Read Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 05 - Law O' The Lariat(1935) for Free Online

Sensing danger, the dog
growled again, and the man, putting his hand on it, found the animal trembling,
the hait of its neck bristling. He himself had an unpleasant prickling
sensation under his scalp.
                 For
a moment he listened intently, hoping to locate the reptile but the faint
slither of its body as it moved on the earthen floor gave no indication of its
whereabouts. The rattlesnake, Severn knew, is a coward and will rarely attack
unless forced to defend itself, but this one must have just been released from
captivity and would be fighting mad. One thing was certain, he must have a
light, and his matches were on the table in the middle of the room. Gingerly
reaching out, he felt for his boots, dropped at the side of the bed, found and
pulled them on.
                 This
was the ticklish time. Slipping from the bed, gun in his right hand, two long
noiseless strides brought him to the table, where he pawed eagerly around for
the matches, nearly upsetting the lamp. He could not find them and had to move
his position. Every step he expected to feel a squirming body under his foot
and the sinking of the deadly fangs in his flesh. In groping about he made a
slight noise and his blood chilled when the ominous rattle sounded again, and very near. Then his fingers closed on the matches
and, spilling them on the table, he snapped one alight with his thumbnail. Less
than a yard away was the reptile, coiled upon half its body, poised in
readiness to strike. He had just time to spring back and send a bullet into the flat, venomous head. Then, with shaking fingers, he lighted
the lamp, and kicked the still quivering carcass into the open hearth. A scurry
of footsteps came from outside, voices and a knock on the door. Opening it, he
saw several of the men, partially clad, but every one of them carrying a gun.
                 “What’s
doin’?” asked the foremost, the man named Darby. “A diamond-back come
a-visitin’,” Severn explained. “Had to abolish it some.”
                 The
men crowded in and examined the snake, which was a large one.
                 “Ten
rattles—he was a daddy, shore enough,” commented one. “Wonder if he fetched his
farnily.”
                 A
search of the room revealing no further visitants, the cowboys returned to
their bunks, all save Darby, who lingered.
                 “Funny
‘bout him,” he said, jerking a thumb at the dead reptile. “There’s gravel all
round this shack an’ snakes don’t like gravel.”
                 He
walked to the window, stooped and picked something up. “ He shore meant to stay, too—brought his war-bag.” He held out a leather sack, the
mouth of which could be closed with a draw-string; it was rank with the
peculiarly offensive odour of the rattlesnake. “Yore fondness for pets has got
around,” he went on. “Mebbe yu’ll get a skunk next.”
                 “I
could ‘a’ got one tonight if I’d knowed,” the foreman replied, but gave no
information. Though the man seemed friendly, he was not
trusting anyone yet. That a dastardly attempt on his life had been made
was clear, but he had no evidence to locate the culprit. When Darby had gone he
turned in again, but not without a commending pat for Quirt.
                 “I
reckon yu’ll pay for yore keep, old fella,” he said.
                 At
sunrise he was searching the ground outside for tracks, but, as Darby had said,
there was gravel all round, and he found nothing until he came to a strip of
sand some ten yards distant, separating the gravel from the grass. Here were
the deep marks of two heels, as though the wearer had stood there for a while,
and the right showed little indentations in the form of a cross. Masters, when
he heard of the incident, scouted the idea that the bandits had anything to do
with it.
                 “Never
had any trouble with