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

doggedly: “But to do that I gotta live. What about
it?”
                 “Oh,
I’ll stake yu,” Raven returned carelessly, as he took a wad of bills out of a
drawer, counted, and passed them over. “I’m givin’ yu a word o’ warnin’;
Lawless has got its growth an’ won’t stand for any raw stuff, see? Also, what I
say goes around here, an’ I won’t stand for it neither .”
                 The
gambler sensed the covert threat in both words and tone. He knew that by
accepting the money he had made himself the creature of this hunched-up,
malignant devil, but he did not care; he was not a squeamish person.
                 “Anythin’
yu want to tell me?” was how he asked for orders.
                 “Why,
no,” Seth replied with affected surprise. “There’s a young fella I’ll introduce
yu to who fancies his brand o’ poker; it wouldn’t do him no harm to be educated some, but you’ll remember he’s a friend o’ mine.”
                 The
Parson nodded. “Don’t happen to have a spare gun, do yu?” he asked. “That swine
Sudden took mine.”
                 Raven
pulled out another drawer in the desk. “Yu can have this; I never carry one,”
he said.
                 The
gambler took the six-shooter and slipped it into his shoulder-holster. “All
right for yu,” he said. “Folks come an’ give yu their money; yu don’t never have to argue with ‘em. Pussonally, I don’t feel
dressed unless I’m heeled. Thanks, Seth; see yu later.”
                 So
it came about that Bordene met the newcomer, presented as “Mister Pardoe,” and
accepted the saloonkeeper’s proposal for a “little game.” Youth is rarely
critical, but he was not favourably impressed by the stranger. Moreover, as
they moved towards a vacant table, he saw the marshal was watching them, and
fancied he caught a slight shake of the head. Was it a warning? He looked
again, but Green was apparently no longer interested. Nevertheless, when a fourth
man had been found and the game had started Andy became aware of Green and
Barsay just behind him.
                 “Yessir,”
the marshal was saying. “It was in Tombstone, and they catched him dealin’ from
the bottom o’ the pack.”
                 “Oughta
shot the coyote,” Pete said.
                 “Well,
mebbe he was lucky thataway,” the other conceded. “They just took his clothes
off, poured a barrel o’ molasses over him, rolled him in the sand, an’ rid him
outa town on a rail. It oughta been a complete cure.”
                 Pardoe
was facing Bordene and the latter was astounded at the sudden flush on the
gambler’s bilious face and the vindictive look he cast at the speaker. In a
second, however, his eyes were on his cards again. Andy glanced at Raven, but
the saloonkeeper’s features were an expressionless mask. All at once he looked
up.
                 “Sit
in, marshal,” he invited.
                 Green
shook his head. “I’m on duty,” he said, and smiled.
                 “Huh! It’s quiet to-night—there’ll be nothin’ startin’,”
Raven replied.
                 “Just
the time to watch out,” the officer said.
                 Even
as he spoke, the door of the saloon was thrust open and a wild figure sprang
in.
                 Snaky
black hair hung beneath the pushed-back hat, bloodshot eyes glared behind the
levelled six-shooter, and a snarling mouth showed teeth like yellow fangs. For
an instant the man stood, his head turning from side to side as he surveyed the
room, and then he let out a savage screech; most of the hearers knew it for the
Apache war-cry.
                 “I
want a man,” he shouted. “I ain’t killed one to-day, an’ I’m that pizenous that
when rattlers bite me they crawl away an’ die. Where’s this yer marshal I