Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 04 - Sudden Outlawed(1934) by Oliver Strange Read Free Book Online Page A

ruminated. “She’d be a useful bolt-hole though.”
                 Sandy
had already told him that the nearest settlement on this side of the valley was
some thirty miles distant, and that the only habitation of importance was the S
E ranch.
                 “Got
a big range, has Sam Eden,” the boy had said. “They say he owns a lot o’ the
land too. Dessay our valley belongs to him, but up to now he ain’t served no writ of ejectment.”
                 It
was a wild bit of country into which Sudden emerged, a jumble of scrub-choked
gullies, flat-topped mesas, ridges of bare rock, and forested slopes hemming in
grass-covered savannahs. Every now and then, a fierce-eyed steer would break
from a thicket, glare at the rider, and crash back into the brush. Some of
these bore the S E brand but more were unmarked.
                 “Sandy
was right,” Sudden reflected. “Either Eden’s outfit is damn careless or he
ain’t had a proper roundup in years. He can’t holler if someone takes care o’
them mavericks.”
                 A
little later, as he was riding the rim of a shallow ravine, he heard a startled
cry, followed by the beat of galloping hooves. It was a woman’s voice and he
judged it came from just ahead. A whispered word quickened the speed of the big
black and rounding a bend, the rider swore in angry surprise:
                 “Damnation!”
                 Along
the bottom of the ravine, and only a few hundred yards away, a girl was
desperately spurring her pony. A short distance behind, two mounted Indians
were racing to overtake her. Sudden pulled up, swung his horse round, headed it
for the inclined wall of the gully, and leaned back in the saddle. Nigger knew
what was required; bunching his feet together he slithered down the slope, and
took up the chase. The long leaping stride of the black soon began to overhaul
the poorer animals in front, but Sudden saw he had no time to waste; already
the foremost Indian had grabbed the bridle of the girl’s pony and was
endeavouring to drag her from the saddle.
                 She
was resisting, striking at the savage with the butt of her quirt, and fearing
that the fellow would do her an injury, he uttered a shout. Instantly the
second redskin whirled, dropped his lance, his right hand flashing to the
quiver behind his shoulder, and Sudden felt a searing
pain at the side of his neck. With incredible speed, the Indian notched a
second arrow but ere he could despatch it the white man’s revolver roared and
the redskin pitched to the ground. His companion, seeing what had happened,
abandoned the girl, flogged his pony savagely up the steep bank of the
ravine—which it climbed like a cat —and, with a whoop of defiance, vanished
over the edge. The cowboy followed, but by the time he reached the top the
fugitive was half a mile distant on an open plain. When Sudden returned the girl
rode to meet him, a grateful smile on her firm lips.
                 “Thank
you,” she said, holding out a slim, gauntleted hand. Then, as her frank brown
eyes studied this stranger who had so providentially come to her rescue, she
saw blood on the collar of his shirt. “But you are hurt,” she cried. ’
                 “On’y
a scratch—mebbe,” he smiled.
                 “We’ll
wash and tie up that scratch,” she said, and though he protested, had her way.
                 When
the job was done to her satisfaction and they were in the saddle again, she
turned to him with a smile.
                 “I
am Carol Eden,” she told him. “The S E ranchhouse is only about eight miles
from here and my father will want to thank you.”
                 “Why,
there ain’t no need—” he began, but she cut the protest short.
                 “He
will think there is, and I agree with him. Besides, there may be other