No sooner was she out of hearing than Satan turned furiously upon the interloper, who was still playing with his pistol.
"What's the meaning of this?" he asked. "Are you working for me or not?"
"Shore I am," the puncher returned easily. "I've just done yu a service. See here, I'm ridin' for Keith. How long d'yu s'pose I'd be doin' that if I stood by when his daughter was needin' help?"
"She didn't see you."
"She did; I was right close before I recognized yu."
"I don't allow people I pay to correct me, even if I'm wrong."
"Then yu can call the deal off--I ain't riskin' my neck for a fool," Sudden said bluntly. "Yu were tryin' to do somethin' no decent girl would ever forgive. Miss Keith is a lady, not a dance-hall dame." He returned the glare in the sated eyes. "If yu an' me are to tread the same trail there's one thing yu gotta keep in mind, that I ain't one o' the gaol-sweepin's yu got herded up in Hell City."
The bandit did not reply at once. He knew that the cowboy was right--he had behaved unwisely, to say the least of it.
The girl's loveliness had shattered the shield of icy indifference behind which he was wont to hide. This saturnine gunman had saved him from committing an irretrievable blunder, and though he felt no gratitude, he did not wish to lose him. So, when he spoke again, the anger had gone.
"It is true. I acted like a half-wit, but I had not seen Joan for a long time and her beauty swept me off my feet. I am sorry." He laughed shortly. "Rescuing damsels in distress seems to be a habit of yours. Miss Dalroy--"
"She told yu?"
"There was no need; I saw it all, though I was in Hell City at the time." He read the other's expression, and added, "You don't believe there are men who see things their fellows cannot?"
"I've met 'em; it was allus a case of too much tangle-foot."
Satan shrugged. "I can't convince you, of course, but I venture to predict that Joan will beg you not to mention her meeting with me. Adios, my friend; it may be I have misjudged you; we shall yet do things to our mutual advantage."
He waved a hand, spurred his mount, and was soon lost in the vegetation which clothed the lower slopes of the hills. The cowboy spat in disgust.
"Play-actor, but a damn dangerous one," he muttered. "Friend, huh? I'd sooner tie up with a rattlesnake. Oughta rubbed him out, but I'm bettin' the girl still thinks of him as he used to be, which ain't goin' to help me any."
Confirmation of this view came as he approached the ranch that evening and saw Joan herself riding towards him. She turned her horse when they met.
"I want to thank you for--this morning," she began. "What happened?"
Sudden saw her anxiety, and smiled. "Why, just nothin'a-tall," he replied. "I told that hombre he'd find the hills more healthy, an' he drifted."
Her relief was obvious. "This is the second service you have done me," she said, "and I am going to ask a third: will you please keep silent about this unfortunate affair? Knowledge of it would only embitter my father still more, and might drive him to some desperate reprisal."
"Anythin' yu say, goes, ma'am," the cowboy said quietly. "If I hadn't guessed who he was ..."
She smiled her gratitude. "I can't understand," she confided. "He was always wild, impetuous, but never mean or dishonourable. He seemed older too, and almost--inhuman."
"Broodin' over an injustice ages an' sours a man plenty fast," he told her, and--not knowing his own story--she was surprised at the venom in his voice. Then he added something he did not in the least believe, "Mebbe he ain't so bad as folks figure--I've knowed such cases."
The words made her think. Was he himself one of the cases he had "knowed"? She could not decide, but it seemed difficult to credit that this grave young man, whose rare smile transformed his face into that of a boy, could be a notorious killer. Perhaps he had only said it to comfort her. Impulsively she held out her hand.
"Thank you again," she said, and spurred her pony.
Sudden's eyes followed her. "Nig, there's fools yu couldn't drag into heaven at the end of a rope," he told his horse.
Chapter XII
Kenneth Keith looked up as the latest addition to his outfit stepped on to the verandah. A week had passed since he learned of the cowboy's sinister history, and nothing had happened to change his first impression.
"I'd like to be foot-loose for a day or so, seh," Sudden said. "Where do yore fellas go when they got coin to spend an' aim to have a good time?"
The rancher's face darkened at this unexpected request; it was more than a little early for a new hand to be seeking a holiday. But he knew the breed; when the urge for a spree possessed them, they would sacrifice their positions to ;ratify it.
"Work-shy already?" he asked sarcastically. "Red Rock kill clean you out quickly enough; women, drink, and cards, with a probable gun-fight thrown in; you'll find them all here."
"Thank yu, seh," Sudden replied. "That tale will do for the boys, but the truth is, I'm goin' to Hell City."
If the puncher had suddenly developed horns and a tail his employer could not have appeared more astonished.
"Are you tired of life?" he cried. "Why, they'll shoot you on sight."
"Yo're forgettin' my past," the puncher pointed out, and when Keith remained silent, "Didn't yu get the news' I warned yu about?"
"yes, but I decided to ignore it, and I'm asking no questions." a o d. Well, fella will be glad to see me."
"That is possible, if he knows who you are."
"Black Sam claims he's a wizard--finds out everythin'."
"That nigger is a superstitious old lunatic, saturated with witchcraft, voodoo, and like nonsense. To risk your life on that ..."
"Not any; the outfit is wise, an' I'm bettin' one of 'em is in Satan's pay."
"Which one?" the rancher asked sharply.
"Couldn't say," Sudden replied, and grinned. "It ain't Frosty nor Lazy--they's allus most amazin' broke."
Keith was silent for a space, considering this singular proposition, and a little suspicious. He reminded himself, however, that had the cowboy wished to desert he could have done so without warning, and the Red Rock fable was unnecessary unless he intended to return to the ranch.
"Why are you going, Green?"
There was a shade of anxiety in his tone which Sudden knew was not there on his account.
"Just to have a look at the fella an' his hide-out," he explained. "Sort o' spyin' out the land, yu savvy; I ain't gettin' no place, hangin' about here. He'll take it I'm ready to double-cross yu, an' that's what I'm gamblin' on." He hesitated for a moment. "Yu don't happen to have a picture o'--yore On?"
Keith frowned. "No, I--destroyed them," he said harshly. "Take care of yourself, Green; I will explain to Lagley."
As the puncher walked away, a low voice called from a window at the end of the building.
"These wooden walls are not sound-proof," Joan smiled. "I happened to hear your last question. Is this what you want? It was taken only a few months before he--went away."
Sudden scrutinized the photograph, which seemed oddly familiar. The costly cowboy clothes, ornate belt and weapons were there, but the face of the wearer was younger, smiling, and the eyes did not lack expression. A mark showed on the right side of the chin. He pointed to it, and the girl nodded.
"A faint scar, the only thing about him that hasn't altered," she said sadly. "You see, I was the cause of that. It happened when we were children: I had teased him, and running after me, he fell on a stone; the wound healed badly. All along I have been persuading myself there must be some mistake, but when I saw that ..."
The quiver in her voice and the trembling fingers as she took back the picture told him that she was very near tears.
"A fella who takes the wrong trail can come back an' start again," he consoled.