Read Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 08 - Sudden Takes The Trail(1940) for Free Online Page B

           “Yo’re
a foul-minded, dirty liar,” their owner said through his clenched teeth.
Wallowing in the dust, Jake was groping for his gun. “Don’t do it, or I’ll kill
yu an’ cheat the rope that’s waitin’ for yore rotten neck. Take his shootin’-iron,
boys.” Despite his struggles and curses, he was soon deprived of his weapon,
and allowed to stand up. By this time an eager crowd had collected, questioning
and wondering. For days past it had been seen that a clash between the two was
inevitable; Jake had made no secret of his enmity, but after the shooting match . .
                 Mullins,
his hot eyes glaring at his opponent, his features twisted in a savage grimace,
had something to say:
                 “Well,
you got my gun, so you needn’t be afeard to pull yore own on me.” For a single
pulsating second it seemed that the taunted man was about to do that very thing, and Jake’s heart missed a beat—he was not tired of
life. Then he breathed again as first one and then the other weapon was handed
to Reddy.
                 “Which
is what yu’d have done,” Sudden said coldly, answering the jeer. “We’re even
matched now. Yu have in suited a lady this town admires an’ respects. For that
yo’re gettin’ a hidin’—one yu’ll remember as long as the world has to put up
with yu.” Into the ruffian’s eyes came a gleam of satisfaction; this was
something different. Though they were about the same height, he was fully a
stone heavier, and had experience in the rough-and-tumble form of fighting, in
which anything save the use of a weapon was permissible. The marshal’s friends
were not pleased; they knew the other man’s reputation.
                 “See
here, Jim, you don’t have to do this,” Nippert expostulated. “Clap him in the
calaboose, an’ we’ll deal with him.”
                 “An’
tell all the town I’m scared?” Sudden smiled. “Shucks,
you’re jokin’, Ned.”
                 “He’s
one hell of a scrapper,” the saloon-keeper said dubiously. “If he licks you …”
                 “He
was one hell of a shot too,” the marshal reminded. “This ain’t a duty, but a
pleasure.”
                 Removing
his hat, spectacles, and vest, he stepped into the ring which had been formed.
Jake, his rolled-up shirtsleeves displaying hairy, muscular arms, was awaiting
him, fists bunched in malignant eagerness. Silence fell on the crowd as the men
faced one another.
                 For
a moment they stood motionless, and then Mullins, unable to restrain his
passion, rushed forward and flung a furious blow which might have done real
damage had it landed. But Sudden swayed away and before the striker could
recover his balance, moved in with a straight left which jolted the other’s
head back and should have taught him a lesson. Dominated, however, by his
anger, Jake continued his blind charges, only to encounter that stinging left
which stopped him like a brick wall.
                 The
officer, calm, inscrutable, was almost untouched, while Jake was already badly
marked, and only exhausting himself with the violence of his efforts to deliver
a smashing blow.
                 “Stan’
up an’ fight, you white-livered cur,” Jake grated. “Where are you?” His fist
hurtled through the air as he spoke, but Sudden saw it coming, moved his head
so that the vengeful knuckles merely grazed his cheek, and drove his left, not
to the jaw this time, but just above the belt.
                 “I’m
right here,” he replied grimly.
                 Jake
was incapable of making any retort; the terrible, paralysing punch had driven
all the breath from his body, leaving him doubled up, gasping and grunting with
pain. Sudden sprang in, his right drawn back for the blow which should end the
battle; he had the fellow at his mercy and there was