"Keep away from him or he'll kill yu, an' if he don't, I will."
The faces of the men he warned grew darker, and one of them growled, "Who the devil are you to give us orders?"
"My name is `Sudden,' " the puncher rasped. "Put yore paws up, all o' vu, pronto !"
As he spat out the last word his own hands came up, a gun in each. Utterly taken by surprise, the ruffians dared not disobey; the jutting jaw and icy narrowed eyes were not those of a bluffer.
"Run, yu rats," came the harsh command, and a bullet tore the heel from the boot of the last to start.
The gunman waited until they had dived, like the vermin to which he had compared them, into one of the openings, and then hammered loudly on the door with the butt of a gun. It was opened immediately by Silver, who beckoned him in. The masked man was lolling in a big chair, reading, and took no notice when they entered. The puncher seated himself, pushed his hat back, and began to roll a cigarette. Presently the book was thrown aside.
"You are `Sudden'?"
"Men call me that," the cowboy replied. "I s'pose yo're `Satan'?"
"That's what I call myself. you have taken your time."
"Why should I come a-runnin' when yu whistle?" Sudden said rudely. "I ain't nobody's dawg."
The expressionless eyes did not alter, but he saw the mouth harden; the blow had gone home.
"I heard a shot outside. What happened?"
"Three o' yore scum got impudent; I had to educate 'em some."
"Was it to find me you came to Arizona?"
"Never heard o' yu till I got to Dugout--robber bands ain't no novelty in the West," Sudden said carelessly. "I was just travellin'--for my health."
A flash of anger shone in the dull eyes but was gone in an instant. This truculent bully must be given a lesson, the masked man decided.
"I have something to show you," he announced. "When you have seen it, we will continued our conversation."
At a sign, Silver dragged aside a rug and raised a trapdoor, disclosing a ladder. He went down, and Satan motioned his guest to follow. Little as he appreciated the courtesy, the puncher--conscious that he was between the two fires--could not but comply. A moment, and the third man had joined them. The chamber they were now in was a counterpart of the one they had left, save that it was unfurnished. Daylight, entering by a hole on one side, revealed only what Sudden took to be a pile of rags, until a deep groan apprised him that they covered a human form.
"Still alive," the masked man said, and there was a horrible satisfaction in his tone. "Good!"
"What's he done?" the visitor asked.
"you don't know the Governor of Arizona, I expect?" Satan replied, watching him keenly.
Sudden laughed. "Sheriffs is my limit thataway, so far."
"The Governor is good enough to take an interest in me," the hard voice went on. "He has already sent two spies. The first went back ready for burial, and this one will be returned in the same way when I have finished with him. Lagley said you could shoot. I am about to test your skill. Lift him, Silver."
The dwarf raised the supine form as though it had been that of an infant, and the puncher needed all his iron control to suppress a cry of horror. Never had he seen a more dreadful sight. Through the tattered fragments of clothing the shrivelled frame of the poor wretch gleamed like the bleached bones of a skeleton, the limbs swinging loosely, as if tied on with string. Long, matted white hair and beard draped a pallid, blood-drained face, with sunken cheeks, glazed eyes, and drooling lips.
Sudden schooled his features to an expression of callous indifference; he had found Dolver--too late; the man was dying; he might live for days, enduring unspeakable agony, but there was no hope. He fought an impulse to shoot down the devil who now stood, gloating over his handiwork, but it was Keith's son, and to slay the leader only would but make way for another. Even if he got out of Hell City alive--which was doubtful--his work would be still to do. In a voice he hardly recognized, he asked:
"What's wrong with his arms an' legs?"
"Broken at the knees and elbows--it saves the trouble of bonds," the monster explained. "How I wish the Governor could see him."
He gave an order and Silver, supporting his burden easily with his left arm, gripped the lolling head with his enormous other paw and held it upright, as in a vice.
"you have heard of dying by inches," Satan said coolly. "This man is dying by fractions of an inch. You see that groove extending from the forehead back over the scalp? Well, every day I deepen it the smallest shade by a bullet. Eventually, I shall touch the brain, and then ..."
Into the piteous eyes of the prisoner, near blind with pain, came a spark of life, and from the mumbling lips a weak wail. "For God's sake, kill me."
The masked man laughed hideously. "Always the same prayer," he gibed, and finished with a blasphemy.
Stepping back several paces, he drew a pistol, aimed and fired. The shot drew a despairing moan from the victim, and Sudden could see the faintest trickle of blood from the groove. The marksman looked at him triumphantly.
"That's shooting, my gun-slinging friend," he sneered.
The puncher did not appear impressed. "Fair," he admitted. "But if that hombre was fit an' had a forty-five in his fist ..."
"Can you equal it?""Shore, firin' at a fixed mark is dead easy."
"Prove it," the other snarled.
Sudden shrugged; this was the invitation for which he had been angling. Drawing one of his guns, he raised it slowly, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet struck an inch below the groove and Dolver's head slipped from the dwarf's grasp and fell forward. For one second, the bandit could not believe what he saw, and then: "you clumsy fool, you've killed him," he cried, almost beside himself with rage. "I've a mind to..."
Apparently the visitor was too chagrined to resent either the epithet or the threat.
"Which I'm allowin' it was a poor shot," he said dejectedly. "Allus do forget that this gun throws a mite low. yu certainly can shoot, mister."
The humility and flattery restored the masked man to his normal state of imperturbability. "My followers call me `Chief,' " he pointed out.
"Suits me, but I ain't one of 'em yet. Let's get out'n here an' talk it over--corpses ain't the best o' company."
Leaving the man whom Sudden, at the risk of his own life, had mercifully released from horrible torment, lying on the floor of his prison, they returned to the upper room.
"What yu want I should do?" the puncher asked. "Rustle some cows for yu?"
Satan looked at him. Was the fellow really as stupid as he seemed to be--a mere creature of brawn without brain? Even so, he might be useful.
"The rustling is a small matter, done to annoy Keith," he explained. "I want to make him desperate, force him to fight, and then--I'll kill him."
The last three words were spoken with incredible ferocity, hissed through shut teeth.
"It is said he's yore father," Sudden reminded.
"No, he disowned me, said I wasn't fit to bear his name, and that he wished never to see my face again. Well, I have acquired another name and concealed my face, but, by Christmas, he shan't rob me of my inheritance. Now do you understand?"
"Shore," was the reply. "It's a good range."
This fatuous answer produced a further probing regard, but the speaker's features were wooden. The bandit nodded.
"Since we understand one another, get back to it," he said. "Lagley will give you my orders. Remember, if you play false, I shall know, and--you have seen how I deal with those who offend me."
The visitor made an evident effort to regain his assurance. "Threats don't scare me none whatever," he boasted. "Keep 'em for those they may. So long."
With an air of insolent bravado, he swung from the room, but it was a pleasure to see the sky again. His horse welcomed him with a whinny, and mounting, he rode slowly to the gate. His gloomy expression was misunderstood by the keeper.