Free Sudden--Strikes Back (A Sudden Western #1) by Frederick H. Christian Page A

and some
wet-behind-the-ears saddle tramp.’
    ‘ He got the drop on them,’ mumbled Linkham by way of
explanation. ·
    ‘ Bungling fools,’ raged the banker. ‘I’m surrounded by idiots.
As for Pardoe—’
    ‘ He’s itchin’ for another chance at that Green fella,’ offered
Linkham.
    ‘ Is—he—indeed?’ ground out de Witt. ‘Can you give me one good
reason why I shouldn’t get rid of Pardoe? I suppose it’s lucky that
you weren’t along. If you had been there, and been recognized , I
would have no further use for you? The thinly-veiled threat sank
in, and Linkham squirmed.
    ‘ Hell, it was just pore luck,’ he expostulated. ‘I’ll see that
it don’t happen again. Yu just tell me what yu want done. I’ll tend
to it, personal.’
    De Witt
nodded, as if slightly mollified.
    ‘ Thanks to your bungling, I have had to arrange things
differently. You had no trouble dodging the posse?’
    ‘ Hell, no,’ strutted Linkham. ‘We had a clear ride to the
canyon.’
    ‘ And the money?’
    ‘ Safe—where you said.’
    ‘ Good. The robbery has made it unnecessary for Tate to be
visited again by the Shadows. We shall break him financially. It
will be just as effective as a bullet. But this stranger who helped
Tate is another matter. What do you know about him?’
    ‘ Name’s Green. Wears two guns an’ knows how to use ’em, from
what the boys said.’
    ‘ I want him out of the way,’ de Witt said coldly. ‘There must
be no unknown factors in this operation, Linkham. It is a very
delicate and complicated matter. I cannot and will not tolerate
another bungling such as happened at Tate’s the other night. Do you
understand me?’
    ‘ Don’t you worry none,’ Linkham assured him. ‘I’ll take care of
it.’
    ‘ It might be wiser not to come here for a while
...afterwards,’ said de Witt with an evil smile. He reached into a
drawer and brought out a thick roll of bills. Peeling off a number
he threw them across the desk.
    ‘ Take this for expenses. Pay your men before you do anything
else. Money makes silence.’
    Linkham
nodded, picked up the money and his hat, and de Witt rose and
accompanied him to the door. As the big man surveyed the street, de
Witt had a final remark to make.
    ‘ Don’t bungle this, Linkham .... or I shall act. Do I make
myself clear?’
    Whatever
dark threat was concealed in those words had its effect upon
Linkham, who paled visibly and nodded without speaking. He slipped
out of the bank door, mingling with the throng on the sidewalk, and
strode quickly away in the direction of Diego’s. Only when he was
inside the saloon did he turn and shake his fist towards the bank.
A string of foul oaths escaped his lips, and under his breath he
muttered, ‘Yu think yu own me body an’ soul, yu vulture, but it’s a
two—way game. One day I’m goin’ to stand an’ spit on yore
bloodsuckin’ corpse!’ His rage partially vented, Linkham jostled
his way through the saloon and continued his brooding at a table in
the rear of the building, his only company a bottle of whiskey
whose level dropped rapidly in the next hour.
    Shortly
after Linkham’s departure, the Slash 8 men were ushered into the
banker’s office with every expression of good-will. When the two
visitors were seated, de Witt took his place behind the big desk,
made a steeple of his fingers, and raised his eyebrows. Tate did
not beat about the bush; old-timer that he was, he came directly to
the point.
    ‘ De Witt, yo’re holdin’ a mortgage on the Slash 8. How do I
stand?’ The banker shifted uncomfortably under the keen gaze of the
old rancher, but lifting his chin slightly, as if in defiance,
said, ‘I regret to say, Mr. Tate, that you don’t stand too
well.
    I’m
going to have to ask you to pay off your debt, or sell your
mortgage?
    Tate
nodded. ‘I figgered that. How long are yu givin’ me?’
    De Witt
was a wonderful actor, and his feelings were rigidly under control,
but nevertheless the slightest