Ransom by Miles Overholt Read online

  Action Stories, September, 1932

  We ain’t sot over it yet. Two-faced Joe rustled a city-bred yearlin’. Big Lip Barlow tried to shoot

  ’im loose. And me and Doug Turner was in the middle.

  T was a nice, peaceable day. Doug Turner Caywood, the dang joy annihilator, to send a had just wiggled hisself around the outside stuttering messenger to tell Doug and me, Hap I of two fingers of George Chichester’s kill- Hazard, to dangle over to his office and bring

  ’em-quick elixir and unrolled some words.

  our sensibilities with us, at that serious stage

  “A toast, gents and cow hands,” he

  of the afternoon. Which is carrying an order said.

  too far. But we shoved our way over, Jim

  “Make mine liver an’ onions,” busted

  Caywood being a feller you pay attention to, in Pete Howard.

  owing to his ornery disposition and other But Doug was busy at his toasting.

  mirthful characteristics.

  The peace architect was lying all

  “Here’s to a temperance dinner,

  warped and twisted up on the cot in his office With water in glasses tall,

  trying to get an injunction to stop his And coffee and tea at the end—and me

  rheumatism from raiding his joints. He didn’t Not

  there

  at

  all!”

  get up and bow politely when company came anyhow.

  Which made it time by the Bull-

  “I sent for yuh two wuthless rannies

  thrower Watch Company for us to shudder because I need a coupla sober men to run a down another modicum of panther milk. And little errand for me,” he said, grinning yet another’n.

  sourcastically among his rheumatics, and then And it was just like Sheriff Jim saying “Ouch!” to kinda take the curse off.

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  “Yuh didn’t do anything of the kind,”

  “An’ for this lil’ chore—” said Doug, said Doug, “because yuh know dang well no grinning from ’ere to there.

  sober man would be seen with yuh.”

  “Yuh get half the reeward money,”

  “I

  am kinda particular thataway,” said said Caywood. “Ain’t that enough?”

  Caywood. “That’s why I want yuh fellers to

  “Uh-huh,” we said. And then we went

  tackle this job alone.”

  back to George Chichester’s place to find out

  “What job?” we would like to be how many swallows it takes to make a pleasantly informed.

  summer, and spent that twenty-five hundred

  “Read that.” And the high sheriff dollars six consecutive times. But the passed over a yellow telegram, which Doug doggoned train whistled just as we had got read aloud. Me, I never did like telegrams, settled down to our important research work.

  anyway. They are nearly always yellow.

  So, without comment or other forms of The message read:

  advertising our business at the deepot, we went over and met the Coast Flyer, waving Sheriff,

  our hands to it like it was an old friend.

  Rye Patch, Nev.

  “Yuh get on the rear coach, Hap,”

  Search train No. 43, Coast Flyer, for Doug said. “I’ll come through the train from kidnaped boy, aged 8, son of C. Hamilton the smokin’ car. If’n yuh find ’em, don’t do Levering, Montclair, N. J. Believed in hands anything till I come along. I’ll do the same at of two gangsters, and woman known as my end.”

  Platinum Sadie. Boy is blond, blue eyes, and Which was the sense of the meeting,

  is named Thomas. Reward of five thousand only that wasn’t the way it worked out.

  dollars offered by his father for his safe return.

  Because we didn’t have to do no such thing.

  Arrest and hold kidnapers.

  For, just as the train stopped all outa breath, why, the dang kid hisself busted down the HENNESY,

  steps of a Pull and made a dash and a coupla hyphens acrost the track tor’ds the deepot.

  Chief of Police.

  He was running right at us, and I

  reached out and grabbed at his whereabouts.

  “Me, I can’t walk none,” the sheriff

  “Hi, that yuh, Tommy?” I inquired, personal.

  gritted with what few teeth that would grit.

  He answered the description on all counts.

  “I’m deputizin’ yuh ornery buzzards to board

  “And not a moving picture,” the kid

  that dang train, due in about a hour, an’ get yelped as he dodged and went right on past that kid.”

  me.

  “Where at is yore deputy?” Doug

  wondered, doing my wondering with the same WELL, just then a big crooked-faced feller breath.

  leaped down the steps and come a-diggin’

  “Abe’s over to Gait,” said Jim. “Won’t after the kidnaped boy, like a Sunday after a be back for a coupla days.”

  wild Saturday night.

  “Any doubt about ’em being on the

  “Stop him!” he yodeled at us. “He’s

  train?” I asked, then.

  running away! Tommy, come back here!”

  “I reckon they’re pretty dang shore of

  “Oh, yeah!” snickered Tommy,

  it,” said Caywood. “Them high-class Eastern slipping outa other hands and pushing hisself officers don’t make many mistakes. Anyways, tor’ds the beckoning hence.

  none that gets into print.”

  “Grab that hombre,” ordered Doug,

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  turning hisself loose after the departing kid.

  hawse got good and tired of all that

  So I hauled off and grabbed Mister

  foolishness, and turned acrost the hills and run Gangster, Esq., by something loose and back to town, taking his passenger with him.

  entangling, and brought him down to

  household size.

  I RODE back to town, too, but Doug hadn’t

  “Lemme go!” he screeched, trying to

  been there or anywheres else, and Caywood biff me on some good biffing spot. “The boy’s didn’t know what had happened. So I told him running away!”

  and he said it was good work, only it was all

  “Yuh don’t mean to tell me!” I said,

  wrong, and for me to go find Doug and snag hanging onto him vociferously. “Outsmarted him back.

  yuh, didn’t he, yuh dang kidnaper!”

  So then I rode over to the 7L7 ranch

  “The little devil!” the gangster where Doug Turner and I make a mild growled, trying to break away. “Lemme go!

  pretense of earning our wages, but he hadn’t The train’s starting!”

  been there none, either.

  Then I heard a kinda shrill whistle,

  Then I got me an idea, and it took me which wasn’t made by the train, because trains by the hand and led me over tor’ds the cabin don’t whistle through their teeth, and I knew which Doug and I owned over on Flowering that Doug had got his man—or boy.

  Mesa.

  But the big walloper I had been

  But before I reached the cabin along

  adhering myself to played a dirty trick on me.

  came Doug and Tommy.

  When I half-way turned my head to see where We reined in to chin some.

  at was Doug, why, he up and kicked me in the

  “I was just coming ...” Doug started to shins, and I had to leave go of him to take care say, but nine, ten puncture berries came along of my cussing.

  and put a r
ow of periods after the fourth word, Then he lathered hisself around the

  and we unbuttoned our broncs and slashed corner of the deepot, and the train, having back up the hill to the cabin quicker’n yuh nothing better to do, pulled out.

  could say grace.

  There we were.

  Because there was a posse of about

  I heard a shout and the clatter of hoofs, twenty men making the outlook discouraging and there was Doug Turner and Tommy, the for us, and we didn’t want to stop and stage no kidnapee, shagging outa town, while the deebate over any topics of the day. Not with crooked-faced gangster was throwing hunks of bullets for gestures, we didn’t.

  red-hot fatality at ’em with an automatic.

  By the time we got inside the cabin

  Then, seeing Doug easing hisself outa range, yuh’d a thought it was raining lead pencils.

  the fightin’ kidnaper climbed aboard a hawse And was that kidnaped kid scared!

  belonging to some waddy or other and took Say, he was grinning on all parts of his after him.

  face, and hollering, “Whoopee! Let’s kill ’em Which seemed to be the proper and scalp ’em!”

  moment of time for me to act as a kinda But we didn’t do no shooting. Because chaser for the afternoon’s cocktail, so I went why? Because we recognized dang near all and got my mustang and joined the peerade.

  them fellers, and they was cow hands and But I lost the gunman somewheres, or

  citizens from Rye Patch, headed by that dang he lost hisself, or something, and Doug wasn’t crooked-faced gangster. He had gone and got nowheres in sight.

  him a posse somehow and was aiming to get I learned later that the gangster’s back that kid.

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  We couldn’t figger out how he had

  we stayed. But I heard Doug say:

  persuaded them roughnecks to come along

  “How come that kidnaper talked yuh

  and irritate us thataway, but there they was in into jumpin’ us?”

  all their pristine beauty.

  “Kidnaper? Hell! Is he a kidnaper?”

  “Aw, lemme have a gun, will you,

  gasped Ham.

  Doug,” Tommy begged. “I betcha I can knock

  “Caywood deputized Hap and me to

  some of those guys off their horses.”

  rescue this kid from three kidnapers off’n the

  “Shore, yuh could,” said Doug, “only

  train,” Doug told him. “We done got the kid, we don’t really wanta kill any of ’em, if we but that gangster got away from Hap. He can help it. Yuh see, Tommy, ol’ hoss, most of chased us, but we outrun him. Then he musta them fellers are friends of ours.”

  gone back and got yuh fellers started.”

  “Friends—yeah? I didn’t know friends

  Tommy was listening clost and

  shot at you,” said the kid, wondering.

  grinning all the while. I never saw a feller

  “Well, these kind do. I guess they’re enjoy being a prisoner so much in my life.

  kinda mistook,” Doug explained. “Soon’s they

  “Yeh,” Ham was talking. “The feller

  know we’re rescuin’ yuh, they’ll lay off’n us.”

  said yuh an’ Hap had stole the kid right outa

  “Is that one of yore kidnapers—that

  his arms. Said he was lookin’ after the crooked-faced gent which chased yuh?” I youngster for his folks. Said the kid was a asked the lad.

  plumb salty little rascal an’ made him trouble

  “Yeah, he’s a kidnaper, all right,” alla time an’ was jus’ bein’ ornery an’ causin’

  Tommy answered, grinning about something.

  a disturbance of some kind every time the

  “That’s Joe Mix. I don’t like him.”

  train stopped—hoppin’ off’n the train an’

  “I should think not,” I said.

  hidin’ an’ runnin’ away an’ raisin’ hell at all But we didn’t have much time for four corners.”

  conversation and discussion of interesting

  “Why wouldn’t he try to get away?”

  situations, because them rannies was demanded Doug.

  encircling the cabin and pretty soon now

  “Yeah,” I chimed in.

  somebody was going to start making history.

  “Hell! That’s a different story. Sorry, But Doug Turner had some kinda idea

  Doug. I’ll go back an’ grab that peckerwood and was unwrapping it, and the first thing we an’ take the boys back to town,” said Ham.

  knew he was waving a white handkerchief out A kinda wicked light come into the

  the window like mebbe it was a dove or an eyes of the kid, and a crafty sorta grin spread olive branch.

  over his face.

  The shooting came to a comma, or

  “Sure, I was kidnaped,” he said then.

  pause, and somebody yelled:

  “Two-faced Joe was holding me for a big

  “Whatcha

  want?”

  ransom.”

  “We want to talk to Ham Beall,”

  “Yeh, we know it,” I said. “But it’ll be hollered Doug. “The rest of yuh hombres stay all right now.”

  put.”

  “Yeh, but aren’t we going to have any more fights?” wondered the angelic little AFTER unraveling some language for a feller.

  moment or two, Ham Beall, foreman for the

  “Yuh never can tell,” I told him. “That Lazy-K, came a-riding up tor’ds the cabin.

  Two-faced Joe is a bad egg, yuh can see that.”

  Doug went out to meet him, after

  “Good!” said Tommy.

  orderin’ Tommy and me to stay outa sight. So Ham Beall rode back to the waiting

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  5

  posse, and we saw him flip up his gun and We doused the lamp and tried to peek

  take Mr. Two-faced Joe into camp. He seemed out, but it was too dark for much success in to unfolding the right sorta story to the posse, that worthy endeavor.

  because a coupla waddies clumb down and Then, after another round or two had

  wrapped the gangster up for mailing, and then been poured into the logs, and the window had they started back to town.

  lost a coupla panes, and other misdemeanors had been foisted upon an unsuspecting public, IT was dusk by now and the kid was hollering a voice came tootering in.

  for something to eat, so we put up the hawses

  “Hello, the house I”

  and throwed some chuck together.

  “Hello,

  yoreself,” Doug answered.

  “Might as well stay here tonight,” “What in hell’s eating on yuh guys, anyway?”

  Doug said. “Jim knows we got the kid, and

  “We want that kid,” the voice

  he’ll slough that gunman in the clink. Then answered, full of grit and grime.

  we’ll ride in early tomorrer and do us some

  “Yeah? So do we,” said Doug.

  collectin’.”

  “An’ we’re gonna have him!”

  Which suited Tommy first class. His

  “That makes it an argument,” hollered main grief was that he couldn’t kill him no Doug. “So’re we.”

  possemen.

  “Aw, shoot his face shut!” yelled

  “Maybe they’ll come out in the Tommy, now plenty awake, and full of morning, or maybe tonight, and shoot at us enthusiasm and blood lust.

  some more,” he said, hopeful.

  “Who’s talkin’?” Doug wanted to

  “Mebbe,” grinned Doug.

  know.

  “I’m glad there are no wimmen here,”

  “None o’ yore damn’ business,” came

  said Tommy.

  the reply, in no gentlemanly manner. “They’s

  “Why?”

  I

  asked.


  ten o’ us out hyar. We done got yore cabin

  “Aw, wimmen can’t fight good,” he

  surrounded on all sides. Are yuh givin’ the kid said.

  up peaceful, or do we take yuh apart?”

  “Yeh. This kinda party is for men

  “What do yuh want with the kid?”

  only,” grinned Doug. “Yuh better hit the hay Doug asked then.

  now. We got to get up early in the mornin’.”

  “Fer the same reason yuh want him,”

  Of course, we knew different, but we

  answered the loud speaker.

  let the kid think there might be some more Nothing was making sense, and Doug

  excitement, he seemed to be so dang fond of was getting tired of the conversation, anyway, death and disaster, so he went right to bed—

  it being kinda hawse and hawse.

  with one eye left open. So he wasn’t at all

  “Try an’ get him,” he said, slamming

  surprised—but we dang well was—when a the door right on a coupla harsh words and coupla hours later about a million bullets squashing ’em.

  began to scramble the cabin till you’da Which was the signal for the dangest

  thought somebody wanted to wake us up or lot of shooting yuh ever met up with, and I something.

  could have got along entirely without it for