A Ranger Rides to Rimrock by John G Read online

  Action Stories, October, 1938

  Daunt, renegade-Ranger, six-gunned his past. But the Ranger code—and Ranger courage—takes plenty killing.

  APTAIN DAUNT raised his crippled

  “Nearly there,” he monotoned. “Nearly

  right hand and swore an oath by its

  where your gold will do you no good, Kramer.

  C missing third finger. His eyes were Nearly where I can make you squirm, you burning, flame-filled pools of jet.

  dog.”

  But his voice was cold—dangerously

  Daunt lowered his hand. He turned

  cold.

  and, with even rhythmed strides, approached

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  his horse, rein-tethered nearby. His three-

  dusky dampness of the place. And men of

  fingered hand brushed caressingly against a

  many nations watched him as he came in.

  holstered gun at his hip as he walked. Eyes

  still afire from the setting sun which topped THE three lean fingers of his right hand

  the Sierra Negras, straight-backed and easy in brushed his bolstered gun as Daunt strode

  his saddle, Captain Perry Daunt, formerly of

  forward. Glowing yellow in the dim light, a

  the Texas Rangers, clinked his silver spurs

  gold piece clinked on the bar. His back was

  against the sides of his buckskin bronc. He

  turned to a score of unfriendly guns. There

  jogged toward the cluster of ’dobe shacks

  were those there who might have known that

  which was Rimrock.

  Captain Perry Daunt had killed many, many

  Rimrock that squalidly, brazenly, men of their kind. There were those who climbed the mountains far south of The River.

  might have been waiting, hate in their hearts, Rimrock where Kramer, the evil one, squat,

  for such a chance as this. Any man there

  sleepy-eyed, as indolently indifferent as the might suddenly take it into his head to slap

  town to which he gave name, sat, smirked and

  lead into the steel-muscled body of the Ranger gurgled delightedly as the gold from lost souls outcast.

  rolled in an unceasing stream into his bloody But Daunt’s back was turned,

  hands.

  indifferently, to them all. His thin lips grimly And toward Rimrock, hate in his heart,

  ironic, he looked at the fat, puffed face of Jose rode Captain Perry Daunt. Daunt the three-Aguilar.

  fingered, the gun-slick of the law. Daunt who

  “Whiskey,” he ordered. “Whiskey—

  used to be known as Daunt the courageous.

  and Kramer!”

  But who was now called a traitor. Daunt, who

  Like the indrawing breath of a sucking

  used to rate the snappy salutes of lean, tanned, bellows they gasped, those men behind Daunt.

  slim-fingered right hands, but who now rated

  Whiskey—and Kramer! That was something!

  a muttered curse, a blush of shame, or averted It caused a slit-eyed, two-gunned gent

  eyes.

  to step easily away from the group behind

  Into the street end of the sun-blasted

  Captain Daunt. It caused the few who still

  village, head up, back straight, rode Daunt,

  were at the bar to edge carefully away. His

  whom men called traitor. Eyes straight ahead, spurs clinking softly in the tortured silence of cold resolution in the set lines of his face, he the room, the man who had separated himself

  rode past pock-marked, grinning mestizos, from the group strode toward Daunt. He

  past double-gunned, hard-eyed killers, past stopped on wide-spread feet. Gently, with his tired-faced, alabaster skinned, shoulder-left hand, he tapped the wide, dust-grimed

  slumped women. Women with too-red lips

  shoulder of Captain Daunt. His eyes and his

  and with circles under their eyes. On, past

  voice were cold-mocking.

  squatty, squalid ’dobes, the target of eyes that

  “And who,” he asked, as Daunt turned

  hated, eyes that wondered, and eyes that were about, “are you—stranger?”

  masked with indifference, rode Daunt. He

  Daunt’s answer came crisply from

  never once glanced aside.

  straight, unsmiling lips.

  He eased from his saddle seat. Careless

  “You call me right,” he said. “I’m

  confidence in his carriage, he strode into the just—a stranger.”

  yawning doorway of the cantina of Jose

  “Stranger!” It was filled with venom,

  Aguilar—a doorway yawning seductively. that voice from the group at the rear.

  From the clean sunshine he stepped into the

  “Stranger, hell! That’s Daunt. Captain Daunt.

  A Ranger Rides to Rimrock

  3

  That’s th’ John Law hairpin—a gun-slick on

  “Listen, Kid,” he said tightly, “this is

  wheels—th’ coyote gent what sold his Ranger

  so old it’s got whiskers on it. But if you laugh gang for some o’ Kramer’s coin.”

  at me, I’ll—I’ll—”

  The fellow laughed raucously. Daunt’s

  “I won’t,” said the Kid, “—not out

  jaw muscles tightened. His face whitened loud.”

  beneath its heavy coating of tan. The speaker Tracy waved toward a chair and

  stepped from the group, grinned mockingly at

  cocked his feet on the desk top. The Brazos

  Daunt.

  Kid sat down, rolling himself a quirley.

  “Yeah!” he growled. “Daunt, he sold

  Lieutenant Tracy blew smoke at the ceiling.

  out. And he did more than that. He let Kramer There was pathos in his voice. “It was

  take ...”

  hell, Kid. You know it, even if it was before

  “Ah—” A sigh from Daunt.

  your time.” Tracy shook his head slowly, and

  A curse from the other.

  sighed. “Captain Perry Daunt,” he said, “was

  Then there was lightning in Daunt’s

  the finest, the bravest, and the best Texas

  hand. And the hell in his eyes flamed with the Ranger who ever slapped his seat in saddle

  flash of his own long-barreled gun. Death

  leather.”

  drilled into the chests of two—the two who

  The Kid’s cool, blue eyes peered

  had talked about something else besides a sell-covertly at Tracy. But he said nothing.

  out.

  The lieutenant breathed hard.

  Daunt swayed forward, iron steady on

  “Crooked?” he asked softly. “Daunt

  the group before him.

  crooked? Took money to let Kramer get

  “Whiskey and Kramer,” he whispered.

  away? No, Kid, he didn’t do it!”

  “That’s all. Just whiskey and Kramer.”

  Tracy still stared at the wall. The

  Slowly, cautiously, he squatted Brazos Kid licked the loose edge of his forward. Quickly, with a move of his wrist, he quirley. “I ain’t laughin’,” he reminded.

  slid his gun out on the floor, then empty-

  The lieutenant nodded. “All right,” he

  handed, he stood before them, this jasper who said softly, and settled himself in his chair.

  had just killed two of th
eir kind.

  “Eighteen years ago a gent named Kramer was

  He was cold meat for the gun slicks of

  running dope—running everything he could

  Rimrock. And they stood there, staring. They

  run, for that matter. Trafficked in girls. Killed, licked their lips hungrily. But they didn’t murdered, rustled. Every thing that was shoot!

  damnable, Kramer did. And we caught him—

  Daunt turned. Again his back was caught him cold—Daunt and me. In the scrap toward them, his face to the bar. “Whiskey,”

  Kramer shot a finger off Daunt’s right hand.

  he said to Jose. “Whiskey, spik! And send for But we had Kramer in irons. We were going

  Kramer!”

  to move him next day. But next morning—he

  Hand steady, Daunt raised a glass to

  was gone.”

  his lips. But, in spite of his pose of

  Tracy stopped suddenly. He looked

  indifference, cold fear tugged at his vitals. A sharply at the lean face of the Brazos Kid. But fear that he would never live to see Kramer...!

  the Kid’s eyes and face were expressionless.

  Again Tracy sighed. “That’s why

  II

  you’ll do,” he muttered, as if to himself.

  “Poker face—poker eyes— Just a blank.” He

  RANGER Lieutenant Harry Tracy gazed puffed at his dead cigarette and threw it from truculently at the Brazos Kid.

  him.

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  4

  “Daunt admitted it,” continued Tracy

  Somebody who’s just interested in Texas, in

  slowly. “Said he took money to let Kramer

  clean things.”

  make a getaway. Wrote it in a note he left

  Tracy stopped. He didn’t look around.

  behind him. There was merry hell about it. A

  The Brazos Kid studied the

  stink you could smell clear to Austin. Rumors lieutenant’s profile. Faint, almost

  about this and that. Wild tales that no sensible imperceptible, there was a whimsical smile on man would believe. And to top it all off, there the Kid’s thin lips.

  were stories about Daunt selling his wife and

  “Yeah,” he said absently, “I reckon

  daughter to Kramer.

  mebby they could.”

  “But this much I do know. Daunt’s

  The Kid stood up. He hitched his gun

  wife and little girl left here when Kramer did.

  belts about his lithe hips. He reached under his And Daunt’s wife was seen with Kramer in

  vest and unpinned a badge. He extended it to

  Mexico, I can’t explain that, but it’s true.

  Tracy. “Better keep this for me,” he said.

  “But, Kid, I know Daunt. I fought “Mebby, when I’m on furlough, I might get beside him in the days when saddle leather

  drunk, and somebody’d steal it.”

  was the only way we had of going places. And

  Tracy grinned and accepted the badge.

  a gent that earns his eighty bucks a month the He opened a drawer of his desk and put the

  way Daunt and I did in those days don’t turn

  badge inside. His face sobered again as he did coyote for a few lousy dollars. When a man’s

  it. He studied the Kid and sighed.

  a Texas Ranger, Kid, he’ll be a Ranger till he

  “Well,” said the Kid tonelessly, “I’ll

  dies.”

  be seein’ yuh.”

  The Brazos Kid puffed a little faster on

  He moved toward the door. Tracy’s

  his cigarette. But his eyes were the same.

  eyes followed him.

  “Yeah,” he said, “I reckon that’s right.”

  FOR many minutes Daunt stood alone at the

  TRACY nodded. “Dam’ right,” he said. deserted bar in the cantina of Jose Aguilar.

  “Daunt lied. I don’t know why, but he did. He The raspy, nervous shuffle of a booted foot,

  didn’t take money from Kramer. He hated

  the high-pitched note of a woman’s hysterical Kramer’s guts. He hated everything that laugh, the deep mutter of a masculine Kramer stood for. Of course, eventually it

  undertone—only these sounds broke the

  quieted down. Kramer must have made a lot

  silence. Daunt stood laxly between the

  of money and quit. He dropped out of the

  prostrate forms of the two men he had killed, picture for about eighteen years. And so did

  toyed absently with his glass, and waited.

  Daunt.

  Waited for Kramer....

  “But now it’s started again. From over

  And Daunt knew when he came. He

  yonder—” Tracy jerked his thumb in the knew it before he heard the soft “ah-h-h” of direction of Mexico, “—we’re getting the old

  many indrawn breaths, the tinkle of

  rumors again. Kramer’s back. The dope is

  approaching spurs, and the ponderous,

  getting through. Chinks, everything, coming

  confident tread behind him. With studied-

  across. And Daunt, say the rumors, he’s back

  slowness he turned, his eyes masked. He

  too—over there some place. Maybe there’s

  stared at Kramer.

  nothing to it. But I’ve been wondering, Kid, if Kramer twisted his ugly face into a

  a gent with a good poker face and a slick gun sardonic grin, squinted at the ex-lawman over hand might not be able to do some good—

  a cocked gun.

  over there. Somebody who’s not a Ranger.

  “You’re late, Daunt. I been expectin’

  A Ranger Rides to Rimrock

  5

  you for eighteen years. ’S’matter—couldn’t

  toward Kramer. “Hell, no,” he said feelingly.

  you find me?”

  “I said a good job. I mean it. Next to you, I’m Daunt shrugged, and waved his left

  the jefe grande, or it’s no bet. Either I’m th’

  hand toward the gun lying in the center of the big bull of th’ woods, or I take a bullet in th’

  floor. “Cut th’ heroics,” he answered coldly.

  guts. That’s flat, Kramer.”

  “There’s my gun. I killed two of your men

  Puzzled, eyes uncertain, Kramer took

  with it.” He spread his arms expressively. “I the gun. He looked down at it. Then facing

  don’t give a damn,

  toward Daunt again, his eyes glowed.

  Kramer—now. Shoot—go to hell—or give me

  “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “I

  a good job. I don’t care which— not a bit.”

  believe you mean it.” But his voice was

  His voice was flat, void of expression.

  kindled with disbelief.

  Kramer peered shrewdly into Daunt’s

  Daunt didn’t speak. He stared straight

  eyes. He chuckled throatily. It was a nasty, a at the big man, coldly, icily.

  triumphant chuckle. “I begin to sabe,” he Kramer dropped his eyes again.

  grinned. “You heard that she was gone, eh?

  Slowly, he opened the loading gate of the gun You heard that th’ kid was gone, too.” He

  Daunt had returned to him. One click at a

  grunted contemptuously. “You fool. You time, while he sardonically watched for a tell-sentimental dam’ fool....”

  tale expression on Daunt’s face, Kramer

  Kramer stopped talking, seemingly punched the ejection rod through empty perplexed, as Daunt turned abruptly to the bar.

  chambers. He stepped closer to the ex-Ranger.

  “Whiskey,” Daunt said hoarsely to the

  “It wasn’t loaded,” he said. “But I

 
; Mexican barkeep.

  expected you to try.” He shook his massive

  Kramer grinned at Daunt’s back. He

  head. “I don’t sabe it, Daunt. I swear I don’t.”

  raised his cocked gun a little higher, stepped There was puzzlement in his voice.

  close. Like the hombre who now lay dead on Daunt shrugged, turned to the bar

  the floor, he tapped Daunt on the shoulder.

  again. He poured himself still another drink. “I

  “Here,” he said, extending the gun as

  won’t explain it to you,” he said, glass in

  Daunt turned, “here’s a gun. You’ve got a

  hand. “Take it or leave it. I don’t care about job.”

  that, either.”

  Carelessly Kramer turned away from

  Kramer backed away. Suddenly his

  the broken lawman. Gun in hand, Daunt face flamed. His loaded gun swept on. “I’ve studied Kramer’s back. His eyes flashed then

  got it,” he shouted. “I’ve got it now. You’ve filmed.-

  got a conscience. You wouldn’t shoot me till I

  “What—what kind of a job?”

  made a play. You’ve got a hide-out gun and

  “Particular, eh?” sneered Kramer. you want me to force th’ issue. So your damn’

  “Any kind of a job—anything I say! That’s

  puritanical soul could rest in peace if you

  what kind of a job, Captain Daunt!”

  killed me.” Kramer’s big face was livid. “All Daunt was cold, while Kramer’s breath

  right, Daunt,” he cried, “make your play. I’m came fast with passion. Slowly he shook his