"H'ist 'em, pronto ! "
The old man dropped the skillet he was lifting as though it had burned him and spun round, both hands raised. A tall, masked man stood in the doorway, his gun levelled. He stepped forward, and others followed, dour-looking fellows, slitted kerchiefs across their faces, and armed."What's the game?" the prospector shrilled.
"Shut yore trap, come quiet, an' yu won't be hurt none," the man with the gun told him. "If we have to reason with yu..."
The implied threat was unnecessary--Cal had no thought of resistance. Blindfolded, his hands tied behind, he was hustled out and lifted on to a horse. The leader then searched the cabin, found what he was looking for--the piece of "float"--and joined his companions. At a word the party set out for the valley, taking a line, however, which would enable them to keep clear of the town. At the end of what seemed to him an interminable ride, California was yanked from the saddle, the handkerchief over his eyes removed, and he was thrust into a small log shack.
"Talk to yu later," he was gruffly told, and then came the creak of a turning key.
The prisoner's reply took the form of a stream of curses, blistering, vitriolic, the cream of all he had gathered in the many mining-camps and tough towns he had known. It was an impartial, comprehensive cursing, for, starting with his unknown captors, it went on to include Windy and its inhabitants, and finished with a whole-hearted condemnation of himself and the foreman of the C P.
"No fool like an old 'un, they say, an' of all the old fools I'm the daddy," he wheezed when his breath and memory were beginning to fail. "I'd oughta be split in two with a hatchet for openin' my face to that slick-eared, double-faced cow-punch, burn his soul. O' course he yaps to Purdie, an' here I am, boxed up on the C P. Got no more sense than a burro, Cal, yu ain't, but from now on yo're dumb, whatever play they make."
Outside the door a tall man listened and laughed silently.
"Mouthy old bird," he muttered. "But that's a sound idea 'bout Green--we'll have to let him go on believin' that. Yu'll be good an' hungry in the mornin', friend, an' mebbe not so dumb as yu think; an empty belly is a powerful persuader."
***
It was not until the second evening after his adventure in the Sluice that Sudden visited town again. He had told no one of this further attempt on his life, and had sworn Yago to secrecy. His appearance at "The Plaza" evoked no surprise; several of those present gave him friendly nods; others watched him indifferently as he stepped to the bar and greeted the proprietress. Evidently his supposed demise was not yet generally known. Lu Lavigne welcomed him with a smile, but there was a shadow in her eyes.
"I'm guessin' yu ain't pleased to see me," he said bluntly.
"You know that isn't true," she replied. "But why come looking for trouble?"
The corners of his eyes crinkled up. "An' I came to see yu," he reproved.
She shrugged impatient shoulders. "I ride towards Old Stormy nearly every morning," she told him.
"I'll shore remember," he grinned. "Mebbe yore bronc will get away from yu again, an' li'l Miss Tenderfoot'll want help."
She had to laugh, but her face quickly sobered, the muttered "Oh, damn," accenting the change. Usually her mild expletives had a whimsical unreality--they might have been uttered by a child--but this time she meant it. Sudden did not move, but the mirror behind the bar enabled him to see that King Burdette had thrust open the swing-door and was strolling towards them. The puncher, head hunched, waited until the newcomer was near and then straightened up and turned round.
"God ! "
King Burdette, taken off his guard, had recoiled, staringwith wide eyes at the man he believed to be drifting, a shapeless mass, in the depths of Thunder River. Almost instantly, however, he got over the shock, and an expression of sneering rage replaced his amazement. He glared at the girl.
"What's this fella doin' here?" he asked.
There was nothing mirthful in the cow-puncher's smile. He had learned what he wished to know: Burdette was aware of, and perhaps concerned in, the effort to send him to a horrible death in the Sluice.
"Why don't yu ask me?" he suggested.
Burdette's gaze was fixed on Lu Lavigne, and it was she who replied. "This is a public place; he has as much right to be here as you have."
Her defiance spurred his rage. "So that's it?" he sneered. "Got a new playthin', huh?" He laughed hideously. "But yu ain't finished with me yet, yu"
A cold, rasping voice cut in; Sudden was bending slightly forward, his hands hanging at his sides, death in his eyes.
"That'll be all from yu, Burdette," he said, and waited.
King turned his malevolent gaze on the interrupter. "I've on'y got one thing to say to yu, an' that is, don't crowd yore luck too close," he warned. "It's saved yu twice"
"Three times," the puncher corrected, "An' that's my limit." He noted King's momentary start of surprise, and went on, "If yo're honin' to make it a fourth, why, I'm waitin'."
King Burdette hesitated. He had plenty of pluck, and he was consumed with a desire to shoot down this man with the cold eyes and voice which stung like acid, but a demon of doubt assailed him. Whitey had failed and paid the penalty. King had no wish to follow him, especially now, when things were breaking right and a prospect of almost unlimited wealth was opening out. But it was a direct challenge and must be met. The sardonic voice of the C P foreman lashed him .
"Take yore time, Burdette; yu got all eternity ahead o' yu."
With a snarl of fury the baited man turned on the speaker, ready to snap out the word which would set guns spouting flame and hot lead. But another voice intervened.
"There'll be no gun-play here, gents; I'll down the first fella what pulls."
Slype, who during the conversation had apparently been intent on a card game, was now standing near, his gun out. Sudden saw the swift look of relief in Burdette's face and laughed aloud.
"Pretty neat, marshal," he said. "Yu figure I'd beat him to the draw, so I'd get yore pill. Well, I ain't obligin'. Wasn't yu a leetle late gettin' into the game?"
"No call for me to interfere because two fellas quarrel over this yer woman," Slype said insolently.
The puncher's eyes grew chilly. "`Lady,' yu meant to say, didn't yu, marshal?" he suggested, and there was an ominous purr in his tone. "Yu ain't denyin' that Mrs. Lavigne is a lady, are yu?"
The officer shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. The "lady" saved him the embarrassment of replying.
"Thank you, Mister Green, but I don't care a hoot what that dirty little pack-rat thinks I am," she said. "His good opinion would be an insult."
"Bully for yu, Lu," shouted one of the company, and most of the rest laughed approvingly.
The marshal saw that he had blundered. "I warn't meanin' no offence," he said, but his look at the lady was poisonous. "As law officer of this yer town it's my duty to stop a ruckus."
"An' yore boss is no doubt much obliged to yu," Sudden cut in. He turned to Burdette. "I'm servin' notice that yu've reached yore limit," he warned.
"I make my own limits an' for yu the roof's off," King retorted, and calling for a drink, presented his back to the puncher. Outwardly calm again, he was a volcano within. For the first time in his life he had lost self-confidence. Why had he backed down before this stranger of whom nothing was known save that he possessed a deadly speed with a six-shooter? By what wizardry had the fellow escaped from the Sluice? Riley's shots must have missed, of course, but King knew the place, with its slimy, vertical walls and exit over the fall which spelt certain death. Had Riley pushed the wrong man in? No, he could not have made such a mistake in broad daylight, and Green had said, "Three times."