A tinge of red in the bully's cheeks showed that he was becoming really angry; this stupid fool was making it difficult. He must depart from his usual routine, and force the issue. `No, an' you ain't got no guts neither, you--'
With the words, he had fallen into a crouch, his right hand hovering, claw-like, over the butt of his gun. Sudden, watching the other hand, saw it drop, with the speed of a striking hawk, to the holster on that side; the weapon was clear of its container when fire jetted from the puncher's left hip and Lukor staggered. For an instant he kept his feet, and then, with a choking grunt, lurched forward, and as his knees gave, collapsed on the sanded floor, his drawn gun thudding beside him.
Sudden knelt and raised his shoulders, disclosing a gaping wound at the base of the throat. As he did so, the eyes opened, and a spark of recognition shone in them.
'Yo're--not--Drait,' the man muttered thickly. `Yo're-- The head fell to one side, and another gunman had died--as did most of his kind--`with his boots on.' Sudden straightened out the body, placed the hat over the face, and stood up.
At that moment the sheriff came bustling in, elbowed a way through the crowd which had swarmed round as soon as the shooting was over, and demanded :
`What's happenin' here?'
`Nothin'--now,' the puncher told him drily. 'Yo're in time to take charge o' the corpse--as usual.'
`I'm in time to take charge o' the killer, too,' Camort retorted. `You know this fella?'
`On'y by hearsay,' Sudden replied. `Name of Lukor--knowed too as "Finger-shy." His guns were for hire, an' there's a sheaf o' sheriffs further East honin' to hang him. His dodge was to make a show o' gain' for the right-hand gun an' usin' the left, in spite o' the missin' finger. By all accounts, it fooled a lot o' fellas.'
`An' you knew about it, o' course?' Camort sneered.
`No, he told me,' Sudden said. `You see, he picked up some change so clumsily that it was plain he wanted me to notice the crippled paw, an' I wondered why.'
`Which o' you started the trouble?' A dozen voices told him. `Awright, I ain't deaf,' he said testily.
`Why shouldn't you be?' Pilch asked. `Gawd knows yo're dumb.'
When the laughter had subsided, Merker explained that the puncher had done everything to avoid a clash.
`So Green was--cautious, huh?' the sheriff sneered. `Tried to duck out, in fact?'
Sudden looked at him, and before those frosty eyes Camort's assumed merriment died swiftly.
`Listen, yu makeshift,' the puncher said. `I didn't wanta fight that fella because I knew he wasn't after me, an' his last words proved it. When you came in just now it was Drait's body you expected to see. One thing more : yu are a liar, twister, an' a yaller dawg. Got any ideas?'
The challenged man had one--to save his skin. `I am also the sheriff,' he reminded.
`Yu'll be the late sheriff unless you get out, pronto,' was the scornful retort.
Camort looked at the stony, threatening face, then at the grinning spectators, and slunk out like a punished puppy. An ironical cheer followed him through the swing-door.
Chapter XVI
Tidings of the tragedy arrived at Shadow Valley before the chief actor returned. One of Vasco's riders had been in Merker's, and running into Shorty on his way home, told the story in detail. `An' say,' he finished, `Don't git fresh with that Green person--who shore has a most misleadin' monicker--an' handles a six-shooter like he'd cut his teeth on one.'
`Fast, huh?' Shorty queried.
`Lightnin's that, but you can see it,' the newsbringer replied. `There's nothin' wrong with my eyes, but Green's draw beat 'em. An' he had to hump hisself, that trick o' goin' for one gun an' usin' t'other was mighty bafflin'. An' that's Gawspel truth. Well, gotta be pushin' along--I'd just hate for anyone to beat me in with this news.'
`I'm aimin' to be early my own self,' Shorty grinned.
He got his wish, and by the time Sudden arrived, the story was common property in the Valley. Quilt opened the gate for him.
`Anythin' fresh in town, Jim?' he asked casually.
`Nothin' to speak of,' was the equivocal reply.
He rode on, and Quilt scratched his head. `Cool?' he asked himself. `I guess ice on him'd on'y git harder. An' he shore is closely related to a clam.'
Having unsaddled and turned his mount into the corral, Sudden was making for the bunkhouse when Drait hailed him. The nester did not beat about the bush.
`So you've been takin' my place in Midway?' he began.
`Shucks!' was the disgusted reply. `This is the most chatter-some country I ever was in. Did they tell yu I bought seegars in Merker's too? Have one.'
Nick lit up. `Then it's true?' he said.
`I dunno what yu've heard,' Sudden replied, and when he had been told, went on. `That's about the size of it.'
`How come he took you for me?'
`We're both biggish, an' I had my hat pulled down. Likewise, I was ridin' one o' yore hosses.'
Drait looked at him sharply. `Anythin' wrong with Nigger?' `I've been workin' him middlin' hard; he was due for a rest.'
`You steered me off town. Were you lookin' for trouble?' `Never had to yet,' Sudden laughed.
Drait digested this evasion in silence; he was no fool, and he knew that he again owed, perhaps his life, to this chance-met comrade.
`Jim, yo're on'y a passable liar an' Yorky ain't much better,' he said. `Don't think I ain't grateful, but this has gotta stop; I'm too old for dry-nursin'.'
`Nick, I wasn't expectin' a showdown, but I did hope to get a line on what was afoot,' Sudden said soberly. `He rushed me.' `Did you know this Finger-shy gent?'
`On'y by repute; he was just a professional killer an' crooked at that, but he was over-confident an' showed his hand too plain,' Sudden said with a sinister smile. `What about grub? I'm as empty as the sheriff's head.'
There was no demonstration when they entered the bunkhouse, nor any reference to the day's happening; with innate delicacy, the cowboys knew that taking life, even justifiably, was not a thing a man would want to talk about. Smoky just grinned and said :
`Glad yo're back for supper, Jim. Long has threatened some-thin' special tonight.'
`An' "threatened" is the right word,' Shorty supplemented. `When Long passes in his checks, someone else will oe the worst cook in the world.'
Which specimen of brotherly love restored the normal atmosphere and put everyone at ease.
Cullin called the S P the following morning, and finding that Mary knew nothing of the gun-fight, gave her the details, dwelling especially on Lukor's error.
`He intended to kill Mister Drait?' she cried. `But why, if they were strangers?'
`If,' the rancher shrugged. `I'm told that the fella talked o' bein' in Midway to avenge a sister's honour, but meobe it was on'y an excuse; his kind has to have one.'
He saw her face darken; however little a wife may care for her husband, the advent of another woman is rarely welcome. But she did not speak.
`That cowboy, Green, is a mighty good watch-dog,' Cullin continued. `He's done a lot for Nick.'
`I, also, am in his debt,' she reminded quietly.
`Same here,' he smiled. `For what he has done for you; I wish it had been my luck.'
`But you have helped, and I am grateful.'
`On'y that? Well, I mustn't be impatient, but I want you to like me very much--Mary.'
She flushed--it was the first time he had used her front name --but she affected not to notice. He left soon after, to her relief. Staring, almost with unseeing eyes, at the great panorama before her, she tried to analyse her feeling for Cullin. Did she really like him, or was it the fascination a forceful man who knew the world must have for a young, inexperienced girl? She could not decide. Admiring him, enjoying his company, at the back of her mind was an instinctive warning, vague but insistent. She shook her head and was glad to see Yorky rocketing towards her. The boy was bursting with excitement; Smoky had brought him a note from Jim, and of course, spilled the whole story.