Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 03 - The Marshal of Lawless(1933) by Oliver Strange

ain’t noways critical, an’ my voice ain’t started
a stampede yet. Won’t yu set down?”
                 “I
just called to see the marshal,” she said. “I suppose he is busy?”
                 “Not
so as yu’d notice it,” Pete said gloomily. “The durned town is dead—nothin’
happens.
                 Ever
since me an’ the marshal took office”—he grinned pridefully at the
phrase—“folks here has been asleep. Yu’d think we were keepin’ Sunday school.
I’m tellin’ yu, we got this town so tame we’ll be losin’ our jobs. If suthin’
don’t bust loose soon—”
                 He
broke off suddenly as a rider dashed into view at the western end of the town.
Bent low in the saddle, he was almost invisible in the clouds of dust which
rose beneath the hammering hoofs of his horse. Barsay thrust the girl inside
the door.
                 “That
gent has pressin’ business with somebody, an’ mebbe it’s me,” he apologized.
                 “Bullets
ain’t got no respect for beauty.”
                 It
appeared that he was correct in his surmise, for on reaching the marshal’s
office, the rider pulled down his panting pony and leapt off. Barsay then saw
that it was Andy Bordene, his face grimed with dust and perspiration, drawn and
haggard, his eyes wild.
                 “Where’s
the marshal?” he cried hoarsely.
                 At
that moment Green came up, having just turned his mount into the Red Ace
corral.
                 “Who
wants me?” he asked, and then, recognizing the young rancher. “What’s the
trouble, Bordene?”
                 “Dad’s
been shot—murdered!” came the broken answer. “Marshal,
I want yu to help me find the dog who did it.”
                 With
a pitiful cry Tonia ran to the side of the stricken boy, striving to comfort as
she forced him to sit down, for the shock and subsequent punishing ride had
taken a heavy toll and he was all in. Green slipped into the saloon and came
back with a glass.
                 “Drink
this, and then tell us about it,” he said.
                 The
raw spirit gave Andy strength and steadied his shattered nerves. After a moment
or two he looked up, and in a dull monotone, told his story.
                 “Dad
started for town early this mornin’,” he began. “I suppose he got here?”
                 “Yeah. I saw him myself, goin’ into the bank,” Green told
him.
                 The boy. nodded . “He told me he was
drawin’ some money an’ he intended to come back pretty prompt,” Andy said. “I
set out for Lawless ‘bout two hours later, an’ when I got to the Old Mine I
found him lyin’ in the trail. His hoss was grazing close by, an’ at first I
thought he’d been pitched or had a sunstroke . Then I
saw the blood—he’d been shot in the back. Just as I stooped over him, he opened
his eyes, said one word, an’ was—gone.”
                 His
voice tailed away to a whisper, and as he finished his head dropped
despairingly.
                 Tonia’s
arm pressed his shoulders in silent sympathy. She knew how he felt; she herself
had faced the same tragic happening.
                 “What
was the word?” the marshal asked.
                 “Sudden,”
was the reply. “That damned outlaw has bushwhacked my dad for a few paltry
dollars. Marshal, we gotta get him; I’ll never rest till—” His voice rose
hysterically as he strove to stand up. Green pressed him back into his seat.
                 “We’ll
get him, sooner or later,” he promised, and his voice was stern. “Yu stay with
Miss Tonia till we fetch our bosses.”
                 They
returned in a few moments to find Andy sitting tight-lipped, his dull gaze
staring into vacancy. The girl stood silently by, her