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

looking
down at him from the back of the big horse.
                 “You
must be frightfully strong,” she said, a little breathlessly.
                 “Shucks,”
he smiled. “I s’pose ropin’ long-horns mebbe toughens a fella’s muscles some.”
                 He
spoke one sharp word to Nigger. whose ears had gone
back at the strange burden.
                 “It
looks a long way to fall,” she said, her eyes on the smaller animal.
                 Sudden
swung into the piebald’s saddle and for a while they paced slowly along in
silence, the woman covertly studying a companion about whom she was getting new
ideas.
                 Somehow
the task Paul had set her did not seem quite so “amusing.” He had not told her
why he wanted this man, but she divined it was for no good. Also, it was not
going to be so easy as she had anticipated; this
product of the plains appeared to possess a severely practical mind; so far,
she had not received even one glance of approbation.
                 Sudden
was similiarly occupied. It seemed incredible that such a woman could have
slain a man because he insulted her, and yet it was true—or all
the town lied. He felt the allure of her despite the fact that he knew
she was playing a part. Why had she come to seek him, and why the pretended
injury?—for he was fully aware that both her shapely ankles were well able fo support her equally shapely body. Why did she desire his
company to the settlement? What had her brother to do with it? His fruitless
search for answers to these questions was interrupted by the lady;
                 “So
you got tired of punching cows?”
                 “I
allus was a restless fella—never could stay put nohow,” he replied.
                 She
made one or two tentative efforts to probe into his past, but the puncher was
on his guard and she learned nothing. As they rode through the town more than
one pair of envious eyes followed them; Lora Lesurge had plenty of admirers.
Paul, from the shelter of the Monte, saw them pass.
                 “Good,
she’s hooked him,” he muttered.
                 When
they reached the house, Sudden lifted her down and carried her in. He declined
to stay, though she urged that her brother would wish to thank him.
                 “It don’t need speakin’ of,” he told her. Mary Ducane had
come in and was regarding him with something very like repulsion. “Gerry is up
in the gulch there all alone.”
                 “You
are anxious about your friend?” Lora asked.
                 The
cowboy detected the sneer. “I don’t have many, so I gotta take care of ‘em,” he
smiled. “Gerry’s a pretty ornery cuss, but I’d hate to find some wandering
war-whoop had took a fancy to his curly locks.” He
noted the younger girl’s instant look of alarm and smothered a grin as he took
his leave.
                 “It
doesn’t seem to trouble him,” Mary remarked, and seeing she was not understood,
“I mean, killing that man.” This, though the girl did not know it, was a
home-thrust for her companion.
                 “Why
should it?” Lora retorted. “The fellow purposely picked a quarrel as an excuse
for shooting him. Did you expect Green to let him do it?”
                 “I
suppose not, but it is—terrible,” was the lame reply. Lora shrugged her
shoulders.
                 “Nothing
of the kind,” she said callously. “This is a lawless land and bloodthirsty
brutes like Logan—he had already murdered ten men—must be dealt with. All this
claptrap about the sacredness of human life makes me tired; when men behave
like mad dogs they must be treated as such.” Mary, Western-bred, knew that, to
a large extent, she was right, but it was somewhat of a shock to hear a young
and lovely woman express such a drastic