Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 03 - The Marshal of Lawless(1933) by Oliver Strange Page B
Authors: Oliver Strange
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dry
cackle—as he hoisted his spare body out of the saddle and climbed stiffly down.
He
declined the drink, but accepted a cigar, and when this was alight to his
satisfaction, he shot a sly glance at his host.
“Yu
got a nice place here, Andy,” he began, his eye taking in the solid, spacious
bunk-house, barns, and corrals, and beyond them the level miles of grass, burnt
brown and dead-looking by the summer heat, but, as he well knew, still the best
of feed for cattle. Moreover, among the cottonwoods through which he had ridden
was a little stream which later became a deep pool, worth in itself a small fortune in that arid land. “Yore range must mighty near reach the
Double S.”
“Our
eastern line is their western,” Andy told him, wondering what was coming. Was
Raven about to make him an offer for the ranch? If so, he was doomed to
disappointment; Andy would not have sold for twice the value.
Seth
nodded reflectively. “Yore dad musta sunk a lot o’ coin in it,” he said. “This
cattle business is a costly one, as I’m afindin’ out; the 88 just eats money,
spite of all Jevons can do to keep down expenses; which explains why I’m here.”
Andy
began to comprehend. “Yu want that five thousand I owe yu, is that it, Seth?” he asked.
“Partly,
my boy, partly,” the other assented. “I’m hatin’ to
press yu just now, but bein’ up against it myself—” He paused a moment and went
on, “Unfortunately, Andy, that ain’t all; there’s what yore old man had too.”
“Dad? He owed yu some?” Bordene cried.
Satisfaction
flickered for an instant in the visitor’s eyes. He nodded and produced a paper.
“Yu
can see for yourself ,” he said.
The
young rancher took the document and stared at it amazedly. It was a note of
hand for fifteen thousand dollars, written out and signed by his father.
Carelessly done by one who trusted others, the amount was in figures only and
there was nothing to show that a deft stroke of the pen had trebled the indebtedness.
For a moment he looked at it in stunned silence; it was a heavy blow, but he
had enough of his sire in him to take it without wincing. He handed back the
note, and said quietly:
“That’s
good enough, Seth. I dunno why Dad didn’t tell me, but there it is. I’m payin’
it, o’ course, but yu’ll have to wait a few weeks till I’ve sold the herd I’m
roundin’ up. I was goin’ to make her a thousand strong, but it’ll have to be
fifteen hundred. There’ll be a buyer waitin’, an’ I reckon they’ll turn me in thirty
thousand; that’ll put things straight.”
“Suits
me,” Raven returned. “I ain’t aimin’ to rush yu. When yu reckon to drive?”
“Soon
as I can get the extra cows—say two-three days,” the young man told him.
“Comin’
along to-night to win some o’ that dinero back?” the saloonkeeper smiled.
Bordene
shook his head. “I gotta hustle,” he said. “Wait till I’m outa debt an’ I’ll
have yore hide.”
The
visitor nodded agreement. “Well, s’long, Andy, an’ good luck with the drive,”
he said.
Jogging
leisurely back to Lawless he gave vent to a sneering chuckle. On the assumption
that old Bordene would not tell his son all his business, he had put up a
bluff, and it had come off. It had been easy. “Pie like mother made,” he
muttered, his covetous eyes sweeping the fine grazing over which he was
passing.
CHAPTER
X
The
marshal and his deputy, after a day of ferreting in the Tepee Mountain region,
turned their horses’ heads towards home. They had
cackle—as he hoisted his spare body out of the saddle and climbed stiffly down.
He
declined the drink, but accepted a cigar, and when this was alight to his
satisfaction, he shot a sly glance at his host.
“Yu
got a nice place here, Andy,” he began, his eye taking in the solid, spacious
bunk-house, barns, and corrals, and beyond them the level miles of grass, burnt
brown and dead-looking by the summer heat, but, as he well knew, still the best
of feed for cattle. Moreover, among the cottonwoods through which he had ridden
was a little stream which later became a deep pool, worth in itself a small fortune in that arid land. “Yore range must mighty near reach the
Double S.”
“Our
eastern line is their western,” Andy told him, wondering what was coming. Was
Raven about to make him an offer for the ranch? If so, he was doomed to
disappointment; Andy would not have sold for twice the value.
Seth
nodded reflectively. “Yore dad musta sunk a lot o’ coin in it,” he said. “This
cattle business is a costly one, as I’m afindin’ out; the 88 just eats money,
spite of all Jevons can do to keep down expenses; which explains why I’m here.”
Andy
began to comprehend. “Yu want that five thousand I owe yu, is that it, Seth?” he asked.
“Partly,
my boy, partly,” the other assented. “I’m hatin’ to
press yu just now, but bein’ up against it myself—” He paused a moment and went
on, “Unfortunately, Andy, that ain’t all; there’s what yore old man had too.”
“Dad? He owed yu some?” Bordene cried.
Satisfaction
flickered for an instant in the visitor’s eyes. He nodded and produced a paper.
“Yu
can see for yourself ,” he said.
The
young rancher took the document and stared at it amazedly. It was a note of
hand for fifteen thousand dollars, written out and signed by his father.
Carelessly done by one who trusted others, the amount was in figures only and
there was nothing to show that a deft stroke of the pen had trebled the indebtedness.
For a moment he looked at it in stunned silence; it was a heavy blow, but he
had enough of his sire in him to take it without wincing. He handed back the
note, and said quietly:
“That’s
good enough, Seth. I dunno why Dad didn’t tell me, but there it is. I’m payin’
it, o’ course, but yu’ll have to wait a few weeks till I’ve sold the herd I’m
roundin’ up. I was goin’ to make her a thousand strong, but it’ll have to be
fifteen hundred. There’ll be a buyer waitin’, an’ I reckon they’ll turn me in thirty
thousand; that’ll put things straight.”
“Suits
me,” Raven returned. “I ain’t aimin’ to rush yu. When yu reckon to drive?”
“Soon
as I can get the extra cows—say two-three days,” the young man told him.
“Comin’
along to-night to win some o’ that dinero back?” the saloonkeeper smiled.
Bordene
shook his head. “I gotta hustle,” he said. “Wait till I’m outa debt an’ I’ll
have yore hide.”
The
visitor nodded agreement. “Well, s’long, Andy, an’ good luck with the drive,”
he said.
Jogging
leisurely back to Lawless he gave vent to a sneering chuckle. On the assumption
that old Bordene would not tell his son all his business, he had put up a
bluff, and it had come off. It had been easy. “Pie like mother made,” he
muttered, his covetous eyes sweeping the fine grazing over which he was
passing.
CHAPTER
X
The
marshal and his deputy, after a day of ferreting in the Tepee Mountain region,
turned their horses’ heads towards home. They had
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