Through the holes in the mask the unblinking eyes regarded him with malicious satisfaction. 'Where is the man you took away?'
'I dunno--ain't seen him since.'
'you are lying, as you have been all through. Are you the outlaw, Sudden, or is this a lie, too?'
He held up a paper, the bill issued by the sheriff of Four-ways. The puncher laughed scornfully.
'So that's why Steve stole it? Yeah, it's me all right. D'yu figure any fella would borrow a reputation like that?'
'If he wanted to work for me and win my confidence, yes,' was the reply.
Sudden saw that the man's keen mind was leading him perilously near the facts and made an effort to head him off.
'I drifted here in search of a job, an' if yu an' that houn' Lagley hadn't framed me I'd still be ridin' for the Double K,' he pointed out. 'An' I basted four o' yore bullies the day I come.'
'Which might be a good way of attracting my attention,' the other countered. He studied the paper again. 'The description agrees--you must be this Sudden--'
'Gimme back my guns an' I'll prove it,' the puncher offered.
Satan appeared not to hear. 'No, he couldn't use a man like you,' he muttered, and then, through his set teeth, 'By God! I'll know the truth if I have to cut your heart out. Tell Muley to get ready.'
Scar shot a vindictive glance at his prisoner. 'Muley has done with whippin',' he said, and went on to explain.
Satan heard him in silence and then came the inevitable gibe: 'Only four of you against one? Roden, your courage astounds me; you may yet live to be a man.' He looked darkly at the puncher. 'Killing Muley won't save you; we must think of something else.' He bent his head. When he raised it again a fiendish grin distorted his lips; so might the King of Hell have smiled at the writhings of a tortured soul. 'You robbed me of a target once,' he said. 'You shall replace him.'
At his call, Silver appeared, received instructions, and went out. Sudden was remembering Dolver, to whom he had dealt a merciful death. Was he to be immured in that living tomb, to endure the agony of dying daily? Often enough in his adventurous life he had faced eternity undismayed but the prospect of such an end brought a black moment. One leap, and the guns at his back would speak, with swift oblivion. But the puncher was not one to throw his hand in; he would play the game out, win or lose. The big bell began to ring, slow, measured strokes, like a death-knell.
His tanned face rigid as that of a redskin, he was herded into the street, where a crowd was waiting. The murmur of voices died away as the culprit, his guards, and the masked man came out.
'Where's Muley?' a blowzy woman asked.
'In hell, I reckon,' a man at her elbow replied. 'This is the hombre what sent him there. It ain't goin' to be a thrashin'; see the way they's fixin' him?'
Silver was busy. Having placed the condemned man with his back to the post, he bound him tightly to it with rawhide thongs so that only his head was movable. The big hat he flung down.
'You won't need it no more,' he said.
'The Chief's goin' to shoot him hisself, like he did that dago, Ramon,' the fellow who had spoken before informed his neighbour.
'It'll be quick then,' she answered, her tone tinged with disappointment.
'Mebbe not. That time he shot all round him without drawin' blood an' then turns away as if that's all. I see Ramon's eyes light up an' phut! there's a bullet in his brain.'
'He's a good-looker,' the woman commented. 'Seems a'most a pity ...'
'Hell, men is common enough.'
The dwarf completed his work, and Satan, standing about a dozen paces in front of the puncher, raised a hand dramatically for silence.
'This man is a traitor, therefore a danger to all of us,' he announced.
'I am about to punish him.'
He drew one of the ivory-butted revolvers from his belt and, scarcely taking aim, fired. Sudden felt the thud of the missile as it embedded itself in the post just above his head. A gasp from the crowd broke the tense silence which followed the crack of the report.
'He's missed,' the woman whispered.
'He's playin' with him, like he did the other. Gawd, he's a cruel devil. Look, if he ain't laughin'.'
In fact, it seemed so, for beneath the mask the lips were curled back like those of a snarling dog, as the man bent forward to mark the result of his shot. The face of the target might have been cut out of stone, the eyes staring steadily into the sunlight which in a moment might change to everlasting darkness.
'A shade too high, Sudden. I am out of practice--you know why,' the taunting voice said. 'That must be mended.' Again he pulled the trigger and the shot struck a little below the first. 'Better,' he smiled complacently, and waited nerve-shattering moments before making a third attempt. This time Sudden felt the cold breath of the bullet as it stirred his hair, and steeled himself for the fourth, which ... It came, bringing a streak of fire, as though a red-hot iron had been laid across his scalp. Satan was speaking.
'You have begun to die, Sudden. Unless you supply the information I want in the morning, you will continue to die, slowly, as Dolver did. Think it over.' He looked round at the spectators. 'Anyone who approaches or speaks to this man will take his place.'
He thrust the revolver back into his belt, and followed by his henchman, went to his quarters. The crowd dispersed quickly, the show was over, and--curiosity could be very costly in Hell City.
'Ain't you goin' to have him watched?' Silver ventured. 'Don't you trust your knots?' his master said sharply. 'He'll have to be a wizard to undo 'em.'
'Well, do you imagine any person will dare to interfere with him?' was the arrogant answer.
Meanwhile, the reprieved man was wondering whether he ought to be glad or sorry. Tough as he was, the strain of the ordeal had tried him to the utmost. His head smarted but he knew it was, as yet, the merest graze. Tomorrow, unless he gave in--and he had no intention of doing so--the lead would bite a little more shrewdly, and the next day ... But it was no use thinking that way. He tried to move his stiffened limbs, but Silver had done a good job, and he soon realized that there was no hope in that direction. So he watched the shadows deepen, the stars come out, and the denizens of this criminal community slinking from hole to hole like a colony of predatory vermin. From the saloon came the jingle of a piano and the shouted chorus of a song.
All the passers-by, he noticed, gave the whipping-post a wide berth, but presently, a stumble and muffled curse from just behind him announced an exception. Unable to turn, he could only wait. Then came a whispered word.
'Jim!'
'Frosty? What th'--?'
'That'll keep. Wait till I cut these blame' hobbles, an' we'll flit. I guess this ain't a healthy place for us.'
'Yu'll never guess better. How'd yu get in?'
'Down the hole yu showed me. There was a jigger on guard at the bottom, but I rapped him on the head with my gun an' he let me pass.'
'He let--say, will he let yu go back?'
There was a subdued chuckle in Frosty's whisper. He won't care--a rap.'
By this time the captive was free. Fortunately the post was near the cliff and in darkness. Sudden stretched his cramped limbs and drew a long breath.
'Beat it,' he said. 'I'll join yu at the Twin Diamond. I gotta get Nigger.'
'Risk yore life for a hoss?'
'Just that; there's been times when but for him I wouldn't have one to risk. Don't worry, I got it all planned.' Frosty knew it was useless to argue. 'Well, it's yore life,' he grumbled, 'but a fella can push his luck too hard.'
The gloom swallowed him and Sudden turned in the direction of the saloon. He had almost reached it when the door was flung back and a man wearing two gun-belts staggered out; it was Roden--alone. The fugitive crouched behind a corner of the building and as the half-tipsy ruffian passed, struck upwards, rising with the blow. The granite fist, moving like a released spring, landed full on the point of the jaw and Scar dropped as though hit by a thunderbolt. Sudden dragged the inert form back from the road, and with a sigh of content, buckled on his own
