Read Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 03 - The Marshal of Lawless(1933) for Free Online Page A

overlooked
the trail.
                 In
some ways the location was not a happy one, but the presence of a perpetual
spring of cold, sweet water, in a land where that liquid was sometimes more
precious than gold, compensated for other disadvantages. Three giant
cottonwoods, survivors of the grove cut down when the buildings were erected,
cast a welcome shade and relieved the bareness of the surroundings.
                 Lounging
in a chair in a protected corner of the veranda, puffing a long black cigar,
Reuben Sarel watched the approaching riders. Of middle age, his big, round,
fleshy face, in which the tiny eyes twinkled, was so fashioned as to present a
perpetual expression of good-humour, but there was a slackness and want of
decision about the mouth which told a story; here was one who would take the
easy way. His enormous breadth of body, coupled with his corpulency, made him
appear almost as wide as he was long. With astonishing agility for so massive a
man, he jumped up and waved to the girl and her companion as they loped up.
                 “‘Lo,
Andy, what’s brung yu over?” he asked, with a grin which uncovered his strong,
tobacco-stained teeth. “Light an’ tell us the news.”
                 “Just
had to see Tonia safe home, but I can’t stay,” the young man smiled, as he
dismounted and trailed the reins. “Heard about the Sweetwater stage bein’ held
up?”
                 “Yu
don’t say!” ejaculated the other. “When was it?”
                 “Yesterday
mornin’ in Devil’s Dip. Strade an’ his posse was in
lookin’ for the fella.”
                 “The fella? One-man job, huh? Did
he get anythin’?”
                 “He
got the messenger—plumb through the head, the express box with ten thousand,
an’ one o’ the passengers claims he lost two thousand
more.”
                 “Pretty
good haul,” Sard said. “Strade got anythin’ to go on? Fella didn’t look anyways
like me, I s’pose?”
                 “I
guess not,” Bordene assured him. “Eames, the driver, said the hold-up claimed
to be Sudden, an’ the hoss tallied.”
                 Sarel’s
small eyes widened. “Hell!” he exploded. “That jasper’s gettin’ too prevalent in
these parts; it’s time somebody put a crimp in his game.”
                 The
talk drifted to range topics, and presently Andy climbed his horse again, and,
with a wave of his hat, set out for Lawless. He rode slowly, his mind full of
the girl from whom he had just parted. Ever since they could toddle they had
been playmates, like brother and sister. School and college days for both of
them had intervened, and when these were over the relationship had become one
of good comrades. But something had happened today. Was it a sudden realization
of her budding, youthful beauty as she rode so jauntily beside him, or the fact
that she had shown interest in another man? He did not know, but he was acutely
conscious that he wanted her, that his feeling was no longer one of mere
friendship. He decided that he would employ this stranger, and would see to it
that his duties did not take him to the Double S.
                 “Wonder
who told her ‘bout the Red Ace?” he muttered. “Durn it, I’ll not go there so
much, though I gotta to-night—it’s the likeliest spot to find that fella.”
                 Having
thus, with the easy casuistry of youth, justified himself, he shook a little
life into the heels of his horse and hurried to the place he had determined to
avoid.
                 The
dusk was creeping in from mountain and desert and Lawless was waking up for the
evening’s festivities. From the south-west trail came the muffled thunder of
pounding hoofs as a party of four cowboys dashed into the street, riding and
yelling like madmen. The light in the marshal’s office arrested their