore fellas go when they got coin to spend an' aim to have a good time?"

The rancher's face darkened at this unexpected request; it was more than a little early for a new hand to be seeking a holiday. But he knew the breed; when the urge for a spree possessed them, they would sacrifice their positions to ;ratify it.

"Work-shy already?" he asked sarcastically. "Red Rock kill clean you out quickly enough; women, drink, and cards, with a probable gun-fight thrown in; you'll find them all here."

"Thank yu, seh," Sudden replied. "That tale will do for the boys, but the truth is, I'm goin' to Hell City."

If the puncher had suddenly developed horns and a tail his employer could not have appeared more astonished.

"Are you tired of life?" he cried. "Why, they'll shoot you on sight."

"Yo're forgettin' my past," the puncher pointed out, and when Keith remained silent, "Didn't yu get the news' I warned yu about?"

"yes, but I decided to ignore it, and I'm asking no questions." a o d. Well, fella will be glad to see me."

"That is possible, if he knows who you are."

"Black Sam claims he's a wizard--finds out everythin'."

"That nigger is a superstitious old lunatic, saturated with witchcraft, voodoo, and like nonsense. To risk your life on that ..."

"Not any; the outfit is wise, an' I'm bettin' one of 'em is in Satan's pay."

"Which one?" the rancher asked sharply.

"Couldn't say," Sudden replied, and grinned. "It ain't Frosty nor Lazy--they's allus most amazin' broke."

Keith was silent for a space, considering this singular proposition, and a little suspicious. He reminded himself, however, that had the cowboy wished to desert he could have done so without warning, and the Red Rock fable was unnecessary unless he intended to return to the ranch.

"Why are you going, Green?"

There was a shade of anxiety in his tone which Sudden knew was not there on his account.

"Just to have a look at the fella an' his hide-out," he explained. "Sort o' spyin' out the land, yu savvy; I ain't gettin' no place, hangin' about here. He'll take it I'm ready to double-cross yu, an' that's what I'm gamblin' on." He hesitated for a moment. "Yu don't happen to have a picture o'--yore On?"

Keith frowned. "No, I--destroyed them," he said harshly. "Take care of yourself, Green; I will explain to Lagley."

As the puncher walked away, a low voice called from a window at the end of the building.

"These wooden walls are not sound-proof," Joan smiled. "I happened to hear your last question. Is this what you want? It was taken only a few months before he--went away."

Sudden scrutinized the photograph, which seemed oddly familiar. The costly cowboy clothes, ornate belt and weapons were there, but the face of the wearer was younger, smiling, and the eyes did not lack expression. A mark showed on the right side of the chin. He pointed to it, and the girl nodded.

"A faint scar, the only thing about him that hasn't altered," she said sadly. "You see, I was the cause of that. It happened when we were children: I had teased him, and running after me, he fell on a stone; the wound healed badly. All along I have been persuading myself there must be some mistake, but when I saw that ..."

The quiver in her voice and the trembling fingers as she took back the picture told him that she was very near tears.

"A fella who takes the wrong trail can come back an' start again," he consoled.

"Yes," she said, and her eyes met his meaningly. "I would like Jeff to have that chance."

Sudden understood--she was asking him not to kill. To his great relief, the Colonel called her, and he was spared the necessity of replying.

At supper that evening, he asked questions about Red Rock, and casually mentioned his holiday. The announcement met with a mixed reception.

"Why, yu ain't been here no time," one of the older men commented. "How'd yu work it, Green?"

"Held a gun on the 01' Man, I should think," Turvey sneered.

"Yeah, that's yore trouble, Turvey," Sudden retorted. "Yu should, but yu don't. I just asked, that's all."

"Ken must be drunk or loco; strike while the iron's hot is my motto," Frosty grinned, as he made for the door. "I'd like to go with yu, Jim."

He was back in ten minutes, still wearing the grin, but hisred face told a different story. A dozen eager voices put the same question.

Frosty shook his head. "Said he was mighty sorry, but he couldn't have two of his best men absent at the same time, which shows he's in his senses all right. 0' course, that don't shut out all o' yu."

A yelp of ironical mirth greeted this modest explanation and in the midst of it, Lagley entered. He shot a sour look at Sudden.

"Why didn't yu come to me if yu wanted to lay off?"

"Thought I'd save yu the trouble of askin' the boss," was * the careless reply.

The implication that he had not the power to give permission only deepened the foreman's frown, but it was Turvey who spoke.

"Allus did hate a ranch where the owner keeps pets," he said viciously.

"Well, yu ain't tied to it, are yu?" Sudden enquired acidly.

Lagley averted a possible storm by calling the new hand outside.

"Keith said yu were goin' to Red Rock. How long d'yu aim to stay away?" he asked.

"Two-three days, mebbe."

"Have yu told--him?" He jerked a thumb towards the hills.

"Lord, no. I ain't sold him my soul."

"Wait an' see," was the reply, and the puncher could have sworn there was a tinge of bitterness in the tone. "D'yu figure that he won't know?"

"I ain't carin', but shore he will," Sudden said. "Why, yonder goes Turvey, takin' the glad tidin's."

Even as he spoke, a hunched-up little horseman shot away from the corral, heading through the gloom towards the hills. The foreman swore.

"Damnation, yo're way off the target, Green. That hombre has to night-herd the bunch o' three-year-olds yu an' Frosty have rousted out'n the brush."

Sudden accepted the explanation but did not believe it. "A fella can't allus hit the mark," he said. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"

"On'y this," Lagley replied. "Yo're sittin' in a bigger game than yu savvy; don't over-value yore hand."

"Oh, I'm growed up an' got all my teeth," the puncher returned lightly. "Any messages for Red Rock?"

He got no answer to this flippant enquiry. Seated on the bench outside the bunkhouse, he smoked, and turned things over. Despite the fact that they were supposed to be working together, the foreman did not like him. That he had guessed correctly as to Turvey's errand he felt positive.

"Steve don't want me in neither camp," he reflected. "Probably he's plannin' to play me some scurvy trick right now. Wonder if that little rat is goin' on to Red Rock to make arrangements?"

The possibility sent him to bed chuckling.

Sudden's reception in the morning at Black Sam's was not the one he had expected, for though the negro professed to be glad to see him, it was very evidently untrue. His hands shook as he supplied the drink ordered, and his anxious gaze was never off the door. A blunt enquiry elicited that nothing had been seen of Scar and his friends, but that other denizens of the bandit stronghold had visited Dugout and behaved themselves decorously.

"Then what's yore trouble, ol'-timer?" the puncher demanded. "Why treat me like I had a catchin' complaint?"

The saloon-keeper furtively pushed a piece of paper the bar. "Done foun' it dis mawnin', shove undeh de do', quavered. "I silo' gotta leave heah."

Clumsily scrawled in pencil on the soiled scrap were the words : "One more offense an' you dekorate a tree.

SATAN."

Sudden laughed as he read it. "I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry, Sam," he advised. "Why, yu numskull, don't yu reckon Jeff Keith can write an' spell better'n that?"

The negro's gloomy features lightened. "Yo're sho'ly right, ser," he agreed. "Dis niggeh got no savvy. Massa Jeff he done went to college."

"It's friend Scar, o' course, tryin' to frighten yu. Lemme have the message, an' next time I meet the gent I'll make him eat it."

He pocketed the warning and casually mentioning that he was bound for Red Rock, departed. Climbing the long slope to Hell City, an idea occurred to him which brought a mischievous grin to his hard face. The custodian of the gate opened without question or comment, though it was not the man he had seen before. Evidently he was expected. The bandit chief received him without any sign of surprise and his first remark told that Turvey's time had not been entirely devoted to night-herding.

"Aren't you rather wide of the route to Red Rock?" Sudden affected astonishment he did not feel. "Yu are well served," he said.

"As a man should be who serves himself," was the reply. "Did the girl ask you to be silent?"

"It was a good guess."

The masked man grimaced. "Well, call it that. Now I'll tell you another thing--you never had any intention of visiting Red Rock."

"Me bein' here, it shore looks thataway," the puncher countered. "Mebbe yu know about this too." He produced the scrap of paper and told where he had obtained it. "Not quite yore style, I'd say, threatin' an old darkie who musta been pretty good to yu as a kid," he added sarcastically.

The effect was volcanic. Through shut lips the bandit barked an order which sent Silver scuttering. His master paced to and fro, his fists bunched till the knuckle-bones showed white beneath the skin, obviously seething with anger. In a few minutes the dwarf returned, with Roden slouching behind. With a furious gesture, Satan flung the paper at his feet.

"What's the meaning of that?" he snarled.

The man picked it up. "I dunno " he began, and stopped as he saw the gun levelled at his breast.

"One lie and you'll never speak again."

The rascal did not doubt it. In those pale eyes shone a lust to take his life, and he knew that the finger on the trigger was itching to press it. His tanned skin turned to a sickly yellow.

"Aw, Chief, I didn't mean no harm," he muttered. "The nigger's bin gittin' uppity--you know what he done to some of us a bit back, an' I wanted to give him a bad moment, that's all."

"All? You dared to act without permission, and use my name? One more break like that, you damned dog, and I'll feed you to the buzzards. Get out, and remember, that warning now applies to you."

Only when the fellow had crept, utterly cowed, from the room did Satan replace his revolver and turn again to his visitor. The storm had passed.

"I am obliged to you," he said. "These brutes must learn that there is only one head."

"Would you have shot him?" the cowboy asked curiously. "Certainly, and he knew it," the bandit replied, and with a cold smile, '' You dont believe that. Well, I have another case to deal with--a worse one. You shall see."

He nodded to his satellite, who went and opened the door. Two men entered, gripping the arms of a third; behind them came some half-dozen others. Ragged, ill-favoured fellows, all of them, who found in the lawless West a haven where they might keep their freedom.

The prisoner was a half-breed, with more Mexican than Indian blood in him the cowboy conjectured, for he displayed none of the red man's stoicism in misfortune, and his spare frame shook as with an ague when his guards halted him in front of the masked judge. The poor wretch did not know that by his own cowardice he was condemning himself. Satan wasted no time.

"In the Big Bend affair you were one of the men who entered and cleaned up the bank?"

"Si, senor," was the reply, almost in a whisper.

"And you kept back five hundred dollars in gold, thereby adding to your share and lessening ours," the cold voice continued.

The man's lips writhed. "Sefior, eet ees a meestak," he cried. "Dere was one beeg haste--I no theenk--"

"That I would find out," the other concluded. "Fool ! All that happens is revealed to me by powers you could not comprehend. Listen: you gave one of the gold pieces to your woman, Anita; the others are buried beneath your blankets. You see, I know all. You have broken your oath to me, and robbed your comrades. The penalty for either is--death."

The accused tried to speak but his trembling lips were incapable of forming words. Save for the support of the two who held him he would have fallen to the floor. His judge contemplated him with contempt.

"I shall be merciful," he said, "but you must be punished."

He paused, and the cowboy saw a gleam of hope in the dark, fearful eyes. "You will receive--fifty lashes."

The gleam died instantly and stark terror took its place.

Speech came again in a shrill cry: "Not the wheep, senor; keel me, but not the wheep." He would have dropped on his knees but the guards rudely jerked him upright, and at a sign from their master, dragged him away, still mouthing wild, incoherent entreaties.

Satan motioned to his servant. "See to it, and let me know when all is ready," he said, and to Sudden, "Well, what do you think?"

"It will kill him."

"Of course, but it will save me from slaying others for the same offence," was the callous reply. "That is civilization's excuse for hanging a murderer--he dies that the rest may live, so even this contemptible coward will have served the community." From without, the muffled, brazen voice of a bell came to them. "Have you ever seen a man thrashed, Sudden? Come, it is an interesting sight."

Little as he wished to witness such a spectacle, the puncher could not refuse. A deed of violence was no new thing to him, and in the course of his adventurous career he had encountered men who, spurred on by greed or revenge, would commit any crime in the calendar, but never had he met the like of the inhuman devil at his side. Throughout the mock trial he sensed that the Red Mask was revelling in his power to hurt, and his so-called promise of mercy was no more than calculated cruelty to a culprit already doomed.

They stepped out into the sunlight to find a curious scene awaiting them. At a point where the street widened, stood a stout post, and beside it, fixed to the cliff, a big bell. Sudden had noticed them earlier but without suspecting their sinister purpose. Tied to the post, stripped to the waist, his bound wrists- high above his head, was the half-breed, and by hisale a burly fellow holding a short-handled whip of plaited rawhide, the tapering end of which was knotted at intervals. Ringed round the pair were some two-score onlookers, summoned by the sonorous notes of the bell. Mostly men, their coarse, cruel faces were alight with anticipation. They were about to be entertained, and Sudden, seeking for some sign of sympathy, remembered that the condemned had endeavoured to rob these people; there could be no compassion from them.

The excited chattering ceased and the circle opened as the Red Mask and his companion appeared. A little behind where they stood the cowboy could hear two men muttering. "Five dollars he don't stand twenty-five strokes."

"Yo're on; Pedro is tougher than he 'pears."

"But he got the gal Muley wanted an' that hombre ain't the forgettin' sort. Look at him."

The man with the whip was drawing the lash almost caressingly through his fingers, with a gloating expression which only too plainly betrayed eagerness to begin his ghoulish task. Sudden's remonstrance brought only a sneer to the Chief's thin lips.

"I picked him for that reason," he said coldly. "I shall get good service."

He was about to give the awaited signal when, from behind a group of spectators, a woman rushed forward and flung herself at his feet. Not yet thirty, she had a bold kind of beauty, but now her face had the pallor of death, the cheeks sunken, the eyes filled with bitter anguish.

"Spare him," she pleaded. "He did not want the gold--he took it for me, because I taunted him with his poverty. It was my fault, let me take the punishment. I do not fear the whip, but Pedro is ill--it will kill him."

The impassioned appeal might have been made to a statue. One piteous glance at those implacable eyes told her that she had failed.

"Take her away," Satan ordered.

The woman stood up. Despair had transformed her from a broken suppliant into a raging fury. She raised a hand heavenwards.

"You devil!" she raved. "May God's fire strike you--"

Ere she could finish, the words were stifled in her throat. The men who had seized her were about to drag her from the scene when the Chief stayed them.

"Let her remain," he said harshly. "She shall see her lover suffer, and if she utters but one word, I will double the sentence."

But the spirit of passion was spent; with a low moan, the woman sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands. The man with the whip, whose advances she had rejected, gazed at the bowed form with brutal satisfaction; every blow he dealt would lacerate her also; his vengeance would be complete.

A curt command and the lash whistled through the air, sweeping across the bared back and cutting a livid weal from shoulder to hip. The half-breed's whole frame quivered and from his ashen lips sprang a shriek of agony.

"I figured Muley would draw blood at the first lick," one of the wagerers commented.

"Bah! He ain't started yet--that was just a taster," the other replied. "He don't want Pedro to pass out too soon."

The cruel work went on, blow succeeding blow, and with fiendish accuracy the wielder of the weapon contrived that each should fall on a new spot, so that by the time a dozen had been delivered, the victim's back became a red, raw mass. The pain must have been atrocious but after the first cry there was no further sound save the hiss of the lash. Dangling limply from his bound wrists, head bowed between hisbiceps, the sufferer was spared the sight of the brute beasts gathered there to witness his torment.

"Gittin' tired Muley?" one asked jeeringly. "Somebody did oughta spell you."

The flogger, already exasperated by the silence of his subject, spat an oath at the speaker and, measuring his distance, rained stroke after stroke, slashing the pulped flesh to ribbons and sending the blood flying. Then he paused, panting, his eyes glaring murder. But his work was done; the drooping head of the half-breed sagged sideways. Muley darted forward and grasped it by the hair.

"Cashed!" he cried disgustedly. "He's cheated me, damn him."

With a gesture, the Chief stilled the babel which broke out. "Justice is done," he said grandiloquently.

As they walked away, the puncher was aware that his companion was eyeing him closely.

"Well, what do you think of my method of treating traitors?"

"'Pears to make yu popular with yore people," was Sudden's non-committal answer.

Satan laughed mockingly. "They hate, but are afraid of me," he boasted, "and that is how I would have it. Poets prate of love, but fear is the strongest of the passions; it is the great governing factor of life; fear of pain, punishment, death and damnation turns us all into cowards and makes so-called civilization possible. Have you ever thought of that?"

"Too high-falutin' for me," Sudden said. "What I'm worryin' about right now is where I'll sleep an' put my hoss; I ain't due back at the Double K till to-morrow evenin'."

"Silver will see to it, and there is a corral at the other end of the place."

"I'll take Nigger along, an' have a look round."

"Better wear this," Satan replied, producing one of the red badges. "It will tell the men that you are now one of us, and may save you trouble."

Sudden's truculent tone was back. "If anybody starts somethin' I hope yu got a good big graveyard."

The cold eyes glinted. "There's room in it," was the answer.

Chapter XIII

It did not take the cowboy long to find the corral, formed by fencing an indentation in the cliff on the left of the street. There was a trough of water, and scanty tussocks of coarse grass afforded some sort of feed. Sudden surveyed it whimsically.

"Short commons, of friend," he said, as he turned the black loose, "but yu ain't gotta live here--yet. Don't yu go to learnin' bad habits from them other rough-necks."

By the side of the corral was a largish timber building, a weather-worn sign on which announced it as "Dirk's Saloon." Carrying his saddle and rifle, Sudden went in. A middle-aged, pock-marked man behind the bar was the sole occupant; he promptly produced a bottle.

"Drinkin' alone is a poor kind o' pastime," the customer said genially, and when the other had helped himself, added, "Got a bed for me to-night?"

"Guess I can fix it," was the reply. "Seen you with the Chief. New chum, huh?"

"Yu might call it that," the cowboy agreed. "So yu were there? It warn't a pretty sight, but a fella who double-crosses his pals don't deserve pity."

"You said it. Pedro got what he shorely asked for."

They drank again, and Sudden, having dumped his belongings in his bedroom, went out. Turning westwards, he discovered that the street narrowed again to a mere defile closed by a gate similar to that by which he had entered. He stopped short of it, and retraced his steps. A little beyond the saloon, on the opposite side, the sound of sobs arrested him. Acting upon an impulse, he stole along a burrow-like assage outside which he had halted. It led to one of the rimitive caves, and there he found the woman, Anita, on her i ees by some scattered blankets. Two stools, and a few attered cooking utensils comprised all the furniture. She looked up as he entered, and said dully: "What now? Haven't you done enough?"

"Somebody seemed to be in trouble," Sudden replied. "I thought mebbe I could help."

"Help?" she repeated harshly. "From one who wears the Devil's trade-mark? Can you bring the dead back to life, you who stood by and laughed as he died?"

"Yu got me wrong, ma'am," he said gently. "I ain't much iven to laughin' an' doin's like that shore don't amuse me. I ouldn't stop it--they'd got the goods on him."

She hesitated, her tear-drenched eyes still suspicious. "It s true," she murmured at length. "That hell-dog knows everything--he has a spirit. Even at this moment maybe--"

"Shucks ! he's no more'n an ornery human bein'--a mighty ornery one at that. He's got spies an' I'm bettin' he pays 'em well. Go an' tell him what I've said an' make yore peace."

Her eyes flashed. "After what he did? I would die first," she cried passionately. "Wasn't it enough to take life without ...?"

She broke down, but he gradually learned the story. They had brought the dead man to his wretched abode, and when she had begged them to let her bury the body, had hurled it headlong through the opening which provided light and entilation, with the cruel gibe that the coyotes would save her the trouble. Sudden looked out; more than a hundred feet below he could see the tossing tops of trees above theundergrowth. Satan had spoken truly; there was indeed room in the grave-yard.

"Mebbe I can find an' bury him for yu," he said.

She stared at him, wonderingly. "Stranger, if you'll do that, I--"

"Shucks," he interrupted hastily, and beat a retreat. Getting his horse, he rode to the western gate, which the man in charge opened without demur. For a mile the wagon-track rose and fell, swinging round then where it dipped down into the valley which the bandit town overlooked. Thrusting through the thick brush along the foot of the cliff he arrived near the place where he judged the body must fall. Presently he found it--a shapeless heap in a patch of tall grass. He had no implement to dig a hole but there was a convenient crevice and in this he laid the poor broken frame, piling heavy stones to defend it from desecration. Then, with his knife, he carved a rude cross to mark the spot.

Night was nigh when he again entered the town, and in the shadows opposite the saloon, saw the woman waiting. He told her what he had done and the drooping figure straightened.

"So, I have only to avenge him," she said, and her low voice was venomous. It softened again as-she continued, "Stranger, in this den of wild beasts it is good to have a friend; remember you can count on one who will not forget what she owes you."

"Why, I ain't done nothin'," he protested.

"You think not? Yet if that murderer learns of it he will treat the pair of us as he did Pedro."

"We won't tell him," Sudden smiled. "Adios."

He swung his horse over towards the corral, and when he had vanished in the gloom, Anita returned to the hovel she called home. Sinking down on the pile of rugs, she shook her head in perplexity.

"Why is he here?" she asked herself. "He's not like the rest." She had heard he was a gunman, renowned in the West, and he looked it, but there was a cleanness, a self-reliance, and lack of bluster which made him stand out among the criminals and outcasts who found a refuge in Hell City. The thought that this stranger was no admirer of the man she had vowed vengeance upon brought a tigerish smile to her lips.

Sudden's appearance in the saloon earned him no more than a glance or two; a new face was a common occurrence, and his was not even that. Some two dozen men were present, playing cards, dicing, or drinking at the bar. Among the latter was Muley, who seemed to be the chief attraction. He was evidently proud of his morning's performance and could speak of nothing else, his one grievance being that it had not lasted longer.

"You hit too hard," one of the group round him remarked.

"Hard?" bellowed Muley. "Why, I hadn't mor'n begun to stroke him when he goes an' dies on me. I'm tellin' you, the Chief's gittin' poor stuff these days; calls theirselves men an' ain't got the guts of a louse."

His malignant gaze travelled round the room, rested for an instant on the puncher, and passed on to a youth sitting alone on a stool at the end of the bar. Sudden had already noticed him and speculated as to what boyish escapade had brought him there. With a wink to his companions, the flogger lurched across, and said roughly: "What's yore name, you?"

The lad looked at him with drink-bemused eyes. "Ben Holt," he replied, adding, "I on'y come in to-day."

"Well, if that ain't good news. The rule is for newcomers to set up drinks for the crowd. What about it?"

Ben Holt laughed dismally. "Yo're too late, mister, I'm near busted," he explained. "If I'd knowed earlier ... "

The bully growled an oath, and swinging his right arm struck the boy a flat-handed blow on the side of his head which swept him to the floor. Then he seated himself on the vacant stool, and with an impudent grin at Sudden, said: "That's what we do to fresh fellas who don't pay their footin'."

All eyes were on the puncher as he stepped unhurriedly forward. "I'm a fresh fella, an' I'm not buyin'. So what?"

For ten tense seconds, Muley stared into the grey-blue eyes of the man who had called his bluff, seeking a way out. The other found it for him.

"Yu yaller dawg," he grated. "If I'd a whip yu should have a taste of yore own medicine, but as it is ..."

His hand rose and fell, landing on the fellow's bloated cheek with such force as to send him sprawling. Lying in the dirt, spitting out inarticulate curses, he clawed feebly at the gun he dared not draw. Covert grins were on the faces of most of the onlookers--a bully has few friends in the day of discomfiture. Sudden took no further notice of him, but went to the boy, who had got up and was watching the scene with wide eyes.

"A mouthful o' fresh air won't do yu no harm," he said, and led the way to the door.

Outside the corral the puncher paused, ostensibly to make a cigarette, but actually to give his companion time to shake off the fumes of the spirit he had imbibed. The cool cleanness of the night appeared to bring him out of the semi-dazed state. Sudden surveyed him sardonically.

"I'm guessin' yu an liquor ain't very well acquainted," he remarked. "Drownin' yore sorrows is a poor way--the blame things can anus swim."

The boy made a desperate attempt to smile. "I expect yo're right," he said. "But you were drinkin' too."

"I was takin' a drink. To sit there lappin' 'em up one after the other is somethin' different. What brought yu here?"

It was a common enough tale. A gambling debt he could not pay, an attempt to get the money dishonestly which failed, and he was outside the law.

"The sheriff an' his men was hot on our trail an' we lined out for here. They got the other two, but I made it. I most wish I hadn't," he finished miserably.

"That's no way to talk," Sudden told him. "Keep yore chin up an' stay away from liquor an' cards. When did yu lose that posse?"

"Two days back, 'bout forty mile off," was the reply. "I rode in the water some."

"Good for yu. I'm bettin' they've turned tail."

Holt remembered something. "I'm thankin' you," he said shyly.

"Don't yu. That windbag was aimin' at me. So long."

Purely as a matter of policy, the puncher returned to the saloon, the owner of which greeted him with a grin.

"He's went," he said. "Got the face-ache, I figure; that was a daddy of a wallop you give him." He lowered his voice. "Don't forget that anythin' goes in this man's town."

Sudden realized that the warning was well-meant. "I'm obliged, friend," he smiled. "Right now, bed goes for me."

Lying on his blankets in the darkness he turned over the day's doings. He had put two people under an obligation, and had made another enemy; the latter troubled him not at all. His examination of the place had only convinced him of its strength. As for its ruler ... It seemed incredible that Kenneth Keith could be father to such a son.

"He's a throw-back," Sudden mused. "The 01' Man musta had a pirut ancestor, one o' the bloodthirsty kind that made prisoners walk the plank just to amuse hisself, though that would be too tame for this fella."

Satisfied with this solution, he went to sleep. In the morning he idled about, studying the life in this human warren. Itwas a peaceful enough scene. Men, and a few women, sunning themselves in the open, or chatting in groups outside the store or the saloon; it might have been any one of a hundred frontier settlements he had seen. Once, a hard-eyed rider galloped in, scattering dust and dogs in all directions, to disappear into the Chief's abode. He encountered the woman, Anita, but she went by without a glance. Then he ran into Holt, and saw that something was troubling him.

"Head bad?" he asked.

"Feels like it had been split open with an axe an' joined wrong," the boy said ruefully. "But that ain't anythin'." He hesitated a moment and then blurted out, "I tried to git away this mornin', but the fella at the gate said I had to have a permit."

The puncher shook his head. "It ain't that easy. Better stay an' lay for a chance. Mebbe I'll be able to help yu."

In the afternoon he went to see the Chief. He found Miss Dalroy there, and would have retired, but the masked man stayed him.

"Come in," he said. "You know Belle, I believe."

"We met at a very fortunate moment--for me," the girl smiled, her fine eyes dwelling on the lithe, athletic form of the visitor. "I owe you a great deal, Mister Sudden."

"My name is Green, ma'am," he corrected stiffly, "an' yu don't owe me nothin'."

"Well, I give in about the name," she replied. "For the rest, I shall--"

"I take the debt upon myself, Belle," Satan interrupted, and to the cowboy, "So you didn't avail yourself of Silver's hospital?"

"I like to sleep near my hoss," Sudden replied curtly. "And you occupied your time antagonizing another of your comrades," the cold voice continued. "Was that wise?"

"He was tryin' to run a blazer on me, an' I don't stand for that--from anyone."

The belligerent tone and very obvious challenge brought the merest ghost of a smile to the straight lips beneath the mask, an effect the speaker did not expect.

"I'm goin' back to the Double K to-night," he announced.

Sudden saw the man's fists tighten, but, furious as the bandit was at this slighting of his authority, he showed no other sign.

"The great gunman is already weary of us," he said mockingly to the girl. "We can only hope that he will return soon--and stay longer."

Though the cowboy sensed the threat his expression was blank. "Shore I'll be back," he said, and added a clumsy compliment, "Hell City ain't so much, but if it's good enough for Miss Dalroy ..."

He bowed to the lady, nodded to the man, and swaggered out. For a space there was silence, and then Satan remarked, "That fellow has much to learn."

The woman shivered; the words were commonplace, but the tone in which they were spoken made them sound like a death sentence. With what seemed uncanny power, he read her thought.

"Feeling sorry for him, Belle?"

The start of surprise told him he had guessed correctly, but her reply was contradictory. With a disdainful shrug she said: "Not very, but naturally, I'm grateful."

Dusk was falling when Sudden set out for the Double K. As he neared the gate of the town, a hooded figure stopped him; it was Belle Dalroy.

"I've been waiting to tell you just one thing," she whispered hurriedly. "Don't come back--ever."

"Why, ma'am, it's right kind o' yu, but I'm afraid that ain't possible," Sudden told her. "Yu see--"

"That you are one of those self-satisfied folk on whom a warning is wasted, yes," she finished cuttingly. "Very well, I can do no more."

She turned swiftly and was lost in the growing darkness. The puncher rode slowly on, wondering.

Chapter XIV

When he reached the Double K, Sudden rode straight to the ranch-house. Through the french windows of the living-room he could see that Keith had visitors--Martin Merry and Lagley. The girl was not present. The eyes of the men opened wide when the cowboy tapped on the window and walked in. Instantly three guns covered him.

"What the devil are you doing here?" his employer rapped out. "Talk fast, and keep your hands still."

It was Sudden's turn to look astonished. "I'm here to report, seh," he said simply.

"And you brought your nerve with you," the Colonel retorted. "Having got the herd hidden I suppose you could be spared?"

"I'm in the dark, seh," the puncher said patiently.

"Really? So it will be news that our northern range was raided last night and over one hundred head driven off, together with as many Twin Diamond steers?"

"It certainly is."

"Yu an' Frosty have bin roustin' out an' bunchin' cattle on that boundary," Lagley remarked.

"At yore orders."

"So yu knowed where to find 'em."

Sudden's eyes narrowed. "Yu tryin' to tell me I stole the stock?" he asked.

"Just that," the foreman replied. "Lyin' about it won't buy yu nothin'. Yu were seen--that white blaze on yore black is plenty unusual."

"Who saw me?"

"Several o' the boys--yore side-kick, Frosty, among 'em."

"Their sight must be good, me bein' in--"

"Red Rock, was yu about to say?" Lagley sneered. "We happen to know yu never went near there."

"That was a stall," Sudden explained. "I told the Colonel I was goin' to Hell City."

"On my business, but it seems to have been on his own," Keith said acridly. "He deceived me."

"I'll say he did," the foreman cried exultantly. "Gives him a chance to pull off the rustlin' an' if he's seen there, yu can't chirp--he's workin' for yu. Damned smart, I gotta hand it to yu, Sudden; the on'y mistake yu made was usin' yore own hoss. I guess that fixes yu, good an' proper."

He looked expectantly at his companions. Merry slowly shook his head. "It looks like yu might be right, Lagley, but I hate to find myself mistaken in a man," he said. "What yu goin' to do, Ken?"

"Hang him at sunrise," was the stern reply. "A rope's the only remedy for rustling. Take his guns, Steve, and shoot if he makes a move."

Sudden's brain was busy. The rancher's threat was no empty one, and to allow himself to be taken meant a shameful death; there would be no mercy for a man who had helped to rob his own range. Only a single chance remained, desperate, but he must take it. Three of them would be firing at him, but...

Silent, with arms hanging loosely from drooping shoulders as though overwhelmed by the catastrophe which had overtaken him, he waited until the foreman moved to do his master's hidding. Then his left hand flashed to his belt and a bullet shattered the hanging light, plunging the room into darkness. Three spits of flame followed, but the fugitive had instantly dropped to hands and knees, dived for the window, and disappeared amid a shower of broken glass. When the three reached the verandah, the diminishing drum of pounding hooves apprised them that they were too late. An excited group of half-clad men came surging from the bunkhouse, and Lagley was yelling to them to get their guns and horses when Keith stopped him.

"Don't be seven sorts of a damned fool," he said savagely. "you had him covered, in the light, and he got away. Fine chance you'd have in the dark. Tell the men to turn in, and do the same."

When the foreman had gone, Merry turned to his host. "I'm just as pleased he made it. It's true things looked bad, but I can size up a fella with most, an' I'm bettin' there's an explanation."

"There is always that for the lunatic willing to believe it. Better put him on your pay-roll."

"I will, if he shows up," Martin grinned. "He's worth three o' yore foreman."

"Steve's stupid, but he's honest," Keith replied.

"Mebbe, but he ain't the man he used to be, an' I'd have no opening for him at the Twin Diamond," Martin said. "Hullo, here's Miss Joan come to see which of us she's gotta weep over."

The girl, wrapped in a great-coat, and carrying a candle, was standing in the wrecked window. Keith explained what had happened.

"I don't believe that Green would steal cattle," she said. Merry burst out laughing and slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Two to one against yu, ol'-timer; yo're outvoted," he cried.

"Which ought to convince me, I suppose?" Keith replied stiffly. "Well, it doesn't. If I lay hands on the scoundrel again, he swings, even if he's riding for you, Martin."

'Satisfied that he would not be pursued ln the dark, Sudden eased his mount after covering a few miles. He saw clearly enough what had occurred: Satan and Lagley had "framed" him, and his absence from the Double K had provided the opportunity. A daub of white paint and the bandit's black would convincingly resemble Nigger in the starlight. Satan's reference to his early return to Hell City recurred to him and he now understood the sly smile which had then puzzled him. The reason for the plot was not so obvious. Either the bandit wished to force the cowboy to join him openly, or to get rid of him altogether. Sudden did not think the latter likely, though it might well have suited Lagley.

Dismissing the matter from his mind, he began to seek a place to spend the night, for he had no intention of returning to Hell City until daylight. It did not take him long; at a spot where the trail to Dugout dipped between brush-covered slopes, he found a grassy hollow from which he could see without being seen. He picketed his horse, but did not remove the saddle, rolled himself in his blanket, and, back against a sapling, was soon asleep.

The sun was climbing the eastern sky when a merry but unmelodious voice awoke him; it seemed familiar. Creeping forward, he parted the bushes; Frosty was riding leisurely towards him. Sudden grinned, thrust out a gun, and called hoarsely: "Push 'em up, yu yowlin' he-cat."

The rider's start of surprise nearly threw him out of the saddle, but the protruding weapon admitted no argument; he raised his hands. The hidden voice went on grumblingly: "Oughta blow yore light out, spoilin' my sleep an' pizenin' the atmosphere thataway. Explain yoreself."

Try as he might, he could not keep the mirth out of his tone. Frosty detected it; he lowered his hands.

"Shoot an' be damned," he said.

Instead of a bullet, came an order. "The sheriff o' Dugout will get off that bone-bag he calls a hoss an' step up here, fetchin' said bone-bag along."

The cowboy did as directed and found himself facing the smiling owner of the voice. "Knowed it was yu allatime," he said hastily. "Just had to let yu play yore kid game. No, there ain't nobody followin' me; I slipped off."

"To find me?"

"I was hopin'--figured yu might go to town. Jim, I don't savvy--thought mebbe yu could wise me up."

"I ain't very clear my own self," Sudden admitted. "Yu were there when the herd was run off?"

"Yeah, four of us was watchin' them steers yu an' me bin collectin'--Steve had a hunch somethin' was goin' to happen," Frosty said.

Sudden's grin was ironical. "He would have," he commented. "An' he wanted plenty witnesses."

"Over a dozen of 'ern closed in onus from all sides, firin'," Frosty continued. "They got Denver in the leg, crippled two hosses, an' swept the cows off before we'd got our breath; it was the neatest gather. The leader's mount was the spit o' Nigger."

"Was he masked?"

"I didn't get that close an' the light was poor, but I'd say he had a bandanna round his chops. He shorely looked liked yu, Jim."

"It warn't me nor Nigger--both of us was in Hell City."

"Yu didn't go to Red Rock?"

"Never meant to, an' Keith knowed it," Sudden said. "I've been framed, cowboy. Mister Satan wants me to throw in with him."

"I'll bet yu'd not do that, Jim."

"Then yu'd lose, for that is pre-cisely what I'm goin' to do," was the sardonic answer. "Are yu suggestin' I should let the Double K string me up?""There's other places," Frosty pointed out.

"I know it," Sudden retorted harshly. "I'm to go on the dodge for somethin' I didn't do, huh? That's happened before, an' I'm through. This time I'll hit back, an' hit hard."

The bitter vehemence of this declaration told that further argument would be useless. Frosty was silent for a while, and then : "If yu need help, Jim, yu on'y gotta mention it--that's what I really came to say, an' I reckon it goes for some o' the others, too."

"I'm obliged, but there's no call for my friends to put their necks in a noose because I do," Sudden replied.

"Pickles !" Frosty laughed. "Friends oughta hang together, anyways. We're backin' yu--the limit."

"Which is mighty good hearin'," Sudden said soberly. "I got a sorta ambition to abolish Hell City, but yu needn't mention it yet awhile."

Frosty stared at him incredulously. "Is that all?" he asked. "What yu goin' to do in yore spare time?"

"I'll have to think up somethin'," Sudden grinned. "Listen: I happened on a private way o' gettin' into the place." He described the spot. "Find, but don't use it till yu have a word from me. Still got that badge? Good, yu may need it."

"Jim, d'yu reckon Steve is Toxin'?"

"He was powerful eager to see me dance on nothin'."

"No foreman likes to have his cattle stole."

"That's true; but I wouldn't trust him. Now, I gotta be on the move. So long."

"When yu want us we'll come a-runnin'," were Frosty's parting words. "Yu goin' to town?"

"Yeah, I couldn't stay for supper las' night an' my insides is remindin' me; fresh air's good, but it ain't fillin'."

Frosty watched the black till it disappeared round a curve and then climbed his own mount. "Just can't figure him, Cactus," he mused, "but I'm bettin' high he's--straight."

Sudden's demeanour when he reached Dugout was anything but that of a fugitive. He procured the needed meal at Black Sam's, and learned that though the raid on the ranches was the one subject of conversation, his own supposed share in it was not known. This was fortunate, the town being indignant at the spoliation of its two best customers.

"Couple o' hundred head at one lick," Jansen said. "Real money, that is. I'll wager Keith is some difficult to live with."

"He's takin' it hard," the puncher admitted.

"Beats me why him an' Merry don't team up an' drive them rats out'n their hole," Naylor remarked. "Some of us would give a hand."

"Ever bin in Hell City?" Birt asked. "I have---on business," he added hastily. " 'Less yo're a bird, there's but two ways in, an' four men with rifles would hold the pair of 'em agin ten times their number."

Sudden left them arguing, and rode in the direction of the place he had been warned to avoid. He was less than half-way when he met Miss Dalroy, riding a horse he recognized. At the sight of him she pulled up, anger and scorn in her eyes.

"You are going back?" she cried.

"Shore looks thataway," he replied, and then, "So he lets yu ride his hoss? He's a beauty--the hoss, I mean."

He leant over and stroked the shiny muzzle, his hand straying upwards, pushing the short hair aside to find traces of white paint at the roots.

"I tried to see the Chief night afore last," he said casually. "Silver said he warn't there."

She looked sharply at him. "What are you trying to find out?"

He shrugged. "Just whether it was an excuse or not. There can't be any mystery 'bout his movements, anyway, an'yo're forgettin'--this." He pointed to the badge he had donned after leaving Dugout.

"He was abroad," she admitted. "If you had any sense at all you'd throw that thing away and--ride."

"Why not take yore own advice?" he smiled. "What keeps yu in Hell City?"

"The reason we all have--necessity," she replied, and in a burst of bitterness, "I killed a brute, and because I was a woman, they called it murder and would have hanged me; at the best, it meant a life sentence. Jeff contrived my escape, and brought me here."

"One good deed to his credit."

"Don't think it. Many of his men owe him the same debt, and that gives him absolute power over them."

"Ever seen him without the mask?" Sudden asked casually.

"No, but once he showed me a photograph; it was signed `Jefferson Keith.' "

"Odd that a fella should hide his face from the woman he cares for," the puncher murmured. "Shucks, I shouldn't 'a' said that; musta been thinkin' aloud."

Her laugh did not ring true. "If you're meaning me, you'd better think again," she said scornfully. "I'm just his property, to pet or punish at his pleasure. He is incapable of any passion, save hate, and to satisfy that will stoop to the vilest deeds, and yet ..." she broke off with an impatient gesture, and then, "In some way you have offended him." She saw his little smile of tolerance, and touched her horse with the spur. "Oh, well, a wilful man must learn his lesson."

"I'm shore grateful, ma'am," he said gravely, and resumed his journey.

Apart from proof that Satan was in the plot to discredit him at the Double K he had discovened nothing. Belle Dalroy he had already classed as a fugitive from the law. Wayward, im petuous, and quick-tempered, she was not to be trusted. He smiled thinly at the thought that in this place to which he was going there was not one person on whom he could rely. The woman, Anita, perhaps, but promises made in the stress of emotion were not wont to be lasting. He consoled himself with a philosophical reflection:

"Playin' a lone hand has one good point--yu on'y got yoreself to worry about."

Chapter XV

Satan welcomed the puncher with a satirical smile. "Back so soon?" he cried.

"Yeah. Don't tell me yo're surprised."

"I said yesterday that you would be. I take it they were not pleased to see you at the Double K?"

"Pleased don't express it; I was a dream come true. I had to tear myself away," Sudden told him. "Why, Steve wanted to waste a new rope on me."

He gave an account of his escape, and the change in the masked man's expression was amazing.

"I told him you were not to be harmed," he rapped out. "Damn his soul, he's getting " He stopped, conscious of betraying himself, and then, "Well, it doesn't matter, no hurt was done. Still, it's a pity you stole those cows."

"So I did take 'em?"

"Certainly, so far as the country round is concerned, and my men believe the same," came the cool reply. "You see, I wanted to make sure of you, Sudden, and as this is now the only place where you will be safe, I think I've done it. Do you follow me?"

"I'm treadin' close on yore heels."

"I credit you with courage and intelligence. I need such a man to be my

"Pardner?"

"Right hand, I was about to say, but it may lead to the other. Those animals outside can execute but are incapable of thinking, for me or for themselves. You will take orders from me, and they from you."

"I'm a stranger; mebbe they won't stand for that."

"Are those guns of yours ornaments?" was the cynical query. "There is only one man who may prove really awkward, since you will be succeeding him."

"Ain't meanin' Steve, are yu?"

"That clod?" Satan sneered. "No, this is a fellow called `Butch'--short for butcher, I imagine, he being a slayer of some note. Have you heard of him?"

Despite the indifferent tone, the puncher was aware of the other's scrutiny.

"Not any," he replied nonchalantly.

"I shall leave you to deal with him, as you choose," the bandit said meaningly. "He is in the town now. You understand?"

"Why don't yu tell him to pull his freight?" Sudden asked bluntly.

"Knowing what he does, he would be a menace. Also, I need someone to take his place, and that someone must be the better man. Now do you see?"

Sudden did, all too clearly; he had again been jockeyed into false position. Butch, a dangerous tool who had transgressed, must be got rid of, and he--probably regarded in the same light, was to do the work. He could see no way out, save to abandon his mission.

"I get yu," he said.

"Right. How about quarters?"

"The saloon ain't so bad. Don't cotton much to these holes in the ground; make me feel like a gopher."

"One gets used to them."

Sudden glanced round. "Yu oughta be middlin' comfortable," he said. "That's a han'some picture."

Standing on the floor, where the light was poorest, he hadnot noticed it on his previous visits. A large canvas, depicted the life-size figure of a gunman. The half-crouch pointing pistol, and malignant expression on the face, produced an amazing effect of reality.

"The subject should appeal to you."

"Yeah," Sudden agreed. "The gun is wrong--he'd be dead afore he got it that high. Allasame, it's mighty clever---I could 'a' sworn I saw the eyes move."

Satan laughed. "That's a common illusion," he returned. "Well, I wish you luck."

"The fella who depends on luck has a poor pardner," the cowboy said, and went out.

A few moments passed and then the masked man said quietly, "You can come out, Butch."

In response to the invitation, a man emerged from behind the picture. His appearance was not formidable. Untended, greying hair showed beneath his slouched hat, a black coat hung loosely from his rounded shoulders, giving him a pronounced stoop. But his lined, dissipated face, with its bloodless lips and heavy-lidded eyes, told a different tale. Here was one to whom cruelty was a commonplace, who would slay without compunction.

"So that's the pilgrim?" he asked. "Why didn't you let me salivate him right away; it would 'a' bin easy."

"Yes, too easy--for him," \the Chief retorted. "I could have done that myself, but I want him shamed before others, beaten at his own game. Let him see death coming, and wait for it, suffering those few seconds of agony which turn a man into a white-livered cur and make him sweat blood. Do you understand?"

His voice trembled with the virulence of his passion, and it made Butch think a little. "Yeah," he said slowly. "You mean you don't like him--much, but has it occurred to you that he might get me?"

Satan's expression was an insult. "You don't expect to pick up five hundred dollars without some risk, I suppose?" he said coldly. "Of course, if he's quicker than you ..."

The gunman leered. "I guess not, but you hadn't mentioned the dinero," he replied. "Well, that's fixed; I'll be on my way." He had a word as he went, "Hell, t'o're a good hater, ain't you?"

Had he heard the valediction which followed him he would have been less satisfied with the vile bargain he had made.

"Yes, I'm a good hater," Satan repeated. "Go, you dog, and kill or be killed; either way, I gain."

* * * Sudden was glad to find himself in the sunlight; he had meant what he said--these dismal caverns in the rock, the homes of a dead and gone race, depressed him, and the interview had intensified this feeling. He smiled mirthlessly as he recalled the incident of the picture; there had been no illusion, the moving eyes were those of a hidden marksman, ready to shoot him down at a sign. He did not suspect it was the man he had to meet, and--subdue, but it warned him that the bandit was not taking risks regarding his own safety.

"An' two-three times I came near to puffin' on him," he reflected ruefully. "Oughta guessed that dealin' with the scum he has to he'd have a card up his sleeve. If `fools for luck' is right, I must be a prize specimen."

He spent the rest of the day loafing about the town, watching, listening, but he learned nothing until the evening when, returning to the saloon, a whisper came to him out of the gloom.

"A bad man is here. If he falls foul of you, remember that his right hand is the dangerous one."

The voice was Anita's, and he realized that he was passingthe place where she lived. But he could see no one, and with a word of thanks, he went on. The caution could only refer to Butch.

He entered the saloon from the rear, and in the seclusion of his room, examined his guns, reloading them with fresh cartridges from his belt, and spinning the cylinders; his life might depend on their being in perfect order. He did not want to kill this man, and if possible, he would avoid the encounter, but ..

The bar was well patronized, most of those present being men. The few exceptions were of the type common in the cattle-towns, brazen, loud-voiced, gaudlly attired creatures who had followed hunted men into hiding, or had been driven into it by their own misdeeds. The atmosphere was hazy with tobacco smoke and reeked of liquor and kerosene.

With his back against the bar, Sudden surveyed the scene with apparent indifference, but his eyes were alert. Most of the faces were unfamiliar, but in one corner, Scar and his cronies were playing poker. He could see no one likely to be the man he was expecting.

"Business 'pears to be boomin'," he remarked to the proprietor. "Any particular reason?"

At that moment, a half-tipsy reveller raised his glass and shouted, "Here's to the Double K."

The toast produced a burst of raucous laughter, and a cry of "Don't forget the Twin Diamond."

"There's yore answer," Dirk replied. "The Chief pays prompt."

Nevertheless, the cowboy had a conviction that this did not explain things; an air of expectancy, frequent furtive glances at the door and himself, suggested that the crowd had not come solely to spend ill-gotten gains. The saloon-keeper's wife called her husband from the exit leading to the rear of the premises. When he returned he said: "There's a fella at the back askin' for you."

Sudden went out, but not too hurriedly, for it might be a trap. He found young Holt, alone, and bursting with his news.

"Bin lookin' for you all over," he began. "They aim to git you to-night in there--a gunman named Butch has come a-purpose. Muley got drunk this arternoon an' he's bin tellin' everybody to come to yore funeral."

"I'm thankin' yu," Sudden said. "But what can I do?"

"Keep out'n his way," Holt said eagerly. "you can hide--"

The grim smile stopped him. "Never look for trouble, son," the puncher replied, "but when it's lookin' for yu there's on'y one thing to do--stand up an' face it."

"But you ain't got a chance--they say he never misses," the lad urged.

"The best of 'em is liable to slip up once, an' that's aplenty. It was right kind o' yu to come."

"You stood up for me," Holt muttered, and, as he turned to go, "I hope you git him."

"I hope I don't have to," Sudden replied gravely. Returning to the saloon, he declined to have his glass replenished, contenting himself with a cigar. He had no more than lighted it when the buzz of conversation abruptly ceased as a black-coated, stooping figure flung back the swing-door and walked slowly to the bar. The effect of his entry upon the company told that this was the man for whom they were waiting.

Sudden absorbed every detail as he advanced; the poor physique and malevolent features interested him not at all, but the one gun, slung on the left hip, did. It suggested a left-handed marksman, but the woman had warned him against the right. Moreover, the butt of the weapon was turned backinstead of forward, as would have been the case had the wearer intended to use the other hand. He had seen gunmen who did that, but it was an awkward method. Then his eyes hardened and his teeth shut like a vice; he had solved the problem.

Meanwhile Butch had reached the bar and called for drink. He poured himself a modest dose, tossed it down his throat, and turned his half-shrouded, reptilian eyes upon the lounging form of his quarry, a few yards distant.

"What you think o' this liquor?" he asked.

"Pretty good," was the quiet answer.

"I say it's damned bad," Butch snarled. "So now what?"

"Matter o' taste, I s'pose," the cowboy said. "Anyways, I ain't sellin' it."

A sinister silence ensued; gamblers ceased their games, and men forgot to drink as they watched a duel which they knew could end only in one way. The mild snub, however, had produced a snigger which died swiftly when Butch glared towards the spot from whence it came. Then he turned his rancorous gaze on the man he had undertaken to destroy.

"One o' them funny fellas, huh?" he sneered. "You carry a couple o' guns, too, I see."

"Yore sight ain't deceivin' yu."

There were professional gunmen who had to flog themselves into a fury to arrive at the point of killing; others simulated anger with the object of flurrying an opponent into a false move. Butch belonged to neither class; he slew with the cold deliberation of one pursuing his trade, and the inoffensive demeanour of his victim aroused in him merely a feeling of contempt. Sudden knew that a clash was inevitable but he would do nothing to provoke it.

"I've put ten hombres outa business an' eight of 'em toted a pair o' sixes," Butch announced loudly. "I allus call a two-gun bluff." His frowning stare fastened upon the puncher.

"Shuck yore belt an' git down on yore knees, you sonof-a--" he barked.

The insult was deadly, and every eye in the room turned on the man at whom it had been hurled, still leaning easily against the bar. Breathlessly they waited for him to speak. Tense seconds, pregnant with menace, ticked by, and then the lolling figure slowly straightened, as though to obey the shameful command.

"Gawd, he's goin' to take it," whispered a card-player.

The neighbour to whom he spoke shook his head; the narrowed, ice-cold eyes were not those of a quitter.

"Yu can go plumb to hell," the puncher said contemptuously.

Another silence, for the killer, too, had not expected defiance. Then he rasped, "I'm sendin' you on ahead."

Vicious face thrust forward, shoulders hunched, his left hand moved in the direction of his holster, but not swiftly. Sudden's right, fingers outspread, was dropping over his gun-butt when the other's right hand flashed upwards to his arm-pit, whipped a second weapon from beneath the black coat, and fired.

A woman's scream was followed by a gasp of amazement from the spectators. They had heard but one report, yet it was Butch who lurched blindly, gave at the knees, and slumped heavily to the floor. One spasmodic attempt to raise the pistol still gripped in his nerveless fingers, and that was the end. Then they noticed that blue smoke was wisping from the cowboy's left hip, and that there was a red streak along one cheek. Sudden gave a glance at the man he had been compelled to kill, sheathed his revolver, and wiped the warm smear from his smarting face.

"It ain't but a scratch," he said, when the saloon-keeper offered to tend it. "That was a cute move, goin' for the other gun; it mighty near fooled me."

Morbid curiosity brought the crowd pushing and jostling one another to get a glimpse of the dead man. Among them was Scar, who thrust a way through, took one look, and with a malicious leer at the cowboy, said: "I reckon the Chief'll want to hear o' this."

"Yu needn't to worry, Roden," Sudden said quietly. "I'll carry the news myself."

"Since when do we take orders from you?" the fellow scowled.

"From now on," the puncher retorted.

"I'll see you in--"

He was given no time to finish. Sudden took a long stride, gripped his throat, shook him till his head rocked on his shoulders, and flung him away so forcibly that a table he collided with collapsed utterly. Lying amongst the fragments, he looked up into a blood-stained face, the fierce eyes in which conveyed a plain message. Scar read it, and having no desire to die, forgot that he had a gun.

"No ideas?" the cowboy gibed. "Yo're shorely wise." He faced the evil throng. "Listen: the Chief has put me in charge--after hisself. Any one o' yu who ain't satisfied can speak up now, an' leave Hell City by sunrise."

Deliberately turning his back, he stepped to the bar. He knew that if they chose to call his bluff he could be overwhelmed in a few minutes, but he was gambling on their fear of Satan, and now, of himself. Violence was the only argument they understood, and his prompt and savage scotching of Scar's incipient mutiny would impress them more than anything else. No one spoke until that worthy arose from the debris of the table, and with a poor effort at a grin, said: "You win, Sudden; I'm stayin' put. What the Chief sez, goes, for all of us, I guess; if he's give you Butch's job, there ain't no more to say."

The others appeared to accept this decision, and the cowboy nodded to the man behind the bar.

"Good enough," he said. "The drinks are on me; we'll celebrate my promotion."

Scar drank with the rest, but Sudden had no faith in the ruffian's submission. He had remained in Hell City because he was afraid to leave it, or, more possibly, to await an opportunity of squaring his account with one who had bested him three times. The body of the gunman was removed, and the saloon soon presented its customary appearance. The puncher remained for a while, and then, having bathed the graze on his cheek, went to see Satan.

"So you--won?" was the greeting he received.

"Not much of a guess, seein' I'm here," he replied.

"Only fools guess," Satan said, his gaze dwelling on the livid mark of the killer's bullet. "He almost got you."

"I was a mite careless," Sudden admitted. "Posin' as a one-gun man an' usin' a hide-out ain't nothin' new, but it would trick some."

"Was it necessary to beat up Roden?"

"Shore, he was insolent. If I gotta handle these fellas they have to understand I can do it. Scar can figure hisself lucky not to be travellin' the one-way trail after Butch; I was in the mood."

The bullying air did not blind the bandit to the fact that this man who had beaten Butch might be a braggart, but was also dangerous, and likely to be--difficult. Yes, that was the word. Well, there were ways ... He glanced almost involuntarily at the picture behind which the dead gunman had stood only a few hours earlier. Sudden saw the look.

"Gives me the creeps, that paintin' o' yores," he remarked. "Him there with his six-shooter trained on me allatlme. D'yu mind if I put a coupla pills through his eyes, just to show him?"

"I certainly do mind," was the instant reply. "I have fondness for that canvas, it is a work of art, and bullet-holes wouldn't improve it."

Sudden laughed; he had noted the gleam of apprehension in the dull eyes, and it told him that his suspicion was correct--the Chief was well protected.

"Shucks, I was on'y joshin'," he said. "Sold them steers I stole?"

Satan looked sharply at him, but the cowboy's expression was serious. "Not yet, the beasts must be worked on first," he replied.

"I'm pretty good at blottin' brands."

"No doubt, but that can wait--the herd is in a safe place. Are you short of money?"

"Not any," Sudden assured him, adding with a grin, "Them Double K boys don't know the first thing 'bout poker."

He came away from the interview conscious of two failures. The attack on Scar had been intended, mainly, to drive the man and his intimates from Hell City, thus weakening the bandit force. His enquiry about the cattle was inspired by the hope of a hint as to their whereabouts, but Satan was giving nothing away. Well, he must find them.

Others also were concerned about the stolen stock, though they knew where it was to be found. Roden, and his three shadows, sitting round a table in the saloon, were ostensibly playing poker, but the game was but an excuse for a conference. And, naturally, Sudden was the subject of the discussion.

"There ain't room in Hell City for him an' us," Scar said. "We gotta down the--."

"Yeah, an' make a quick getaway," Squint added. "Even if he don't know--an' there ain't much he misses--the Chief will pin it on to us, an' we ain't too popular in that quartc just now."

"For which we gotta thank that cursed cowpunch," Coger said.

"We'll thank him--our own way," Scar growled. "I'd like to see Muley take the flesh off'n him in strips. The point is, we don't wanta go empty-handed."

"You said it all," Daggs agreed. "The Chief must have a lot o' coin hid up in his place. What about us interviewin' him, strictly private, an'--"