"I'll take Nigger along, an' have a look round."
"Better wear this," Satan replied, producing one of the red badges. "It will tell the men that you are now one of us, and may save you trouble."
Sudden's truculent tone was back. "If anybody starts somethin' I hope yu got a good big graveyard."
The cold eyes glinted. "There's room in it," was the answer.
Chapter XIII
It did not take the cowboy long to find the corral, formed by fencing an indentation in the cliff on the left of the street. There was a trough of water, and scanty tussocks of coarse grass afforded some sort of feed. Sudden surveyed it whimsically.
"Short commons, of friend," he said, as he turned the black loose, "but yu ain't gotta live here--yet. Don't yu go to learnin' bad habits from them other rough-necks."
By the side of the corral was a largish timber building, a weather-worn sign on which announced it as "Dirk's Saloon." Carrying his saddle and rifle, Sudden went in. A middle-aged, pock-marked man behind the bar was the sole occupant; he promptly produced a bottle.
"Drinkin' alone is a poor kind o' pastime," the customer said genially, and when the other had helped himself, added, "Got a bed for me to-night?"
"Guess I can fix it," was the reply. "Seen you with the Chief. New chum, huh?"
"Yu might call it that," the cowboy agreed. "So yu were there? It warn't a pretty sight, but a fella who double-crosses his pals don't deserve pity."
"You said it. Pedro got what he shorely asked for."
They drank again, and Sudden, having dumped his belongings in his bedroom, went out. Turning westwards, he discovered that the street narrowed again to a mere defile closed by a gate similar to that by which he had entered. He stopped short of it, and retraced his steps. A little beyond the saloon, on the opposite side, the sound of sobs arrested him. Acting upon an impulse, he stole along a burrow-like assage outside which he had halted. It led to one of the rimitive caves, and there he found the woman, Anita, on her i ees by some scattered blankets. Two stools, and a few attered cooking utensils comprised all the furniture. She looked up as he entered, and said dully: "What now? Haven't you done enough?"
"Somebody seemed to be in trouble," Sudden replied. "I thought mebbe I could help."
"Help?" she repeated harshly. "From one who wears the Devil's trade-mark? Can you bring the dead back to life, you who stood by and laughed as he died?"
"Yu got me wrong, ma'am," he said gently. "I ain't much iven to laughin' an' doin's like that shore don't amuse me. I ouldn't stop it--they'd got the goods on him."
She hesitated, her tear-drenched eyes still suspicious. "It s true," she murmured at length. "That hell-dog knows everything--he has a spirit. Even at this moment maybe--"
"Shucks ! he's no more'n an ornery human bein'--a mighty ornery one at that. He's got spies an' I'm bettin' he pays 'em well. Go an' tell him what I've said an' make yore peace."
Her eyes flashed. "After what he did? I would die first," she cried passionately. "Wasn't it enough to take life without ...?"
She broke down, but he gradually learned the story. They had brought the dead man to his wretched abode, and when she had begged them to let her bury the body, had hurled it headlong through the opening which provided light and entilation, with the cruel gibe that the coyotes would save her the trouble. Sudden looked out; more than a hundred feet below he could see the tossing tops of trees above theundergrowth. Satan had spoken truly; there was indeed room in the grave-yard.
"Mebbe I can find an' bury him for yu," he said.
She stared at him, wonderingly. "Stranger, if you'll do that, I--"
"Shucks," he interrupted hastily, and beat a retreat. Getting his horse, he rode to the western gate, which the man in charge opened without demur. For a mile the wagon-track rose and fell, swinging round then where it dipped down into the valley which the bandit town overlooked. Thrusting through the thick brush along the foot of the cliff he arrived near the place where he judged the body must fall. Presently he found it--a shapeless heap in a patch of tall grass. He had no implement to dig a hole but there was a convenient crevice and in this he laid the poor broken frame, piling heavy stones to defend it from desecration. Then, with his knife, he carved a rude cross to mark the spot.
Night was nigh when he again entered the town, and in the shadows opposite the saloon, saw the woman waiting. He told her what he had done and the drooping figure straightened.
"So, I have only to avenge him," she said, and her low voice was venomous. It softened again as-she continued, "Stranger, in this den of wild beasts it is good to have a friend; remember you can count on one who will not forget what she owes you."
"Why, I ain't done nothin'," he protested.
"You think not? Yet if that murderer learns of it he will treat the pair of us as he did Pedro."
"We won't tell him," Sudden smiled. "Adios."
He swung his horse over towards the corral, and when he had vanished in the gloom, Anita returned to the hovel she called home. Sinking down on the pile of rugs, she shook her head in perplexity.
"Why is he here?" she asked herself. "He's not like the rest." She had heard he was a gunman, renowned in the West, and he looked it, but there was a cleanness, a self-reliance, and lack of bluster which made him stand out among the criminals and outcasts who found a refuge in Hell City. The thought that this stranger was no admirer of the man she had vowed vengeance upon brought a tigerish smile to her lips.
Sudden's appearance in the saloon earned him no more than a glance or two; a new face was a common occurrence, and his was not even that. Some two dozen men were present, playing cards, dicing, or drinking at the bar. Among the latter was Muley, who seemed to be the chief attraction. He was evidently proud of his morning's performance and could speak of nothing else, his one grievance being that it had not lasted longer.
"You hit too hard," one of the group round him remarked.
"Hard?" bellowed Muley. "Why, I hadn't mor'n begun to stroke him when he goes an' dies on me. I'm tellin' you, the Chief's gittin' poor stuff these days; calls theirselves men an' ain't got the guts of a louse."
His malignant gaze travelled round the room, rested for an instant on the puncher, and passed on to a youth sitting alone on a stool at the end of the bar. Sudden had already noticed him and speculated as to what boyish escapade had brought him there. With a wink to his companions, the flogger lurched across, and said roughly: "What's yore name, you?"
The lad looked at him with drink-bemused eyes. "Ben Holt," he replied, adding, "I on'y come in to-day."
"Well, if that ain't good news. The rule is for newcomers to set up drinks for the crowd. What about it?"
Ben Holt laughed dismally. "Yo're too late, mister, I'm near busted," he explained. "If I'd knowed earlier ... "
The bully growled an oath, and swinging his right arm struck the boy a flat-handed blow on the side of his head which swept him to the floor. Then he seated himself on the vacant stool, and with an impudent grin at Sudden, said: "That's what we do to fresh fellas who don't pay their footin'."
All eyes were on the puncher as he stepped unhurriedly forward. "I'm a fresh fella, an' I'm not buyin'. So what?"
For ten tense seconds, Muley stared into the grey-blue eyes of the man who had called his bluff, seeking a way out. The other found it for him.
"Yu yaller dawg," he grated. "If I'd a whip yu should have a taste of yore own medicine, but as it is ..."
His hand rose and fell, landing on the fellow's bloated cheek with such force as to send him sprawling. Lying in the dirt, spitting out inarticulate curses, he clawed feebly at the gun he dared not draw. Covert grins were on the faces of most of the onlookers--a bully has few friends in the day of discomfiture. Sudden took no further notice of him, but went to the boy, who had got up and was watching the scene with wide eyes.