Sudden The Marshal of Lawless

"What'll friend Raven say when he sees his men workin' over the Double S brand?" Pete queried.

"I'm a heap more interested in what they're goin' to say," the other smiled. "He's gotta turn 'em down--cold."

The little man slapped his knee in delight. "Somebody'll have to do some tall lyin'," he said. "Hope they ain't takin' a day off."

He was not to be disappointed, for when--less than two hours later--they reached the hidden corral the marshal had happened upon before, the bawl of an enraged steer greeted them. From the cover of the brush rimming the basin the visitors watched Jevons and Leeson throw and tie a cow, and then the former took a running iron from the fire and bent over the prostrate beast. The pungent smell of burning hair and hide assailed their nostrils. The marshal, watching the half-breed, saw his face pale and then flush.

"Damnation, Jevons, what's the meanin' o' this?" he shouted, and spurred his horse down the slope.

Like a flash the two men turned to face him, their hands going to their guns, but they fell away when they saw the rest of the party and stood sullenly waiting. The foreman of the Double S rode forward and looked at the hog-tied steer. His expression was not pretty; that the stolen stock was not his property made no difference; it was in his charge.

"Don't need no explanation far as they's concerned, I reckon," he said, nodding grimly at the two rustlers. "Mebbe yu got somethin' to say, Raven?"

The boss of the 88 whirled upon him. "Why, damn yore eyes, Renton, yu tryin' to say I know anythin' 'bout this?" he asked.

"They're yore men, an' that's yore brand ourn is bein' changed to," the Double S man returned doggedly.

The marshal interposed. "Take their guns," he said, and when this was done, "Yu got anythin' to say, Leeson?"

"I was obeyin' orders--my foreman's," came the sulky reply.

"An' were yu obeyin' orders too, Jevons?" the marshal asked.

The man did not reply; his narrowed eyes were fixedly studying Raven, and there was a threat in them. The saloon-keeper was doing some rapid thinking. The only explanation he could make would expose Reuben Sarel as a thief, himself as a receiver of stolen property, and put an end to his hope of gaining Tonia. Moreover, these cows had been taken without Sarel's knowledge. With callous indifference, he decided that the men must be sacrificed.

"Yu want to ask these fellas anythin', Raven?" Green said.

The half-breed shook his head. "No," he replied. "When men workin' for me put my brand on other folks' cattle, I'm through. Yu can take 'em in, marshal."

"Take 'em in, hell," Renton said roughly. "We got 'em with the goods, Raven, an' they swing here an' now; they's plenty trees."

Raven's shifty glance turned to Green. "Yu can't allow that, marshal," he urged. "These men are entitled to trial, anyways."

Green detected the design. The accused men were keeping quiet because they relied upon Raven to get them out of the trouble. Taken to Lawless they would be assisted to escape from the flimsy gaol, or acquitted by a packed jury. He determined to force the issue.

"The case is open an' shut, Raven," he said sternly. "There ain't no doubt whatever. Allasame, I'll put it to the vote; there's five of yu--me an' Pete, bein' officers, don't take a hand."

The voting was a mere farce, as the marshal knew it would be--all except the saloon-keeper being in favour of the culprits being hanged forthwith. Green directed Pete and Renton to tie the hands of the rustlers behind their backs, a proceeding which brought a look of fear into Leeson's eyes, and loosened Jevons's tongue. Convinced that his employer was prepared to let him go to his death he was anxious only to bite back.

"Raven," he called sharply, "yu standin' for this?"

The saloon-keeper's face was wooden. "I've done all I can," he said. "Yu know the penalty when yu started stealin' beef."

"Good enough," the foreman snarled, and turned his mean eves on the marshal. "Yu asked just now if I was doin' this under orders? Well, I was--orders from my boss, that low-down sneak standin' there, an' I can tell you somethin' else about him too--"

"Yu lyin', double-crossin' cattle-thief!"

With the hissed words the half-breed's right hand darted to Andy's belt, there was a roar and a flash, and Jevons rocked on his feet, sagged at the knees, dropped in. a twisted heap. Twice his fingers clutched convulsively at the sand, the body writhed, and then was still. A moment of awed silence followed, and then Reriton spoke angrily:

"Yu hadn't oughta done that, Raven. Looks like yu was scared o' what he was goin' to say."

The saloon-keeper snapped round. "Who the hell are yu givin' orders to?" he shouted. "I'll do as I please, an' I--"

"Hand that gun back, pronto," the marshal cut in, and there was something in the ice-cold, level tones which brought the killer out of his frenzy. He gave Andy the weapon, and when he faced the marshal again all outward traces of his fury had disappeared.

"Sorry, boys," he apologized, "but I done a lot for that fella"--he pointed a thumb at the dead man--"an' to find him stealin' cattle from my friends an' trying to drag me into the dirty deal shore got me goin'. I'm admittin' I was wrong--oughta let him spit out his lies, I s'pose, but I lost my wool."

The explanation deceived no one, but had to be accepted. The marshal soon made his arrangements. Renton and his two men were to take their cattle away and the others would return to town.

"What about that coyote?" asked the Double S foreman, with a nod at Leeson.

"He goes with me," Green decided.

"As well for him," the cowman said grimly, and then: "I'm combin' yore ranch, Raven; I ain't satisfied this bunch is all yu've had."

The owner of the 88 shot an ugly look at him. "If yu can find any more, take 'em," he said evenly.

On the return journey to Lawless the saloon-keeper led the way, moody and alone; Pete and the prisoner--tied to his horse--followed; the marshal and Bordene brought up the rear. They had not gone far when the deputy, to whom a prolonged silence was purgatory, shot a sly glance at the ruffian riding beside him.

"Brace up, ol'-timer," he said. "Things could be wuss, yu know."

The prisoner looked at him hatefully. "Feelin' funny, huh? Well, I ain't," he growled. "Stretchin' a fella for doin' what his foreman told him to do don't seem to me noways fair."

"Shucks! yu ain't hanged yet," Pete rejoined. "Come clean, an' I'm bettin' the marshal won't be hard on yu. He ain't a bad sort, an' he knows they was on'y usin' yu."

For an instant the man's cunning little eyes flashed and then, "Dunno nothin' about it," he said woodenly.

Not until they reached town did Raven open his mouth, and then, as he got stiffly down in front of the Red Ace, he said: "Better keep this quiet for a bit--we don't want no necktie party. See yu later, marshal."

Late that evening the marshal and his deputy were in the Red Ace when the proprietor came up and greeted them with dry geniality.

"Well, Green, yu got any fresh information outa that cur Leeson?" he asked.

"No, he's a clam, that fella," Green replied. "Mebbe he'll open up when the noose is round his neck."

"A rope's a real persuader," the other agreed. "Hope you have him safe; he's got friends in town."

"He's tied, an' I got all the keys in my pocket," the marshal told him.

"Oughta be good enough," Raven returned, and passed on.

Green's glance followed him speculatively. "Pete, I'm bettin' we've lost our prisoner," he murmured. "He was laughin' at us."

And so it proved. When they reached their quarters it was to find every door locked as they had left it, but the occupant of the cell had vanished.

"Duplicate keys, an' o' course he'd have 'ern," the marshal ruefully decided. "Oughta guessed that, Pete; my head must be solid bone, right through. He's a clever devil. Gets shut of a man who might yap an' puts me in wrong with the town, damn him."

CHAPTER XXII

The news of the rustling--which could not be concealed for long--with the death of Jevons and the subsequent escape of his companion in the crime, soon faded out in favour of a bigger sensation. The marshal was the first to hear of this, and from the man who produced it. Two days after the disappearance of Leeson he met the half-breed emerging from the bank.

"Just the fella I wanted to see," Raven began. "No, I ain't seen Potter, but the doc. tell me that he's still unconscious an' there can't be much hope of his comin' round. It's about him I'm goin' to talk to yu."

Once more the marshal found himself seated in the little room adjoining the bar. Raven pushed forward a box of cigars, but the visitor preferred to roll himself a cigarette, watching his host the while. The saloon-keeper was too friendly; he appeared to be very pleased with himself, and there was a glint of sneering satisfaction in his foxy eyes.

"Yu know, o' course, marshal, that the bank is cleaned complete--there won't be a peso for anybody?" he began. "It comes mighty near bein' a knockout blow for the town; a good few citizens have lost all their savin's an' some o' the traders'll find it hard to carry on. Ain't that so?"

"Shore is."

"Well, I got a big interest in Lawless an' I aim to have a bigger one, so it don't suit me that the better class o' citizen--the savin', workin' kind--should go broke. Likewise, there's another thing: when Potter first come here he hadn't much capital. I took a shine to the fella, an' reckonin' a bank was wanted, I backed him. It was his lay-out, yu understand--I didn't have no share, but I lent him money. Oh, I got it back--he's a square shooter, is Potter--an' all I stand to lose is what I had there when the robbery took place. So I feel sort responsible, yu savvy?"

The visitor nodded, wondering where all this was leading to.

"That bein' so, I'm goin' to take over the bank, makin' good the losses outa my own pocket. If Potter gets well, I'll hand his business back to him in good shape, an' he can repay me when he's able; if he don't recover, I go on runnin' it. What yu think o' the idea?"

If the saloon-keeper had hoped to surprise the marshal he certainly succeeded; for a moment Green stared at him in frank amazement; somehow, the picture of Seth Raven as a philanthropist would not materialize.

"It's certainly a plenty generous proposition," he said at last. "It shore oughta make yu popular."

There was a sardonic touch in the concluding words, and he watched Raven narrowly as he spoke; but the other man was playing his cards close and gave no sign, though inwardly he cursed the marshal for having immediately hit the mark. That individual tried another roving shot.

"Reckon it'll be good news for Andy Bordene."

Again it failed to produce any outward effect; the half-breed's sallow face was devoid of expression as he replied:

"Whatever the books show that the bank owes will be met. I've got Potter's clerk goin' through 'em now. It'll cost a goodish bit, an' there'll be some who'll say I'm on'y lendin' the money an' it'll come back via the Red Ace."

When the marshal returned to his office he found Bordene smoking and chatting with Barsay. The latter, quick to note the storm-signals in his, friend's face, promptly asked a question:

"What yu got yore ears set back for? The Vulture been tryin' to bulldoze yu?"

The marshal grinned widely. "That's no way to speak to yore boss, an' it shows a want o' proper respect for the town's biggest benefactor," he replied.

"How long has Raven been a benefactor?" Andy enquired.

The marshal told them of the saloon-keeper's intentions and the eyes of both men bulged.

"If he does that I'll have to alter some o' my ideas about Seth," Andy commented, a visible relief in his tone. "Durned if I can see why he's doin' it though."

"It's plain enough," the marshal pointed out. "Makes him solid with the town; nobody's goin' to accuse him o' bein' in on that rustlin' after this. Don't vu be glad too soon, Andy; I've a hunch there's a string tied to it far as yo're concerned."

The prediction proved correct. Entering the Red Ace that evening, Andy found the place packed. The news of the saloonkeeper's intended generosity had spread through Lawless like wildfire, and not only those directly affected, but nearly every other dweller, wanted to see the man who was about to give away thousands of dollars.

Standing with his back to the bar, the half-breed's black eyes gleamed with triumph as he received the thanks and homage of the throng. A contemptuous pride filled him and his narrow, warped soul sneered at and despised every one of them. Then came the man he hated most of all, who stood in the way to his cherished ambition. Bordene walked straight up to him.

"This is a mighty fine thing yo're doin', Seth," he began. "I gotta thank yu."

"What for?" asked the half-breed, with unsmiling lips, though his joy was hard to hide; this was the moment he had been lusting for.

The cold query took the young man aback. "Why, I understand yo're re-openin' the bank an' givin' every customer the balance held when the robbery took place," he replied.

"That's correct," Raven said. "I've got a list o' the losses; your account don't show no balance."

"But I gave Potter thirty thousand just before I went after Moraga," Andy protested. "Yu were there."

"I heard yu say somethin' about it, an' that's all," Raven retorted. "Yu might 'a' changed yore mind. Anyways, there's no record in the books, an' the clerk knows nothin' of it."

"He warn't present," Andy said. "I was in such a tear that I just gave Potter the notes an' didn't wait for a receipt or anythin', Damn it all, Seth, yu don't think I'd lie to yu?"

The half-breed shrugged his shoulders. "A man who's broke'll do a deal for thirty thousand," he said insolently, and when he saw the rancher's jaw tighten, he added, "Mebbe Potter took a chance on yore not comin' back. All I know is the bank ain't liable. Another thing, this business is goin' to cost me a lot, an' I want that mortgage on the Box B redeemed pretty prompt."

"Knowin' damn well that I can't do it," the rancher said angrily.

"I dunno nothin' about yore affairs, an' I ain't carin'," the saloon-keeper replied.

It did not need the hard, merciless tone nor the sneering look to convince the cowman that any appeal would be useless. When he spoke again his voice was low, vibrant :

"Yu seem to hold the cards, but I reckon the deck was stacked. Whatever you want belongin' to me yu'll have to fight for, Raven."

For a long moment the two men faced one another, brown eyes clashing with beady black ones. The half-breed was the first to turn away, silently cursing the mother who bore him. He sent a venomous glance after the young man as he left the bar.

"I'll make yu pay to the last cent," he muttered. "I'll take yore ranch, yore girl, an' break yore damned heart."

But Bordene had spoilt his evening; he could not forget that, for all his popularity, he had once again quailed under the gaze of a hated white.

* * *

Renton's return to the Double S with the stolen steers and his story of what had happened produced an extraordinary revolution in the mind of Reuben Sarel. Shame at the thought that he had allowed himself to be used by such a man as Raven overrode every other consideration.

"The dirty dawg oughta be strung up," he grated, and the foreman was amazed at the savage tone of his usually mild and easy-going manager.

"Meanin' Jevons?" he asked.

"Meanin' his thievin' boss, who killed him to close his mouth," retorted Sarel.

"Which is my sentiments to a dot," the foreman agreed. "But thinkin' an' provin' is two different things."

Reuben nodded gloomily and Renton left him pacing up and down the veranda. Absorbed in his thoughts, he did not notice that Tonia was watching him with a mischievous smile.

"So glad you've made up your mind to do it at last," she said.

Sarel spun round, his fat face flushing. Hang it, had the girl read his thoughts? But the merry, affectionate look told him this could not be.

"To do what, Tonia?" he asked.

"Take that exercise you need, of course," she laughed. "I notice you don't go far from a chair though."

Reuben dropped wearily into a seat. "Quit yore foolin', girl, an' sit," he said. "I got somethin' serious to tell yu." There was an awkward pause and then he blurted out, "I've been double-crossin' yu, Tonia. No, don't say nothin'--just listen."

Head down, drooping in his chair, he told the whole sordid story. How he had got deeper and deeper in debt, and, realizing the hopelessness of ever being able to pay, had yielded to his creditor's crafty offer to take Double S cattle.

"I was allus meanin' to pay yu back, lass, but the cussed luck wouldn't change, an' I on'y got mired worse'n before," he pleaded. "An' with that devil threatenin' to tell you..."

His voice tailed away miserably, and he could not look at her. Tonia rose and put an arm round his neck.

"Yu dear old silly, as if I care a hoot about the stupid cows," she soothed. "Why didn't you tell me and save yourself all these months of worry? I suppose that was why you thought that cur would make a good husband for me?"

"I never thought that, girl, but he had me roped," Reuben replied. "I knew I'd oughta throw him outa the place, but I ain't the man yore father was. I've been a poor sorta guardian."

"You've been very good to me," she said, "and you're not to think anything different. As for Mister Raven--" she stopped suddenly and her cheeks grew rosy. "Andy's coming, and he looks as though he'd been washed and hung out to dry."

The simile was not inapt, for Bordene sat draped over his saddle, chin on chest. At the ranch-house he got down listlessly, threw the reins, and stepped heavily forward. He appeared a tired and dispirited man, but at the sight of the girl he forced a smile to his drawn lips.

"Howdy, folks," he greeted.

His attempted gaiety did not deceive the girl. "What's the matter, Andy?" she asked quietly.

The boy smiled bitterly. "Nothin' the matter, Tonia, 'cept we gotta change that job yu were goin' to give me into one o' ridin' for yu."

"What rubbish vu kids talkin'?" the fat man enquired. "Tryin' to tell us yu lost yore ranch, Andy?"

"I reckon it amounts to just that," he replied dully, and went on to tell of Fate's final blow to his hopes. They had heard of the robbery, but had not known that Andy was deeply affected. Raven's bid for popularity was news, and they stared open-eyed at Bordene when he related his conversation with the saloonkeeper. "I paid the money to Potter, an' what he did with it the Lord on'y knows," he said in conclusion. "O' course, I was dumb to hand it to him thataway, but--"

Tonia nodded understandingly, and her look was a caress. "It was because I was in danger, Andy, wasn't it?" she said. "Since Raven holds your mortgage, it would naturally be inconvenient to hand you the money to redeem it, and he couldn't play favourites, so I am not surprised there is no record in the bank books."

The two men looked at her. "That's sound reasonin', but could he get at 'em?" Sarel asked.

"Of course he could--he'd be the first sent for, in the marshal's absence," Tonia pointed out. "And, anyway, he could buy the soul of that clerk of Potter's for a few dollars."

"I'm bettin' yo're right, Tonia, but what can we do?" Andy said. "He's got the town eatin' outa his hand now." The girl smiled at him. "I'm going to pay off your mortgage, Andy; the Double S will be good enough security for that amount."

"No, I won't have you involved in this," the young man protested. "I'd sooner let him have the ranch."

Sarel slapped his knee in delight. "She's right, boy," he cried. "The Box B at twice the sum is a bargain; why shouldn't Tonia have it instead o' that schemin' skunk, huh? On'y point is, where we goin' to borry that much coin?"

"From the bank at Sweetwater," Tonia told him. "It's no use your saying anything, Andy; I am going to beat that beast if it takes every dollar I possess."

But, as they were soon to learn, their enemy had a card up his sleeve, one powerful enough to shatter their hopes and cast them utterly in the dust.

CHAPTER XXIII

Breakfast was over at the Double S, and Reuben Sarel had climbed into the buckboard and set out to interview the manager of the Sweetwater bank. Tonia, having seen him off, went about her household duties. She was in the midst of a gay little song when a rattle of hoofs outside brought her to the veranda. The song ceased and her face hardened when she saw the lank, stooping figure of the saloon-keeper, head forward, his coat-tails suggesting the wings of the carrion-eating bird to which men likened him.

"Mornin', Tonia, yo're lookin' right peart," he commenced. "Reub around?"

"My uncle has gone to Sweetwater," she replied, flushing at the caller's familiar manner.

"Well, I guess we can get along without him--two's company, ain't it?" he said with a smirk, as, not waiting for an invitation, he stepped on the veranda and sat down.

"If your business is with my uncle--" she began.

"Take a seat, Tonia. My business--though I shore wouldn't call it that--is with yu," the visitor told her. "An' I'm bettin' yu can guess what it is."

The girl sat down. "I haven't the remotest idea," she said.

"I've allus understood that a pretty gal is wise when a fella comes a-courtin'," he leered.

"Courting? You?" Tonia cried. He was right, she had known, but now that the thing had actually happened, the enormity of it staggered her.

"Why not? I ain't so old," he urged. "See here, girl, I don't have the trick o' pretty speeches, but I'm askin' yu to marry me. As my wife yu'll be somebody; I got the dollars."

"You can leave that entirely out of it," Tonia said quietly. "For the rest, I don't like you, Air. Raven, and I am already promised."

"To Andy Bordene, huh?--the half-wit who, when I say the word, won't be worth ten cents."

"And even then preferable to one who makes his money by selling poison to poor fools, cheating at cards, and stealing other folks' cattle," she flamed.

The half-breed's yellow cheeks burned redly at the accusation, and his little eyes were alight with rage as he saw his hopes go glimmering. But she was lovely and desirable even in her anger, and he fought to control the passion that devoured him.

"So yu think I'm a rustler, huh?" he said. "Well, I'll tell yu somethin'. When I shot Jevons, it was for yore sake. The cattle he was charged with stealin' were handed over, on the quiet, by yore manager."

"Nothing of the kind. The cattle were mine, and he had my permission to take them," she said hotly.

"After he had crawfished, mebbe," the man said shrewdly. "Shucks! war-talk won't get us anywheres. What yu gotta understand is that it depends on yu whether Bordene gits another chance."

To his astonishment she laughed outright. "I am quite aware of it," was her reply. "That is why Uncle Reuben has gone to Sweetwater."

The merriment and triumphant tone brought a deeper scowl on the face of the unwelcome suitor, but, to her chagrin, he showed no discomfiture. On the contrary, a wintry smile distorted his thin lips.

"If he's expectin' to git a loan at the bank on the Double S he's due for a disappointment," he stated.

It was now Tonia's turn to be surprised. "I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Yu will," he sneered, and added harshly. "Look here, girl, yu've been takin' a middlin' high hand with me, an' so far I've let you run on the rope. But the rope's there, an' it's time yu took a tumble." He waved a hand at the range lying before them. "Yu think yu own all this?" he asked, and, when she nodded, "Well, yu don't, an' that's why the Sweetwater bank won't lend yu money on it."

"You must be crazy," Tonia said.

He grinned wolfishly. "Not any." He drew a paper from his pocket. "This is a deed o' mortgage on the Double S, executed by yore father shortly afore he--died, an' given to me as security for sixty thousand dollars lent by me. Look for yourself."

He held the document out and she saw that he was speaking the truth. For a moment the revelation stunned her and then she rallied.

"That is not my father's writing."

"No, Potter drew it up an' witnessed yore dad's signature. Nothin' crooked 'bout that, huh?"

She could find no answer; the news had hit her like a landslide, sweeping away all hope. She forced herself to speak:

"Why have you kept silent about this?"

"Didn't wanta worry yu, Tonia," he replied, and his voice was less harsh. "Hoped I'd git the Double S in a pleasanter way, an' tear this up." He tapped the deed. "I'm still hopin'," he added.

Tonia drew herself up, and the look that had been her father's shone in her steady eyes.

"Please remember that I am 'Tonia' only to my friends, Mr. Raven," she reminded. "As for your proposal, why I'd sooner marry a Gila monster."

The bitter scorn and contempt stung him like a knotted whiplash, rousing the dormant savage in his nature. Leaping to his feet, his face a mask of fury, he poured out a stream of threats and curses, his clenched fist raised as though to strike her.

"Yu damned Jezebel," he raved, "I'll tame yu--I'll lower yore pride. I'll get--"

"Outta here, if yo're wise."

An iron hand seized his collar, shook him like a rat, and flung him backwards so violently that he catapulted over the veranda rail and spread-eagled, face downwards, in the dust. Looking up, he saw the marshal standing above him, a gun in his hand, and death in his eyes. Visiting Renton, he had walked up from the bunk-house and come upon the scene unobserved.

"Fade, yu yellow dawg," Green rasped, and kicked the man's hat towards him. "If I catch yu speakin' to Miss Sarel again I'll make yu dumb for keeps. Now, climb that bronc and vamoose; yu don't improve the scenery, none whatever."

Seth Raven picked up his hat, dusted himself, and moved towards his mount. For an instant he glanced at the girl as though about to speak, but the marshal was not one to utter idle threats and he thought better of it. Only when he was some hundreds of yards away did he turn and shake a furious fist at them. The marshal grinned as he saw the action.

"Played it safe, didn't he?" he said. "What's the coyote been doin' to upset yu, Miss Sarel?"

"He wants to marry me," she told him.

"Wish I'd broken his neck," Green said fervently. "I reckon yu set him back some."

"I said I'd rather marry a Gila," she confessed, a glint of a smile lightening her woebegone face.

"Which shorely showed yore good taste," the marshal laughed. "Well, I'm bettin' he won't bother yu no more." . "But he will--both Andy and myself are in his clutches," she said miserably, and related the rest of her conversation with Raven. The marshal's face lengthened.

"That's bad--that's awful bad," he admitted, when he had heard it all. "No reason to doubt the genuineness o' that paper he showed yu, I s'pose?"

"It looked like Daddy's signature."

"Potter is the king-pin," Green mused. "If he could speak--"

"I'm sorry to have made trouble for you."

"Don't yu worry yore head about that. I never was a popular fella anyways. I'm on my way to Sweetwater to see Strade. Keep a-smilin'; Raven ain't got yore ranch yet."

She watched him swing up into the saddle with the easy grace of the born horseman, and ride away. Three times this long, lithe puncher, with his slow Southern drawl and level, smiling eyes, had, like a veritable knight of the plains, come to her rescue, and it heartened her to know that he was on her side. Nevertheless,, the future looked bleak enough, and the mere thought of losing the home she loved brought a lump into her throat.

* * *

As the marshal rode along the street of Sweetwater a shabby, hard-featured woman came out of a store, and at the sight of him, stood staring.

"Say, mister, who's that fella?" she asked of a passer-by.

The Parson, for he it was chance had thrown in her way, pulled up and eyed her curiously. "Town marshal o' Lawless--calls hisself Green," he replied. "Why, do yu know him?"

"Not by name," she said. "Over to Texas they used to call him Sudden."

The passer-by became alert. "The outlaw?" he queried.

The woman nodded. "He had a hard reputation, but I reckon it warn't deserved; he did me a mighty good turn onct, an' I've heard of others."

Pardoe thought rapidly. "Unless yu wanta do him a mighty bad turn yu'll keep mum 'bout him," he urged. "It's all right with me--I ain't sayin' a word; but if folks here found out who he is they'd hang him quicker'n scat."

"My land, mister, I'm obliged to yu for the warnin'," she said earnestly. "Yu can reckon me dumb, if I am a woman. I wouldn't have harm come to him through me for all the gold in Mexico; he's a good fella, say what they like."

The gambler's cunning eyes watched her hurry away, and saw the subject of their conversation enter the sheriff's office. Then he slid into the nearest saloon, bought a drink, and sat down to think things over, keeping a wary eye on the sheriff's door.

"If I take him in Raven will be tickled to death," he reasoned. "Make me marshal, likely, and mebbe I'll find where he cached the plunder."

The matter satisfactorily decided, he absorbed another drink, and departed by the back door to make the necessary preparations.

* * *

The sheriff leaned back in his chair and regarded his visitor thoughtfully. He had just heard the latest news from Lawless, and his frown showed that he did not like it.

"Allus had doubts 'bout Raven--dunno why--'count of his mixed blood, I reckon; sooner trust an honest-to-God Injun myself," he said. "He certainly 'pears to have them two ranchers roped."

Green asked an apparently irrelevant question: "Was it ever found out who bumped off Anthony Sarel?"

The sheriff shook his head. "No evidence a-tall," he replied. "The body warn't robbed an' he had no known enemies; Tony was a good fella an' well liked."

"Where was Raven at the time?"

"Couldn't say--no one knowed quite when the killin' took place. Tony left town 'bout midday an' he warn't found till evenin', when one o' his outfit happened on him. Yu don't think--?"

"I'm shootin' in the dark; but, holdin' that mortgage, he had a good reason for wantin' Sarel out o' the way, an' he wasn't in town when the stage was held up nor when Bordene was bushwhacked. Then there's the hoss."

"What hoss?" the sheriff enquired.

Green told of the tracking of Andrew Bordene's murderer over the Border and back again, and the finding of the hidden black in the little valley. Strade's eyebrows went up.

"Odd, that," he admitted. "Near the 88 too. Yu figure that Raven is yore double?"

"Can't go as far as that, but yu gotta allow that if he's tryin' to corral the ranches, Sudden the Second has helped him a whole lot. O' course, it might be someone workin' for him. I thought o' Leeson but he ain't got the guts, an' Jevons--wish I knew what he was goin' to tell us."

"Five minutes' talk with Potter would clear the air some, I'm thinkin'."

"That's the cussed luck of it--every leak stopped," the marshal grumbled, and suddenly sat up. "Hell's bells, he mighta robbed the bank hisself."

"But he's returnin' the money," the sheriff protested.

"Not Andy's thirty thousand, the loss of which practically gives Raven the Box B," Green pointed out. "An' if Potter was gettin' dangerous--" He ruminated for a moment. "It was on'y Raven who saw a fella on a black hoss sneakin' outa town that night."

The sheriff whistled softly. "Puttin' her thataway, it seems you might be right," he agreed. "But provin' it is somethin' else."

The marshal nodded moodily. "Most o' them damn fools in Lawless wouldn't hear a word against him just now. Can yu imagine Raven givin' money away?"

"He's gettin' good value," Strade said. "He'd sell what he might call his soul for power. As an Injun, he'd 'a' been chief of his tribe, or nothin'; that's the kind o' man he is." Which showed that the sheriff had gauged the saloon-keeper correctly without divining the basic hatred behind his obsession. "Wonder why he made yu marshal?"

"He took it that bein' down an' out I'd dance to his tune," Green replied. "He pretty near said it, an' mebbe I didn't contradict him."

"Yu'll need to watch out now yu've shown yore hand," Strade warned.

"Yu don't have to tell me that," the marshal said grimly. "I saw Jevons die."

The sheriff held out his hand. "So long, yu blame' outlaw," he smiled ."Send when you want me. By the way, there's a Lawless man here to-day--they call him the 'Parson.' Know him?"

"Yeah, tin-horn card-sharp," Green said scornfully. "He ain't dangerous--even at poker."

It would have certainly surprised him to know that the man who was not "dangerous" was even then riding the trail to Lawless, seeking diligently the best place to "hole up" and wait with a levelled gun for the "outlaw" who had, as he believed, despoiled him. He found what he wanted where the trail traversed a tiny hollow, the sides of which were masked by brush sufficiently high and dense to cover both man and mount. Selecting a spot to his liking, the bushwhacker squatted down, his rifle ready, his cold, expectant gaze on the road to Sweetwater.

Half an hour passed and he heard the dull thud of hoofs again; this time there could be no mistake. The big, black horse was moving at a fast lope, his rider sitting slackly in the saddle, deep in thought. Now that the moment had come the gambler's nervousness left him. Planting his feet firmly, he trained his weapon on a point in the trail immediately opposite and when the horseman reached it, fired. The marshal, jarred out of his meditations by the crash of the report and the passage of a slug through his hat, snatched out a gun, drove a bullet into the puff of smoke in the brush, and, realizing the futility of argument, spurred the black. His chance shot, though it did no more than cut a furrow in the bushwhacker's cheek, disconcerted him so much that by the time he was ready to fire again horse and rider were a diminishing dot on the trail.

"Missed him, my God!" swore the disappointed killer. "An' he damn near got me too." He wiped the blood from his face and swore again at the smart. "Have to let Seth handle it, after all," he went on. "But I ain't startin' yet; he'll mebbe wait for me."

The marshal had no intention of doing so; he was pushing for Lawless at the best speed the big, knotted muscles of the black could produce. He knew what his chances were against a hidden adversary and was not disposed to take them.

"It ain't often I play safe, Nig," he told his horse, "but this is one time, I reckon, when I gotta copper a bet."

CHAPTER XXIV

Some two hours after the marshal, Pardoe effected an inconspicuous return to Lawless and made his way to the Red Ace. He was tired, for he had not dared to keep to the trail, and a devious route had proved exhausting. Having first peeped in and ascertained that Green was not present, he entered the bar.

"Where's the boss?" he asked.

"In his room, an', if yore business ain't pressin', I'd postpone it," Jude told him. "He's 'bout as sociable as a grizzly b'ar with the bellyache."

Pardoe stepped to the door of the office, opened it, and walked in. The saloon-keeper was sitting in the chair behind the desk, chin on his chest. Beneath his frowning brows his narrowed eyes shot a look of anger at the intruder.

"What the hell du yu want?" he growled. "I told that fool out there--"

"Jude tried to head me off, but I had to see you," Pardoe replied.

"Come to pay back that five hundred?" Raven asked sneeringly.

The taunt did not have the effect he intended, for the gambler achieved the nearest he could to a smile. "Yeah," he said. "What I gotta tell yu oughta be worth that--an' more."

"I'm the judge o' that," was the retort. "Spill it."

Pardoe placed his hat on the desk, sat down, and helped himself to a cigar. When he had lighted it to his satisfaction he said coolly:

"The marshal ain't no particular pet o' yores, is he?"

"I hate him," the half-breed hissed.

"Seen him visitin' the sheriff in Sweetwater to-day," Pardoe went on. "Yu send him there?"

"No," snapped the other. "But I'm goin' to send him to visit the Devil one day."

The gambler grinned. "Odd that. I had the same idea--waited for him on the back trail, but I missed him. He's shore lucky."

"Lucky? You musta been drunk," Raven said angrily. And then, as another phase of the incident struck him, "What yu wanta plug him for?"

"Don't like the jigger, for one thing, an' yu can add to that he's holdin' down a job I could fill pretty comfortable my own self," Pardoe explained.

"It ain't one for folk as miss," the half-breed sneered. "An' seein' yu did, there's no vacancy."

The biting tone left the other unmoved; he was sure of his triumph. "There will be soon," he said quietly. "See here, Seth; the whole blame' country will have the laugh on Lawless when what I've found out in Sweetwater to-day gets around; the marshal has shore run a raw blazer on yu an' this township. Do I git his job if I wise yu up?" Raven nodded, and the gambler went on: "Do yu know what they call yore marshal over to Texas?"

"How the hell should I?" Raven enquired.

Pardoe laughed maliciously. "Yu wouldn't, o' course. Well, he's known there as 'Sudden,' the outlaw."

The half-breed sprang to his feet. "What?" he cried, and, with an incredulous shrug, "Yu been feedin' on loco-weed, ain't yu?"

"It's true enough," Pardoe assured him, and told how he had come by the information.

"Mebbe she's mistook," Raven doubted, but his eyes glistened with satisfaction.

The gambler shook his head. "She ain't; I remember him myself now. Knowed I'd seen him afore, but couldn't fix him. No, sir, he's the one an' only original Sudden, an' yu may lay to it."

The phrase brought a half-grin to Raven's face, and a point to decide. Pardoe did not know that since the marshal was undoubtedly in Lawless when the stage was robbed there must be a second "Sudden" in the field. This was the reason for his enmity--he believed Green had stolen his money, and it suited the saloon-keeper that he should go on thinking so.

"We've got him--cold," the saloon-keeper exulted. "Thisyer town will stand up on its hindlegs an' howl when it learns how he's razzle-dazzled it, an' it'll howl for blood too."

"One thing, he couldn't 'a' done the bank job," Pardoe said.

Raven laughed aloud. "He could, an', by God! I believe he did," he cried. "If not, why didn't he stay with the rest of 'em at the Box B that night?"

"It'll be a shock for Strade."

"Yo're shoutin'--an' for some others. I reckon Lawless will take notice when I speak, after this."

"Yu'll be a big man, Seth," the gambler offered, a shade of envy in his tone.

"Yu betcha," the saloon-keeper agreed. "Things is comin' my way, Pardoe, an' I shan't forget anyone what helped me. Now yu keep this strictly behind yore teeth for now. We're holdin' a winnin' hand; I gotta think out the best way to play it."

"I reckon yo're just as pleased I missed him, Seth?"

"Pleased, Parson?" Raven repeated. "If yu'd wiped him out I'd never 'a' forgiven yu. Death thataway ain't nothin'. It's when yo're young an' strong, full o' the lust of life, an' yu have to wait for the moment yu know it'll be taken from you... An' that ain't no dream--now," Seth returned. "But keep yore face closed. Sabe?"

The Parson nodded and went out. When the door had closed behind him the saloon-keeper gave free rein to his exultation.

"Yu were the one card I wanted to fill my hand, Mister Sudden, or Green, or whatever yore damn name is," he cried.

"With yu cinched, I've got the rest of 'em like this." He spread out his hand, closing the talon-like fingers slowly. "Gotta get busy," he went on. "To start with, we'll sent for Strade; I'll enjoy givin' him a jolt." He scribbled a note to the sheriff and went in search of a messenger.

* * *

In the middle of the night the marshal and his deputy suddenly awakened to find the room full of men. By the light of a lantern someone was holding aloft, they could see that the intruders were Raven, The Parson, and a number of the "hardest" denizens of the town. Every man of them, save the saloonkeeper, had his gun out, and the expressions on the scowling faces showed that the threat was no vain one. Green sat up, making no attempt to reach his weapons.

"What's the trouble, Raven? Yu wantin' me?" he asked coolly.

"Not now--we got yu," the half-breed jeered. "Reach for the roof, both o' yu, an' keep on doin' it."

Realizing that they had no option, the two men obeyed. The marshal had no idea what it all meant, but he saw that, for the moment, he was powerless; Seth Raven held the cards. "If this is a joke--" he began.

The harsh merriment of the other stopped him. "Yu got it," Raven said. "Just a little joke to square off for the one yu plastered on this town; on'y the last laugh is the best, an' we're goin' to have that. Git their guns an' search out that damn redskin." This to his followers.

"That's no way to speak o' yore relations," Pete put in.

For an instant Raven's eyes glared murder, and then, with a tremendous effort of will, he regained control of himself.

"An' hang him when yu find him," he ordered.

Two of the men searched the place and returned with the news that the Indian was not to be found. Raven turned savagely on Pete.

"Where is he?"

The plump little puncher grinned cheerfully as he replied, "Yore guess is as good as mine, brother; he was in the shack when we turned in, so he musta lit out when yu come. P'r'aps he don't like mongrels any more'n we do."

This second reminder of his ignoble origin brought the fury back into the half-breed's face, and his voice was pregnant with it:

"Yu'll pay for that to-morrow--pay in full. I'll make yu wish yu'd never been born."

"Shucks! that's somethin' you can't do," the deputy returned easily. "Whatever happens to-morrow, I've had a middlin' good time up to now."

Raven stalked to the door.

"Watch the place all round, an' if they try to git out shoot 'em down," he ordered.

When they were alone again, Pete rolled and lighted a smoke. "What's at the back o' this caper, Jim?" he asked.

"Haven't a notion," the marshal replied. "Whyfor must yu go baitin' him an' get yoreself in bad? It's my hair he's after."

"Hell, I ain't takin' no backwash from trash like him," the little man responded. "An' when I throw in with a fella it's to the finish."

"Yo're several sorts o' a damn fool, but--I'm thankin' yu," Green told him.

"Yu reckon they're goin' to hang us?" the deputy asked.

"Well, Raven's natural instincts would suggest somethin' more lingerin', but I doubt if even the roughnecks o' Lawless would stand for torture, so he'll string us up the stupidest way," Green said, and added: "Well, I'm a-goin' to hit the hay; looks like we're in for a busy day."

In a little while his steady breathing showed that he was asleep. Pete was not so fortunate; for an hour he lay staring into the darkness, thinking of what was to come.

"He's the coolest cuss I ever met up with," he muttered. "Wonder where than damn Injun slid to? Bet he's workin' sixty minits to the hour; he don't like Raven neither."

He stole to the window and peered out. In the faint, diffused light of the stars he could see the blurred form of a man, carrying a rifle, pacing slowly to and fro. Presently another joined him.

Pete knew the men: toughs, both of them, belonging to that mysterious portion of the community the members of which never appeared to work but always had money for drink and cards.

"Pete," came a whisper.

The deputy spun round to find Green sitting up, and standing near was the familiar form of Black Feather. The Indian, it appeared, divining that Raven and his men spelt trouble, had slipped out of the window of. the kitchen, and, finding the place surrounded, climbed to the flat roof of the shack. As soon as the coast was comparatively clear he had dropped on one of the guards, knocked him senseless with his gun-butt, and re-entered the building.

"Good work. Black Feather heap big chief," Pete commented. "What do we do now, Jim?"

"Go out the way he come in, get out hosses, an' head for the Box B," the marshal decided.

According to the redskin, there were only four guards. The one on the kitchen side had already been disposed of; the man at the back was their danger. The marshal devised a plan. Cautioning the others to await his signal, he climbed out and helped himself to the revolver off the still form lying in the shadow of the wall. Then he walked towards the rear of the building. In a few moments a man appeared dimly in the gloom, approaching him.

"All quiet, yore side?" the stranger queried.

The voice told the marshal who it was. "Shore, Parson," he mumbled. "There's on'y one thing--"

"What's that?" asked the other, and came closer.

The moment he was near enough the marshal leapt, his fingers closing round the man's throat and choking the cry of alarm before it was born. The steady, strangling pressure soon reduced the victim to helplessness and a tap from the marshal's pistol-barrel tumbled him, a limp heap, to the ground. His sombrero deadened both, the noise and force of the blow, but Pardoe would be harmless for some time. Having ascertained this, and collected the fallen man's belt, which to his great content he found to be his own, the marshal gave the signal. Silently they stole to the Red Ace corral, secured their horses, and started for the Box B. When they were safely on their way Pete emitted a chuckle.

"I'm bettin' that Raven person will be a good one to steer clear of to-day," he opined.

In the pale light of the dawn Green looked at the little man and laughed. "Sorry you feel like that, Tubby," he said. "We're goin' to see him." Then, noting the other's bewilderment, he added, "Did yu allow I'd run away?"

"Huh!" Pete snorted. "I claim to be as plucky as the next fella, but I'd run from a rope every time. Dancin' on nothin' never did strike me as humorsome."

"Mebbe Raven'll reconsider them projects if we go back with the Box B an' Double S outfits behind us," Green suggested.

"Make a difference, o' course," Pete admitted. "But there's a jag o' men in that town."

"Some of 'em friends of ourn," the marshal reminded.

The deputy subsided, but he was not satisfied; it seemed to him nothing short of madness to go back to Lawless, and when they reached the Box B he again protested, only to find Andy on the marshal's side.

"Shore we'll go with yu," the rancher cried. "That bird is flyin' too high an' it's time his pin-feathers was trimmed. Hey, Rusty, round up some o' the boys, an' tell 'em to come loaded for trouble."

During breakfast Andy got the whole story of the previous day's happenings, and his face grew stormy when he heard of the hold Raven claimed to have on the Double S.

"Throw Tonia out, will he, the dirty hound? Not while I can pull a trigger," he growled. "I'm obliged to yu again, marshal, but I wish yu'd broken his damned neck."

Accompanied by Rusty and half a dozen well-armed riders, they made for the Double S, and since they wasted no time on the trip, they arrived before the men had dispersed to their different duties. Tonia met them at the door with a look of relief which her first words explained.

"When I saw you in the distance I thought it was that man coming to turn us out," she said.

"We're goin' to turn him out, or, anyways, show him where he gets off," Andy told her grimly, and related what had happened to the marshal. "We thought Renton an' some o' yore boys might like to come along."

"Yu bet they will, an' I'll make another," bellowed Reuben Sarel from the veranda, adding, to a passing cowboy, "Yu, Lafe, push them broncs in the buckboard an' send Renton here."

The foreman made no comment when he heard the story, but his lips clamped in a hard line as he turned away, and when he reappeared six riders followed him.

"Gotta leave the rest to look after things an' Miss Tonia," he explained.

"You needn't worry about Miss Tonia--she's going too," his mistress announced calmly, and shook a pretty but obstinate head to all their protests. "It is partly on my account that you are going," she pointed out. "Some of you may get hurt and then I'll be of use."

She was looking at Andy as she spoke, and that settled the matter so far as he was concerned. The marshal clinched it by deciding that she would be as safe with them as anywhere else.

They set out at once, the buckboard leading, with Green beside it, followed by Andy and Tonia, with the rest of the party strung out behind. The cowboys had not the whole of the story, but they knew that Raven was trying to get their respective ranches, and that was enough; whether he had any claim to them was beside the question; they were loyal to their owners, and they did not like the saloon-keeper. Therefore they rode gaily on an errand which might mean death for any one of them, but beneath their banter was a note of stern purpose.

"Reckon we'll put a light to the Red Ace an' chase that bastard redskin back to his wigwam," Rusty remarked.

"Shucks! Ain't there no trees in Lawless?" drawled a Double S man, whose deliberation in speech and movement had long ago earned him a nickname.

"Good for yu, Lightnin'," approved another. "I dunno what the marshal aims to do, but I'm with him, all the way."

Truth to tell, the marshal did not know himself, and confessed as much when Sarel put the question.

"I'm guessin' that arrestin' Pete an' me last night was just a bluff, an' I'm goin' to call it," he said. "It'll be a showdown, an' I ain't ready, but he's forced my hand."

"Seth's crookeder than a cow's hindleg," Sarel observed. "He's had me by the short hair a long time past, but now I ain't carin' providin' Tonia don't suffer."

The marshal nodded. He had a fairly accurate idea of what the other was referring to, and he looked at him with a newborn respect. There was something of his more virile brother in the fat man after all.

CHAPTER XXV

They arrived at Lawless to find the street empty save for a few loafers outside the Red Ace. One of these dived headlong into the saloon at the sight of them.

Andy, the girl, and Green rode on to Durley's and met the proprietor of the Rest House at the door. His eyebrows rose at the sight of them.

"The old girl'll be pleased to death to see yu, miss," he said to Tonia, and when she had gone into the house, "Ain't tired o' life, are you, marshal?"

"Not that yu'd notice," the officer replied carelessly. "Why?"

Durley spat in disgust. "Yu must be--to come back," he retorted. "Raven's as mad as a teased tarantula, an' he's turned most o' the town agin yu. Claims to have got the goods on yu for fair, though I dunno how. There's a meetin' at the Red Ace right now to elect that runt Pardoe as marshal, and show yu up."

"We ain't been invited, but I think we oughta attend, Andy," the marshal said gravely, but the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes were well in evidence. "Our friends will shore expect it."

"Yu won't meet many there. Raven's got the riff-raff o' the place; the decent men are stayin' away," Durley told him.

"I'm takin' friends with me," the marshal said, nodding to the waiting group of riders. "Round up some o' them decent men an' fetch 'em along, ol'-timer."

Durley hurried off as Tonia reappeared for a last word with her lover.

"You'll be careful, Andy, won't you?" she whispered. "Remember that you belong to me now."

"That's somethin' I ain't never goin' to forget, honey," the young man said. "Don't yu worry."

At which masculine comfort she smiled bravely and went in to do just what he had told her not to do, as a woman will.

The loungers outside the Red Ace watched curiously as the marshal and his followers tied their mounts and entered. The bar was deserted save for its custodian; with a sour sneer he watched them file through the opening into the other room.

Between forty and fifty men were congregated in the dance-hall, lounging on the benches which lined the walls, and the marshal saw at a glance that the better element in the town was not represented. Freighters, prospectors, gamblers, owners or workers in smaller saloons, with a sprinkling of Mexicans, most of them had little to lose and would be ready for anything which promised excitement and possible gain. There were several he failed to recognize, tough-looking fellows whose presence he did not understand until he saw the leering countenance of Leeson; no doubt the rustler had recruited and brought them in, probably from Tepee Mountain. On the little platform facing the door, with its worn-out piano and chairs for any other musicians who might be available, Raven was sitting. By his side was Pardoe, his head bandaged, and grouped near were half a dozen of the 88 riders. To the left of the door was an unoccupied space which the new-comers promptly took possession of. The marshal nodded nonchalantly to the gathering.

"Sorry I'm late, gents," he said. "On'y just heard o' the meetin'. Hope I ain't missed much?"

"Not a thing, 'cept the election of an honest man to take yore place," Raven told him.

Green looked round the room. "An honest man," he said wonderingly. "Leeson, I'm congratulatin' vu on--yore reformation."

This produced a laugh from some and a scowl from the saloon-keeper. "I'm meanin' Mister Pardoe," he said.

"What, The Parson?" Green smiled. "Converted hisself, has he? Yu'll shorely have to watch out, Raven, or he'll have yu at the mourners' bench afore you know it."

Durley and several of the tradesmen came in at that moment and joined heartily in the mirth the remark evoked. Raven's contribution was a savage snarl: "He'll have yu at the Seat o' Judgment afore then, an' you'll go there through the loop of a rope." He looked at the cowpuncher curiously. "Why didn't vu keep a-travellin'?"

"Never was scared of a dawg yet--specially a yellow one--so I came back," the marshal drawled, and then the humour died out of his face and he said sternly, "Put yore cards on the table, Raven; I'm seem' yu."

The half-breed grew livid at the taunt, but he did not reply at once; he was watching the door. Soon came a scurry of hoofs outside, and a moment later Strade walked in. As though he had waited for this, Raven rose.

"Glad to see yu, sheriff; come right up," he called, and pointed to a seat on the platform.

Strade cast an appraising look at the audience and dropped on a bench beside Andy. "I'll do very well here," he said.

"Please yoreself," the saloon-keeper replied. "I got news for yu." He turned to Green. "Where was yu the day the stage was held up?"

"In yore bar, drinkin' the rotgut yu call whisky."

"An' where was yore side-kicker, Barsay?"

"Can't tell yu. I met him for the first time the day after."

Pete spoke for himself. "I was in Lawless too, swallerin' hocussed hooch at Miguel's," he explained.

Raven's face took on a heavy sneer. "Miguel says he never seen yu till the time yu demanded money an' Green blew in with a gun an' forced him to pay it."

"Then Miguel's as big a liar as he looks," Pete retorted. "If yo're aimin' to pin that hold-up on to me, I gotta remind yu that I ain't a bit like the fella the driver described."

"Huh! A mask an' hoss make a lot o' difference, an' I reckon Eames was some flustered. Pardoe here was one o' the passengers an' he says it might 'a' bin yu--in fact, he thinks it was."

"An' Pardoe might be a truthful man, but in fact I don't think he is," Pete parodied.

"Well, we'll let that ride for a spell," the half-breed resumed. "Where was yu when Bordene was shot, Green?"

"Ridin' in from the direction o' yore ranch."

"What were yu doin' out there?"

"Lookin' for steers I suspected yu o' stealin'," came the instant retort.

Someone laughed; all the men present had not benefited by the saloon-keeper's generosity over the bank's debts. Raven's face was wooden.

"An' yu knew Bordene was carryin' cash--yu saw him come outa the bank."

"He mighta been payin' in," Andy pointed out.

"Yu shut yore yap," the saloon-keeper snapped. "Yu can talk later. I'm doin' this."

"I'll speak when I please. I ain't takin' orders from yu, Raven, an' that's whatever," the rancher replied.

"Yu'll take 'em when yu step off the Box B," the half-breed reminded him, and then, to Green, "Leeson saw a rider on a black horse near the Old Mine 'bout the hour the killin' musta took place."

"Useful fella, Leeson," the marshal said. "Has he just remembered it?"

"He told me at the time. I kept it quiet--for reasons o' my own."

"I can guess 'em. Well, there's the hold-up an' the bumpin' off o' Bordene all nicely doped out. Yu goin' to saddle me with the bank robbery too?"

The saloon-keeper laughed hoarsely as he replied, "Yu've said it. What was yu doin' that night?"

"Watchin' yore men steal Double S steers," came the cool response.

The smiles the answer brought deepened the scowl on the questioner's face. "Likely story that, when I saw you sneakin' outa Lawless after midnight," he sneered. "That black o' yores is plenty outstanding."

It was Green's turn to laugh. "Shore is, if yu saw him that night," he said. "Nigger was in the Box B corral; I rode a paint hoss I borrowed from Andy."

If Raven was disconcerted he did not show it. "Mebbe I was mistook about the hoss--there warn't much light--but it was yu right enough, I'll swear to that," he said.

"Which, of course, convinces everybody," Green said satirically, but conscious that he spoke little more than the truth. For he knew that, up to now, Raven was winning. He was well aware of his danger. The flimsiest evidence could be made damning to unagile minds, and the resultant action would be swift and terrible.

Raven, studying his audience with cunning eyes, decided that the moment had come for his final blow. He saw Strade stand up, and raised a warning hand.

"Hold on, sheriff, in case yu say somethin' yu might be sorry for," he called out. "I got one more card to play." He bent forward, one finger of his yellow, claw-like hand stabbing the air in the direction of the marshal. "This fella calls hisself Green, but in Texas he's better known as Sudden, an' he can't deny it."

Oaths and gasps of astonishment greeted the announcement, and all eyes were turned on the man whose reckless courage and deadly gun-play had already made his name known throughout the South-west. Necks were craned to see one who had been a familiar figure to most of them for many weeks. Somehow this long-limbed, lean-faced, confident young man did not suggest a noted desperado, and they waited breathlessly for his reply.

"I ain't denyin' it," he said quietly.

Raven looked round triumphantly. "I reckon that settles it," he said. "Yo're a cool cuss, Sudden; most fellas, after wipin' out Tony Sarel, lootin' the Sweetwater bank, an' holdin' up Sands would 'a' scratched gravel, but yo're a hawg. A right smart play gettin' yoreself made marshal--I gotta hand it to yu; it was a good joke on the town an'"--his voice was acrid--"we're all laughin' at it."

"Like hell we are," came a surly growl from one of the listeners.

"Well, if Lawless don't feel amused, Sweetwater will," the half-breed went on. "Specially when it learns that its respected sheriff has been hobnobbin' with the very man he's been scourin' the country for."

Strade sprang to his feet. "Hold yore hosses, Raven," he cried. "Yo're travellin' wide o' the trail." He waved a hand towards Green. "I've knowed who this man is pretty nigh since yu appointed him as marshal."

This admission provided almost as big a sensation as the announcement of Green's identity. Strade waited calmly until the incredulous chorus of curses and ejaculations had died down. Raven was the first to speak.

"Yu knew?" he shouted. "Why in hell didn't yu arrest him?"

"When I want yu to tell me my business I'll shore ask yu, Raven," the sheriff replied tersely. "Green come to me an' explained who he was an' why he happened to be in these parts. Afterwards I checked up on what he told me an' found it was correct. I'm admittin' he has a hard reputation, but he got some of it as a deputy-sheriff in the service o' Governor Bleke, an' more was plastered on him like it has been here, which is what. brought him. He warn't around when the Sweetwater plays was pulled off."

"Yu mean he didn't show up till after," Raven sneered. "What about his pardner, Barsay? Yu checked up on him too?"

"No, I ain't," Strade had to confess. "Green told me he only met him the day he was made marshal."

Ironic cheers greeted the remark, and it was easy to see that the sheriff's defence had produced little effect. Green realized that his reputation was likely to cost him his life. Some of the better type of citizen were now regarding him dubiously, and a whispered argument was going on among the cowboys from the two ranches. Then the voice of Rusty rang out with startling distinctness:

"I don't care if he's the Devil hisself, he's a man, an' I'm backin' his play agin that squaw's pup on the platform."

The saloon-keeper's cruel lips tightened at the insult and his voice was thick with passion when he replied: "Yappin' curs never did bother me. Well, boys, yu've heard my side an' Strade's. What yu goin' to do about it?"

"Hang the bushwhackin' thief an' send his pardner along for company," came from Leeson's direction. "Where's the sense in all this chatter?"

Raven's lips twisted in a Satanic smile. "We gotta be fair," he purred. "All in favour o' swingin' Sudden an' his accomplice hold up the left hand."

The result was what he expected, fully three-quarters of those present hoisting their hands. No counting was necessary.

"Reckon that fixes it," the half-breed said. "Sudden, yu ain't as popular as I thought yu was." He turned to the new officer and there was more than a touch of malice in his tone as he said: "Marshal, do yore duty."

The order fell upon Pardoe like a thunderbolt, and his puny soul shrivelled within him as he realized what it meant. He was to arrest and hang Sudden, and there he was, only a few yards away, his thumbs hooked in his belt in close proximity to the smooth butts of the guns he could use with such speed and accuracy. Despite the danger he was in, the gunman's narrowed eyes twinkled with mischievous mirth at the new marshal's predicament, and Pardoe inwardly cursed his own ambition. To fall down on his first job would be fatal to his prospects, but--he wanted to live. His appealing look at Raven proved abortive, for the half-breed was enjoying himself in his peculiar fashion--he had put a white man in an awkward position. Succour came from an unexpected quarter; it was Green who broke the silence :

"Before The Parson officiates at his own funeral, I've got' somethin' to say," he began.

A murmur of impatience ran round the room; there were loud imprecations and jeers from men whose minds were already made up. The eyes of the condemned man were chilled steel, his jaw firmed, and his lounging figure became instinct with purpose. Although they saw no movement, a gun seemed to leap into his right hand; before its menacing muzzle the murmurs died down.

"Yu listened to Raven pretty patient, an' I'm aimin' to say my piece without interruption," the wielder of the weapon said sardonically. "What Strade told yu about me is true. I'm Sudden, but I ain't the man who's been operatin' round here. I came to search out that fella an'--I think I've found him."

He paused for a moment, his gaze travelling over the faces before him. Most of them expressed an amused incredulity, but not one ventured to voice it. The keen, alert glance and levelled gun kept them silent and still. By concerted action they could overwhelm him, but it would mean death to many, and no man of them was prepared to die. for the half-breed. Raven knew this, and conscious too that the threatening gun never moved far from his own breast, he sat down.

"We'll hear yu," he said.

Green's smile had no mirth in it. "Eames an' Sands both say the hold-up's hoss had a white stocking on the near fore," he began. "How d'yu know Sudden's mount was marked like that?"

"I sent to Texas to find out," Raven returned.

"Painstakin' fella," commented the other. "Sudden's hoss is outside now, an' if yu wash away the dye yu'll find the white stockin' on the off fore. Pete wouldn't 'a' made that mistake, an' it's shore odd that both yu an' the hold-up should 'a' got the wrong information."

For an instant the half-breed looked disconcerted, and then he shrugged his shoulders. "Had it from the same source, I s'pose," he said. "Yu suggestin' I robbed the stage?"

"Why not?" came the cool retort. "Yu weren't in Lawless then, nor when Bordene was shot."

"I was at the 88 with my foreman both times."

"Huh! Kinda pity yu wiped out Jevons, ain't it?"

"I saw the boss there each o' them days," Leeson called out.

Green flashed round on him. "Shore o' that?" he asked, and when Leeson--who had not seen the black look Raven shot at him--replied that he was, Green went on, "Raven told us a while back that yu were near the Old Mine when Bordene was killed; yu say yu were at the 88; yu ain't twins, are yu?"

A loud guffaw greeted the statement, and was not lessened by the man's stammering attempt to explain. The late marshal cut him short.

"A liar should have a long memory, Leeson," he said curtly, and turned to the rest of the company. "The mornin' he was murdered Bordene drew five thousand from the bank an' went to the Red Ace to pay the money to Raven. Not findin' him there he set out for the Box B, an' yu know what happened. Later on, Raven claims fifteen thousand from young Andy."

"The note I held was for that amount," the saloon-keeper interposed.

"It was an easy document to alter," Green said. "Andy didn't dispute it, but he couldn't pay till he'd sold his cattle. He don't get no chance to do this--his herd is stampeded, not far from the 88--an' a few days on I find four o' Raven's men shepherdin' about four hundred Box B steers towards the Border. They claim they's takin' 'em back to Andy, but the trail's as crooked as the story."

"I had no knowledge o' that; I left the runnin' o' the ranch to my foreman," Raven snapped.

"Who bein' conveniently dead can take all the blame yu put on him," Green pointed out. "Well, Andy still ain't got the coin, an' at Raven's suggestion he mortgages his ranch with the bank. Then he puts a herd through an' brings back the cash to clear hisself. He has to leave on the jump after Moraga, havin' handed the dinero to Potter."

"Of which there was no record in the bank books," the half-breed sneered.

"Mebbe not, after yu'd handled 'em," Green said bluntly. "When Andy comes back he finds his money gone an' his mortgage in the possession of Mister Raven."

"Who paid for it," that worthy added.

"Talkin' o' mortgages," Green went on imperturbably, "Raven holds one on the Double S which he didn't mention when the man who signed it, Anthony Sarel, was shot, an' he's threatenin' to turn Miss Tonia out unless--she marries him."

This revelation met with a mixed reception, coarse mirth from the rougher element and growls of resentment from the better class of the audience. Raven saw he must temporize.

"Bah, she got uppity; I had to put a scare into her," he said carelessly.

"Yu were about to strike her when I happened along," Green reminded. "Miss Sarel ain't no squaw, Raven."

The oblique reference to his origin, as always, infuriated the half-breed. "Damn yu, what have my private affairs to do with it?" he screamed. "Look here--"

But the object of his wrath was looking at Leeson, watching the fellow's stealthy attempt to draw his gun behind the back of another man. He waited until the weapon was out and then fired. Leeson's pistol bumped on the board floor, while its owner stared dazedly at his perforated wrist, the throbbing agony of which brought a stream of curses to his trembling lips. The gunman, blue smoke eddying round him, swept the room with a glance, and every man grew rigid under the menacing, cold eyes.

"Another trick like that an' yu take the long hop to hell, Raven," he warned.

"I didn't tell the fool to fire. Yo're takin' a high hand, but yore neck ain't outa the noose yet. We're four to one, I reckon, an' if it comes to a showdown--"

"This town'll need a nice new graveyard."

The saloon-keeper gave a gesture of impatience. "Yu've told us a lot we knew afore," he said. "What's yore point?"

"Just this, Raven," Green said meaningly. "Yu an' this fella I'll call Sudden the Second both had the same wrong description o' my hoss, an' every crime he committed around here has been to yore benefit."

"Then I oughta be mighty obliged to yu--Sudden," the saloon-keeper sneered.

There was laughter at this, but it was by no means general and Raven began to realize that he was losing ground. He stood up.

"All these hints an' suspicions don't prove anythin'," he said. "Yo're just ryin' to blind yore own trail. If Potter could on'y speak--"

"Potter won't ever speak again," interrupted a new voice, that of the little doctor, who had just come in.

Green turned quickly. "Shore o' that?" he asked.

"I think I know a corpse when I see one, seh," Pills returned stiffly. "Potter's as dead as Pharaoh."

"Sorry, doc, I warn't doubtin' yore ability, but it may make a difference," the late marshal smiled. "I'm hopin' yu'll do me a favour."

The medico, who was already busy bandaging Leeson's wound, looked up with a whimsical grin. "So long as you make work for me instead of the undertaker I can't very well refuse," he said.

The job finished, he listened to Green's whispered instructions, nodded his head, and went out.

CHAPTER XXVI

In the dance-hall men waited, wondering what new development the doctor's errand portended. Muttering voices, shuffling feet, and an occasional hoarse laugh accentuated the silence. Curious eyes travelled from one to the other of the principal actors. Raven, leaning back in his chair, lit a cigar and affected an air of derision. Actually, he was uneasy. He knew that Green's indictment had damaged him, that some of his supporters now had doubts, and, for all his hatred, cursed him for coming back.

He looked at Green, lounging easily against the wall, gun dangling from his right hand. Certainly he appeared the least concerned of any; but for all this seeming indifference he was on the alert--not a movement escaping him. He knew perfectly well that most of those present were still hostile, that in their eyes he was an outlaw; only the production of the real criminal would exonerate him, and he was taking no chances of another treacherous attempt to shoot him down. What secret the dead banker had left behind he did not know, but he was gambling that it referred to Raven. If it did not, he lost, and--

The return of the doctor stilled all tongues. Green took the envelope the little man handed to him and held it up.

"A while ago," he said, "Potter asked me to take charge o' this, makin' me promise that nobody should see or hear of it till the breath was out of his body. That's all I know about it. I'm askin' the doc. to open it."

Utter silence reigned as Pills tore off the outer cover, disclosing another. "It says, 'Not to be opened until I am dead,' and is signed and dated," he informed them. "Come here, Inky."

The bank-clerk, whose baptismal name of Binks had thus been corrupted, shuffled forward. "That's old Potter's fist shore 'miff," he pronounced. "An' that's his private seal."

Pills nodded his satisfaction. "Having proved the authenticity of the document, is it the wish of the meeting that I make known the contents?" he enquired.

Cries of "Let her rip, doc," and "Spill the beans," came from all parts of the room; curiosity had the men by the ears. Raven alone appeared not to share it, a sneer of indifference masking his real feelings. Carefully Pills split the second envelope, drew out a folded paper, and began to read:

" 'I, Lemuel Potter, write this statement in order that, should I die, the designs of a scoundrel may be frustrated. I have deposited it with Marshal Green, believing him to be an honest man.'"

Several of the audience laughed at this, and even Green himself could not repress a clipped smile. A sharp word from the doctor restored the quiet.

" 'Years ago I was head cashier in an Eastern city bank. Bitten with the get-rich-quick mania, I speculated and got into difficulties. To meet my losses I forged cheques--I was always clever with my pen--hoping, as many a poor fool has done, that the luck would change. I got deeper in the mire. When discovery became imminent I determined to rob the bank and fly. The night watchman caught me rifling the safe; I struck harder than I intended and--killed him. For many months I dodged from place to place, a hunted fugitive, and eventually I came to Lawless and began my life anew. I thought I had escaped punishment, but alas! it was only about to commence. An old news-sheet, containing an account of the crime and a portrait, put one man here in possession of my secret, and from that moment existence became a hell. This soulless devil forced me to participate in the crimes prompted by his lust for power. To commit these with impunity, he hit upon the idea of masquerading as a notorious outlaw and made me obtain a description of this fellow's horse. In the hope of tripping him I altered one detail. He did the deeds of violence attributed to Sudden, and shot Anthony Sarel. Secure in his knowledge that I dare not betray him, he boasted to me of his acts. His manner lately has been sinister, threatening, and I know that he will kill me when I have served my purpose. The mortgage on the Double S ranch is a forgery he compelled me to fabricate. The name of this fiend is Seth Raven, and may the curse of a wretch he has driven to despair follow him to hell--and after.

" 'Lemuel Potter.' "

A long, breathless pause followed as the doctor's voice died out, and all eyes turned to the man sitting on the platform. Hunched in his seat, Raven had listened to the terrible indictment with the face of a stone image, cold, impassive. Now he stood up and--laughed.

"Well, boys, afore yu string me up let me give yu a word of advice--never do another fella a good turn," he said, and his voice was easy, confident. "What yu've heard is a pretty good specimen o' gratitude--white man's gratitude--an Injun wouldn't V done it." He paused for a moment on the sneer. "I never knew Potter was a murderer, but when he come here he told me a hard luck story, an' feelin' sorry for him, I gave him a hand. Without it, he'd 'a' been--nothin'. Of late he's been puttin' on frills, dunno why, but I can guess." He looked meaningly at Green. "I had to call him down once or twice. He took it bad an' here's the result--that pack o' damn lies."

"Yu suggestin' Potter got hisself killed a-purpose to spite yu?" Renton asked sarcastically.

"No, Renton, I ain't," was the quiet reply. "Here's how I figure it: Potter an' Green put their heads together an' dope out that precious confession. Then, one fine night, Potter slides out with the bank funds. When he's clear away, the marshal produces this paper, which ruins me an' clears him. Later, they meet somewheres an' divvy up. It's a good scheme, but the banker overlooks a bet; he don't see that with him dead it's twice as safe an' profitable for his pardner. Think it over; why, it's 'money from home' for--Mister Sudden."

Thus, with devilish cleverness, he twisted the weapon from his own breast and directed it at that of his enemy. The explanation, plausible enough, made an impression which his sharp eyes were quick to note. He knew he had surprised them, that they had looked for a furious storm of repudiation, and he had spoken quietly, holding down with iron control the rage that threatened to choke him.

"Most o' yu have known me some time," he went on. "Am I the kind to put myself in the power of a man like Potter, or to rob a bank which was practically mine to hand yu back the money?"

"Less my thirty thousand," Andy reminded him.

Raven refused to be ruffled. "Is it likely I'd go stravagin' about the country holdin' folks up? Why, I never carry a gun," he said. "That's all I gotta say, boys. There's Sudden, an admitted outlaw an' a stranger, an' here's Seth Raven, who ain't a stranger. Which are yu goin' to believe?"

It was a superb piece of acting and brought its reward. A big, black-bearded man from the Tepee Mountain country jumped up.

"Gents, I reckon Raven has the straight of it," he called out. "I'm backin' him."

Shouts of "Good for yu, Darky" and "Here's another" followed this pronouncement, and a number of the men got to their feet, stamping, yelling, and directing threatening looks at the little group near the door. Amid all the hubbub Green stood alone, cynically surveying the noisy scene. His stem voice rang out above the din, and the very audacity of his request quelled it.

"Raven, I want the gun yo're wearin'--it's under yore left armpit. Hand it to yore friend yonder"--he indicated the black-bearded man--"or I'll drop yu right now."

The half-breed looked surprised, hesitated, but one glance at the speaker's granite face told him that the levelled gun was no mere bluff. With a scornful smile he pulled out the weapon and pitched it to Darky.

"Yo're a gun guesser, Sudden," he jeered. "Gettin' scared, huh? Yu needn't be; yo're slated for a rope. Take care o' that shootin'-iron; she's an old favourite I wouldn't like to lose, though I ain't carried one for years."

"Oh, yeah," Green said, and to the man holding the revolver, "Fetch it out here, friend, where we can all see." From the pocket of his chaps he produced two slender brass tubes and held them up. "The bullets from these killed Bordene an' Potter; I found 'em near the bodies," he went on. "Both have the same distinctive mark." He turned to Darky. "Take the ca'tridges outa that gun an' have a look at 'em."

Curiosity again rampant, the spectators clustered round and stood on the benches to watch the operation; the singular duel was not yet over. Raven alone betrayed no interest. He did not know what this new move portended, but confident in his regained supremacy, he believed he could circumvent it. One by one the black-bearded man drew out the shells, scanning each carefully. Not until he came to the last did he speak.

"Thisyer is scratched along the side--a straight line," he said, and looked at the gun. "The chamber is nicked."

Green handed him the empty shells. "Would yu say they were fired outa that gun?" he asked.

Darky gave them one glance. "Hell! There ain't a shadder o' doubt," he said. "Them marks is eedentical." He looked at Raven and spat disgustedly. "An' I was for him," he added. "Stranger, I'm right ashamed."

A tense silence followed the black-bearded man's verdict and instant condemnation. Swiftly the tell-tale tubes passed from hand to hand, but in every case the scrutiny was of the briefest. Familiar with weapons as all present were the evidence was conclusive, even to the dullest intellect. Had further proof been needed, Raven's ashen face supplied it. The blow, coming in the moment of triumph, had shattered his self-control. He knew that he was beaten, that nothing he could say or do would save him. Not only had the fatal weapon been on him, but he had admitted that he prized it; Green, too, had been astute enough to have the cartridges examined by one of his, Raven's, supporters; there was no loophole. A cold fear clutched at his heart and he cursed himself for having kept and worn the gun. Furtively he glanced about, reading his doom in the set, lowering faces of those who, but a few moments before, had been his friends. At the thought of all he had so nearly gained a madness came upon him, a fierce desire to taunt these men, to vent his spleen upon them for the last time. He rose and faced them, a sinister, evil figure.

"Yo're a clever lot, ain't yu?" he sneered. "Superior race, salt o' the earth--scum would fit yu better. Me, I'm what yu called me. The Vulture, that damned Injun, the unwanted brat of a pore white an' his copper-coloured squaw, yet I've beaten an' fooled yu all--killed, robbed, an' had yu pattin' me on the back for a good fella. Bite on that! Why, if it hadn't bin for a stranger"--his gaze rested viciously on Green--"yu'd be eatin' outa my hand this minit like the dawgs yu are. Which of yu has the pluck an' savvy to plan an' do as I did? Not one o' yu."

The stinging, scornful voice lashed them like a whip and he had his moment. Silent, spellbound, they stared at the extraordinary spectacle of a criminal glorying in his evil, baiting the men at whose hands he must shortly die. Only Strade spoke:

"Yu admittin' Potter was right, Raven?" he asked.

The half-breed grinned hideously. "Yu pore pin-head, ain't I said so?" he retorted. "Potter knowed all, an' I killed him, for that, an' so's I could buy the town with its own coin." The mad laugh came again. "Oh, I played big, an' damn near got away with it."

"Yu--robbed--the stage?"

He turned on the speaker. "Yeah, Pardoe, I stole yore roll an' flung a bit of it back to yu in charity," he gibed. "Ah, would yu?"

For Pardoe, with the growl of a savage beast, was reaching for his hip. Raven's hand flashed to his breast, a shot crashed, and the gambler went writhing to the floor, and was still. The killer faced round, crouching, the smoking weapon poised.

"Fooled yu too, Sudden," he jeered. "Yu guessed at one gun, but yu didn't figure on two, did yu? Now"--the muzzle was directed point-blank at Green's breast--"if anybody makes a move, yu die." His beady eyes gloated over the man whose life he held in the crook of a finger, for Green's guns were back in their holsters. Raven broke the tense silence. "Sudden the Second is goin' to hell presently," he rasped. "Sudden the First is goin' now, damn him."

As the last words left his lips Green's right hand swept to his side. To the onlookers the reports seemed simultaneous. They saw the younger man stagger back as a bullet seared his left temple, and then Raven reeled, his knees hinged under him, and he collapsed like a house of cards. For a long moment there was no sound--men were breathing again--and then Rusty voiced the thoughts of all:

"My Gawd!" he said in awed admiration, "Raven had him covered an' he beat him to it! Sudden, huh? Well, I believe yu."

Green sheathed his gun and mustered up a grin as Pills came to bandage his hurt. "On'y a scratch, doc," he said.

"H'm, another inch to the left and yu'd have been travelling together," the little man said grimly. "I'd given you up."

"He figured wrong--reckoned I'd raise the gun, but I fired from the hip," the patient explained. "If he hadn't been so keen on cussin' me--"

At the far end of the room a crowd gathered round the fallen men; both were dead. Raven's thin lips were drawn back in an ugly snarl and between the staring eyes was the mark where the bullet had entered.

"An' we thought he never packed no artillery," Durley said.

"I knew different," Green told him. "Twice he nearly went for it; when he shot Jevons, and again when I throwed him off the Double S, but I didn't suspect he carred a brace."

"Good thing he was totin' the one he did his dirty work with," Strade commented.

"I figured he would be," the marshal explained. "Yu know how it is with a gun; they has differences, an' a fella gets fond of his own, an' wise to its little ways. When he told us it was a favourite, I felt pretty shore."

"Well, he's saved thisyer town the cost of a rope," Loder put in.

Which was the best that anyone could find to say of the late owner of the Red Ace.

* * *

Lawless was itself again when, two weeks later, Green emerged from the Red Ace and went in search of his deputy. He found him in the office, sitting with his feet on the ramshackle desk, moodily smoking.

"Howdy, marshal," the new-comer greeted.

Pete looked up. "Yo're a-goin' then?" he asked, and regret was plain in his voice. "How'd they take it?"

"One an' all they wept copious," Green grinned. "But I guess that was just to spare my feelin's. Yu see, they know yu wouldn't accept unless I pull my freight, an' they're pinin' for yu."

"Yo're seven sorts of a liar, includin' the damn kind," the little man smiled. "Dunno as I wanta be marshal anyways. I'm goin' to miss yu a whole lot, Jim." And then, with the cowboy's natural aversion to showing emotion, he added, "I'll have no one to talk to."

"Too bad we couldn't persuade Black Feather to stay put," the other suggested slyly. For the Indian, astride his Spanish horse and gripping his cherished carbine, had departed a few days earlier, refusing all offers save cartridges and a small supply of food. After solemnly shaking hands with his "white brothers" he had delivered a long harangue in his own tongue, and then, with a dignified gesture of farewell, had ridden into the wilderness. His address had left Pete gasping.

"Now whoever would 'a' guessed he had all that conversation concealed in him?" was his comment. "Would yu say he was blessin' or cussin' us?"

"I gather he was askin' the Great Spirit to make our trails pleasant, to confound our foes, an' give us plenty cattle, bosses, an' wives," was the marshal's free translation.

"I hope the Great Spirit don't hear that last bit. I don't want no wives--none whatever," Pete had said.

A recollection of this remark reminded Green of something else. "The bride an' bridegroom is due back from Tucson," he said. "Yu'll have Andy to chatter with, an' there's allus Durley."

Pete grunted. "Andy's slid back into his early childhood agin: can on'y speak one word--Tonia," he complained. "Oh, I know she's wonderful--he told me so hisself, 'bout a million times. Durley's as bad, though he can say two words--Red Ace. Holy cats! yu'd think he'd took over the White House at Washin'ton. No, I'll have to win me a parrot, if yu must go, an' won't let me trail along."

"I have it to do," Green said gravely. "An' it's a one-man job, ol'-timer."

So the day came when Andy and Tonia stood on the veranda of the Double S ranch-house to take farewell of the man to whom they owed their happiness. Reuben Sarel, Strade, and Pete were there, and all were loth that he should leave. But he had met every protest with a slow shake of the head, and now, as from the saddle of the big black, he looked at these good friends, there was a suspicion of sadness behind the smiling eyes.

"I don't see why you have to go," Tonia told him for perhaps the twentieth time that morning.

"I got a rovin' disposition," he evaded. "Allus did wanta find out what was the other side o' the hill."

The girl gave a gesture of despair. "But you will come to see us again?" she pleaded.

At once she was reminded of that first time she had met him, sprawling outside the Red Ace. Little creases came in the corners of his eyes, and the firm lips softened under the disarming grin which made a boy of him again, as he replied:

"I'll shore be back--for the christenin'."

THE END

Other Sudden Westerns by Oliver Strange

SUDDEN--OUTLAWED

SUDDEN

SUDDEN PLAYS A HAND

SUDDEN--GOLDSEEKER

SUDDEN MAKES WAR

SUDDEN RIDES AGAIN

SUDDEN TAKES THE TRAIL

THE RANGE ROBBERS

THE LAW O' THE LARIAT

*

By Frederick H. Christian

SUDDEN STRIKES BACK

SUDDEN--TROUBLESHOOTER

SUDDEN AT BAY

SUDDEN--APACHE FIGHTER

SUDDEN--DEAD OR ALIVE!