Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 06 - Sudden Gold-Seeker(1937) by Oliver Strange Page A

found that mine. Has Mary refreshed that shocking
memory of yours?” Snowy looked embarrassed. “Damned if I warn’t near forgettin’
why we come here,” he confessed. “She told me enough —I’ll reckernize the place
when I see it. Want me to start in the mornin’?”
                 “Hell, no. How far is it?”
                 “Mebbe
twenty mile an’ rough travellin’.”
                 “You’ll
need company, at least one man who’s good with his gun. Got
any ideas.” Snowy was without the confidence of Lesurge and Stark; he
had not been informed of Berg’s activities.
                 “What
about that cowboy fella, Green?” he asked. “You won’t find a better gun-swinger
barrin’ Wild Bill, an’ some has their doubts about that.” To his surprise the
suggestion met with approval. “The very man I had in mind, Phil,” Lesurge
smiled. “I’ll arrange it. Once the mine is located, we can take out a strong
party to work it. And, by the way, Reuben Stark is our friend, so I want you to
boost him whenever you can. Sabe?” He went without
waiting for a reply, and the old man grimaced at his back. “Shore I sabe, Paul,
an’ I’ll boost him—into hell,” he muttered.
                 The
malevolent expression cleared from his face. “Glad about Green; if he’d sent
Fagan I’m afeared there’d have been an accident—to Fagan.” The cowboys were at
work on their claim when Sudden heard the slither of shod hoofs on gravel and
slipped into the undergrowth to find out who was intruding. He arrived just in
time to see the visitor, a woman, descend from her saddle and slap the pony
smartly on the rump. As the animal clattered away, she dropped to the ground
and uttered a cry of “Help!” Somewhat mystified by these proceedings, Sudden
waited a few moments and then hurried from his hiding-place. The face which
looked appealingly up to his was beautiful, and to his surprise, was that of
Lora Lesurge.
                 “Oh,
I’m so glad someone heard me,” she cried. “My pony slipped and threw me. I ride
quite well, but I suppose I wasn’t noticing. I’ve damaged an ankle.”
                 “Can
yu stand up?” the puncher asked.
                 From
beneath the short, divided riding-skirt, she thrust out a slim, silk-clad leg
and wriggled the dainty foot.
                 “Ouch!”
she gasped. Then the red lips parted, showing the perfect white teeth as she
tried to smile. “It hurts like—the devil. I hope nothing is broken.” It was an
invitation, but Sudden did not accept. “I guess yu couldn’t ‘a’ moved it,” he
said. “I’ll go chase yore broncs’ “And leave me alone?” she queried in dismay.
                 “I’ll
call my partner to keep cases on yu,” he smiled.
                 A
tiny frown indicated that the suggestion did not please her. “The animal is
half-way to Deadwood by now, and while you are catching it, I am in pain,” she
pouted.
                 Sudden
looked contrite. “Which I’m shorely a bonehead not to remember that,” he said.
                 “Yu
can have my hoss.”
                 “That
great black?” she cried. “I never could stay on him with a crippled foot.”
                 “He’ll
be all right with me along,” Sudden assured her.
                 The
smile of thanks he received was sweet, but there was a tinge of contempt in it;
how easily a pretty woman could lead a man! But her strategy was not so successful as she had assumed. When the puncher returned
he was leading two horses, his own, and the piebald mustang which Gerry called “Joseph”
because its coat was of many colours. Sudden solved the problem of mounting by
lifting her without effort into the saddle. For a brief instant one soft arm
encircled his neck, her face temptingly close to his, and then she was