Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 02 - Sudden(1933) Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the marshal two of the bystanders untied the body and laid it on
the sidewalk. “Hell’s flames, it’s Kit Purdie—thought I reckernized his roan ! ” cried one of them; adding meaningly, “yu won’t have far
to look for them as did this, Sam.”
                 “Keep
yore fool trap closed—Up to now there ain’t nothin’ to show who done it,” the
officer snapped, but his forehead wrinkled in a worried frown. “Why didn’t the
damn young idjut pull his freight like I told him?”
                 He
bent over the body and then straightened up. “Somebody fetch Doc. Toley,” he ordered, and turned to the puncher. “What
d’yu know ‘bout this?”
                 Sitting
slackly in his saddle, the puncher told his story. The mention of the glimpsed
grey horse brought a curse from Slype. He looked malignantly at Sudden.
                 “We
on’y got yore word,” he said. “Yu mighta done it yoreself.”
                 The
accused man smiled in derision. “An’ fetched him into show yu? Oh, yeah,” he
scoffed.
                 “It
would ‘a’ bin a good bluff,” retorted the officer. “Lemme see yore gun.”
                 At
this demand the stranger stiffened, and there was an ominous rasp in his voice
as he replied, “Which end would yu like to look at? She’s a Winchester .44 an’
the barrel is foul; I told yu I fired once.”
                 Ere
the marshal could reply to this obvious challenge, a short, fat man, with long,
unkempt hair, and a clever if somewhat bloated face, pushed his way
unceremoniously through the crowd. He was clearly the worse for liquor, but his
speech was careful, precise.
                 “What
do you want now, Slippery?” he asked, and then, as he saw the outstretched
figure, “young Purdie, eh? So the Burdettes have downed him?”
                 The
marshal gritted out an oath. “We dunno; yu got no right to say that, Doc.,” he
growled.
                 “I
have a right to say just what I damn please, Slippery,” the medico retorted.
“If you and your friends the Burdettes don’t like it, suit yourselves. What’s
the use of sending for me now? I can’t put life into a dead man.”
                 The
marshal’s mean eyes flashed an ugly look at him. “Ain’t askin’ yu to,” he said
sullenly. “Want yu to dig suthin’ out—the bullet; mebbe it’ll give us a
pointer.”
                 Toley
turned the corpse so that it lay face downwards, cut
away the clothing which covered the wound, and began to probe. With the morbid
curiosity of a crowd the world over, the onlookers jostled one another to get a
view, and the doctor cursed them when the stamping feet threatened to engulf
him. At length the gruesome task was done and he stood up, the bloodstained
pellet of lead between his fingers. The marshal examined it.
                 “Looks
like a .38 to me,” he said reluctantly, and the frown on his face was heavier.
                 “Shore
is,” agreed half a dozen of the nearest spectators. “What did I tell yu, Sam?”
cried the fellow who had spoken before. “Luce Burdette uses a .38.”
                 “Yu
didn’t tell me nothin’ ‘cept that yore mouth opens too easy, an’ I knowed that
afore,” snapped the officer. “Luce ain’t got the on’y .38 in the world, has
he?”
                 “He’s
got the on’y one in these parts that I knows of,” was
the reply.
                 “King
Burdette’ll be glad to hear o’ yore interest in his family,” sneered Slype. “Hell!
                 Here
comes Ol’ Man Purdie; what cussed luck brought him to town to-day?”
                 Stepping
heavily but swiftly along the sidewalk, with the short, clipped stride of one
who has spent much of his life in the saddle, came a
sturdily-built,