booming, and evidently the proprietor had been talking, for the afternoon's fracas appeared to be the sole topic of conversation. The smith, a big fellow, with a rugged but not unpleasing face, stepped at once to the cowboy.
'Mister, my name's Naylor, an' I'd like to shake with you,' he said. 'The way you played with them sots was good to see.'
They shook hands, Sudden mentioned his name, and was, in turn, presented to Jansen, the store-keeper, Polter, who ran an eating-house, and a dried-up, rather silent little man called Birt, who owned a freight-wagon, and was the town's link with the outside world.
'It was time someone showed 'em they don't own the place,' the store-keeper supplemented. 'Few weeks ago, Roden comes in, selects some goods, an' starts to walk out. When I remind him he ain't paid he looks ugly, an' sez, `Ain't my credit good?' I tells him I don't give none. `Y o're bebeginnin' to-day,' he replies, an' backs out with his gun on me. Well, life's worth more'n ten dollars.'
'They got a lesson this arternoon, but there'll be doin's when the news of it gits to Hell City,' Polter opined.
Sudden asked a question; it was the smith who answered:
'It's the stronghold of the worst band of rustlers an' road-agents in Arizona, the last refuge o' the hunted outlaw. The blacker a man's record is, the warmer his welcome. Satan, their leader calls hisself, an' it ain't no boast. Him an' his Imps has got this country buffaloed. That was four of 'em you manhandled.'
'Yu think they'll talk?' the puncher asked. 'Me, I'd be dumb as a clam.'
'Satan fin' out, sah,' Sam said dolefully. 'He hear eberyt'ing--he have de magic.'
Sudden laughed and slapped a gold piece on the bar. 'That's his magic, ol'-timer,' he replied. 'The most powerful in the world, save this.' He drew a cartridge from his belt and stood it beside the coin. 'Lead lets the life out'n a man an' all the gold in creation won't put it back. If he does hear, I guess yu needn't to worry--he won't have any sympathy for four men who let one send 'em packin'.'
'Somethin' in that,' Jansen admitted. 'By all accounts, they'll be lucky to git off with a tongue-lashin'.'
'What's he like?'
'Young--'bout yore age, I'd say--middlin' size, an' allus wears a mask, even amongst his own men,' was the reply. 'He's reputed to ride an' shoot like Old Nick hisself.'
'An' that's all yu know?'
The freighter spoke for the first time. 'Not quite,' he said. 'We know he don't like bein' discussed.' He looked sardonically at the stranger. 'Lem Roberts opened his mouth pretty wide a month back an' two days later we found him hanging from a tree on the trail-side with one o' them little red devils pinned to his vest.'
This ended the subject. Sudden replaced his cartridge, and pointed to the gold coin. 'Sam, I believe yo're a bit of a wizard yore own self,' he smiled. 'Just pass a hand over that an' see if yu can turn it into liquor; I'm settin' 'em up for the company.'
This generous gesture sealed the cowboy's popularity and did much to dispel the suspicion with which a frontier community was wont to receive a stranger. Even Black Sam forgot his fears for the future and regained his customary broad smile. It was not until later, when the saloon was closed,that his face grew gloomy again. Sudden went straight to the point:
'Yu fellas are holdin' out on me,' he said. 'Who is this jasper yu all 'pear to be so scared of?'
The negro shook his head. 'I dunno, sah--nobody dunno, but it's claimed he's Kunnel Keith's son, young Massa Jeff.' * Sudden's eyebrows rose. 'Keith o' the Double K?' he cried. 'How come?'
'Keith lose his wife when de chile is born,' Sam explained. 'I don' reckon he eber forgive de boy for dat--he was mighty 'tached to her. It mak' him hard like de flint, an' young Jeff he grow up de same, bot' proud an' obst'nate as de mule. It was when de boy comes back from college dat de big trouble begins, mebbe four-five years back. 'Stead o' bein' de owner's son, Jeff has to work as one o' de outfit, an' for de same pay. Well, he don' kick, but I 'spect he found it middlin' dull aroun' heah after de East, an' he spends a lot o' time at Red Rock, thirty mile no'th. De tales come o' drinkin', high play, an' den a man is hurt at de card-table. Foh his own name, de Kunnel gits him out'n de mess, but done tells him he neber wants to see his face agin. `Yo' shan't,' Jeff sez, `but dat don' mean I'm leavin' de country like a whipped houn' at yore biddin'.'
'Which might explain the mask, huh?'
'Suah looks dataway, sah. We don' heah no news o' Jeff for a good whiles an' den a herd o' Double K steers is stole; one o' de rustlers has his face hid by a red bandanner. Next, word comes dat folk is livin' in de ol' Injun dwellin's an' dat's de start o' Hell City.'
'An' what d'yu think yoreself, Sam?'
'I'se feared it's true, sah,' was the reluctant reply. 'Satan visit Dugout onct, an' he look like Jeff; same size, voice, dress, an' use his favourite queer cuss-word, `By Christmas.' '
For some moments Sudden was silent, pondering over the singular story, and then he put a question.
'She de orphan chile of an ol' friend--de Kunnel took charge of her 'bout ten year back,' Sam told him. 'I guess he hoped she an' Jeff'd tie up an' dat was suthin' else he had agin de boy.'
'She's pretty enough to please most men,' the puncher said.
'A mighty sweet gal,' the saloon-keeper agreed, 'an' if de 01' Man hadn't showed his han' so plain ...'
Sudden nodded. 'Ever been to this Heil City?' he asked.
'Lordy, no sah,' Sam said. 'I don' want no truck with dal outlaw trash. 'Sides, a fella snoopin' roun' dere is li'ble to catch a bullet.'
The obvious warning had no effect. 'I must have a look at it,' Sudden smiled. 'I'm curious, an' I might wanta join up with Mister Satan, after all.'
He left his host scratching his woolly poll in perplexity over this last disturbing proposition.
Sudden had just finished his morning meal in the parlour when he heard a loud and cheerful voice in the bar.
''Lo, Sam, yu got a cow-person stayin' here--tall fella with hair as black as yore hide--who looks like a rustler an' probably is one?'
'Mistah Green, sah,' the saloon-keeper began.
'That's the name,' chimed in the cheerful one. 'Yu go tell the gent that the sheriff o' Dugout needs him right away.'
'How long dis town own a sher'ff?' Sam queried. ''Bout ten minutes--I just bin app'inted a-purpose, an'see, if he tries to leave by the back window, smoke him up.'
'De debbil! What he wanted foh, Frosty?'
'Just murder, arson, robbery with violence, cheatin' at cyards, desertin' his wife an' kids, an'--'
'Consortin' with a low character by the name o' Rud Homer,' put in a quiet voice from the doorway leading to the rear of the premises. 'Howdy.'
Frosty stared at him open-mouthed. 'Musta bin romancin' --yu ain't marked,' he muttered, and then, 'Told Naylor just now that I'd come in to git yu an' he advised me to fetch the rest o' the outfit. Said yu fought four o' Satan's toughs yestiddy an' threw 'em out on their ears.'
'He was stringin' yu,' Sudden said, and added, 'I hope there's somethin' yu do better than lyin'.'
'Shore there is,' Frosty said eagerly. 'Set 'em up, ol'timer.' He dived into a pocket and a look of dismay followed the action. 'Hell, I won't have a nickel till pay-day.'
'Yu can hock yore gun,' Sudden suggested, with a sly wink at the man behind the bar. 'That's the rule, ain't it, Sam?'
'Suah is, gents,' was the reply.
Frosty turned belligerently upon him. 'An' who in blazes is goin' to fall for that in this country?' he asked.
'Scar an' three of his friends fell for it,' Sudden said. 'Fell considerable hard, too.'
Light came to the Double K rider. 'Then Naylor told the truth--yu did mix it with them scallawags?'
'There was a li'l argument,' Sudden admitted. 'They left in a hunry an' forgot their shootin'-irons.'
Frosty grinned and slammed his gun down. 'Trot out the pain-killer, Sam,' he said. 'The new rule goes.'
The saloon-keeper pushed the weapon back. 'Not foh mah fren's, sah,' he corrected. 'Dey's on de house.'
'Well sheriff,' Sudden began.
-Aw, forget it,' the other smiled. 'Dugout's got no use for one anyways, she's dead, an' on'y needs an
