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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:53 -0700 |
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diff --git a/29602-h/29602-h.htm b/29602-h/29602-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..708357c --- /dev/null +++ b/29602-h/29602-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9233 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Coyote, by James Roberts.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + a {text-decoration: none;} + p.cg {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-align: left !important; width: 101%;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} + hr.p10 {width: 10%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both; margin: 1em auto;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + span.rindent2 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 0.8em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + span.rindent4 {margin-left: 0; padding-left:0; width: 1.6em; padding-right: 0; margin-right: 0; display: block; float: right;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps} + hr.minor {width: 40%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both; margin: 1em auto;} + h3 {font-size:1.0em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coyote, by James Roberts + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Coyote + A Western Story + +Author: James Roberts + +Release Date: August 3, 2009 [EBook #29602] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COYOTE *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE COYOTE</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table style="margin: auto; border: double; border-collapse:collapse; width:320px;" summary=""> +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:10px;font-size:2.4em;margin-bottom:20px;'>THE COYOTE</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:30px;margin-top:15px;'>A Western Story</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;'>By JAMES ROBERTS</p> +<div style='margin:60px auto; text-align:center;'><img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' /></div> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>CHELSEA HOUSE</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:10px;font-size:smaller;'>79 SEVENTH AVENUE NEW YORK CITY</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'>The Coyote</p> +<hr class='minor' /> +<p class='center'>Copyright, 1925, by CHELSEA HOUSE</p> +<hr class='minor' /> +<p class='center'>(Printed in the United States of America)<br /> +</p> +<p class='center'>All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign<br /> +languages, including the Scandinavian.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Rewards Offered</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_REWARDS_OFFERED'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Boy and a Girl</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_A_BOY_AND_A_GIRL'>17</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Law</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_THE_LAW'>24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>“I Knew He Lied!”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_I_KNEW_HE_LIED'>32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Capture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_A_CAPTURE'>38</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Real Low-Down</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_REAL_LOWDOWN'>45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Where to Hide</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_WHERE_TO_HIDE'>52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Two Queer Moves</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_TWO_QUEER_MOVES'>57</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Leave It to Me</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_LEAVE_IT_TO_ME'>65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Caught in the Cellar</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_CAUGHT_IN_THE_CELLAR'>71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Freedom Behind Bars</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_FREEDOM_BEHIND_BARS'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Against His Ethics</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_AGAINST_HIS_ETHICS'>87</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Man and His Horse</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_A_MAN_AND_HIS_HORSE'>93</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Witness</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_THE_WITNESS'>98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Welcome</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_THE_WELCOME'>106</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Dixie’s Boss</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_DIXIES_BOSS'>114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Commission</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_A_COMMISSION'>121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>In the Night</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_IN_THE_NIGHT'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Quick Turns</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_QUICK_TURNS'>136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Appeal to the Law</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_APPEAL_TO_THE_LAW'>145</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Capture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_A_CAPTURE'>151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Second Capture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_A_SECOND_CAPTURE'>160</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Quick Facts</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_QUICK_FACTS'>165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Show-down</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_THE_SHOWDOWN'>170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Filed!</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXV_FILED'>175</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Prodigal</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI_THE_PRODIGAL'>179</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Desert Code</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_DESERT_CODE'>185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Night Summons</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII_A_NIGHT_SUMMONS'>194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Gunmen</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX_GUNMEN'>201</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sheriff’s Plight</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXX_THE_SHERIFFS_PLIGHT'>207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A New Count</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXI_A_NEW_COUNT'>215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Compass Fails</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXII_THE_COMPASS_FAILS'>220</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Fast Work</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIII_FAST_WORK'>224</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Compass Wavers</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXIV_THE_COMPASS_WAVERS'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Guns in the Night</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXV_GUNS_IN_THE_NIGHT'>235</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Loot</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVI_THE_LOOT'>242</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Test of a Man</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVII_THE_TEST_OF_A_MAN'>245</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXXVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Ten Miles’ Start</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXXVIII_TEN_MILES_START'>250</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE COYOTE</p> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_REWARDS_OFFERED' id='CHAPTER_I_REWARDS_OFFERED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>REWARDS OFFERED</h3> +</div> +<p>The sign on the tree attracted the man’s attention +while he was still far down the slope. He could +see the tall pine on the crest of the ridge above +a veritable landmark in that country of stunted timber, +and the square of paper, tacked to its trunk +under the lowest branches, gleamed white against +the background of vivid green.</p> +<p>The air was clear, and every detail of the landscape––the +red rocks, the saffron-colored slopes, the +green pines and firs and buck brush, the white cliffs––everything +within sight for miles stood out, clean-cut +in the brilliant sunshine which flooded the empty +land under a cloudless sky.</p> +<p>When the man, mounted on a lean, dun-colored +horse, first looked up at a turn of the narrow trail +and saw the sign, he grunted. Then he frowned +and looked back along the way he had come with +a glowing light of reflection in his gray eyes. He +was a tall man, slim and muscular, clean-shaven, his +face and hands bronzed by sun and wind, and his +face open and good-natured. A shock of blond +hair showed where his gray, wide-brimmed, high-crowned +hat was pushed back from his high forehead.</p> +<p>His dress, though typical of the country which +he traversed, was distinctive, or it might have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +a certain natural grace that made it seem so. He +wore a light-gray, soft shirt made of French flannel, +a dark-blue silk scarf, leather chaps over olive-drab +khaki trousers, black, hand-sewed riding boots which +displayed their polish despite a coating of fine dust, +silver spurs, and, strapped to his right thigh, was +a worn leather holster, natural color, from which +protruded the black butt of a six-gun.</p> +<p>On the back of his saddle was tied a black +slicker, the raincoat of the open country, which +bulged with a medium-sized pack done up within it.</p> +<p>One would have taken him to be thirty, perhaps +a year or two more when his face was serious; +but when he smiled, that is, when he smiled naturally, +he looked little more in years than a youth who has +just attained his majority.</p> +<p>When he smiled the other smile––the smile he +now expressed as he looked up the slope toward +the tall pine with the white square of paper on its +trunk––one would have forgotten the smile because +of the sinister, steel-blue look in his eyes, and the +direct, piercing quality of his gaze.</p> +<p>He walked his horse up the winding trail. His +right foot was clear of the stirrup, and he swung +it idly. His left hand, in which he held the reins, +rested lightly on the horn of his saddle, and his +right gripped the cantle at his back. He hummed +a ditty of the desert, but his gaze, keen and alert, +continually sought the open stretches of trail above +him, and at regular intervals flashed back along +the way he had come.</p> +<p>In time he reached the top of the ridge and +pulled up his horse near the tree bearing the poster. +He dismounted and walked slowly up a little grade +to where he could the better read the legend on the +paper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></div> +<p>It was printed in large letters, but recent rain +had somewhat faded it.</p> +<p class='center'>FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS REWARD<br /> +This will be paid for<br /> +THE COYOTE<br /> +dead or alive, by San Jacinto County.<br /> +JUDSON BROWN, J. P.,<br /> +Dry Lake.</p> +<p>This man is tall and light in complexion, +gray or blue eyes, good teeth, his horse said +branded +CC<span style='font-size:smaller'>2</span> +keeps himself neat, dangerous +with gun, squints when mad. Bring him in +and get the money.</p> +<p>The man swore softly as he read the last sentence. +“Bring him in an’ get the money,” he said snortingly. +“You’d think they was talkin’ about a locoed +steer that just had to be roped an’ drug, or shot +an’ hauled. Bring him in an’ get the money!”</p> +<p>There was genuine indignation in his tone as +he repeated the offensive sentence.</p> +<p>“Well, it can’t be me,” he said facetiously, aloud. +“My name’s Rathburn––a right good name.” His +eyes clouded. “A right good name till they began +to tamper with it,” he muttered with a frown as +he lit a cigarette he had built while perusing the +placard.</p> +<p>He took the stub of a lead pencil from the pocket +of his shirt. For some moments he reflected, staring +at the sign on the tree trunk. Then he laboriously +printed on its lower edge:</p> +<p>Five thousand dollars more from the State +of Arizona if you can get it.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>Rathburn surveyed his work with a grin, replacing +the pencil in his shirt pocket. Then he stepped +back and drew his gun. He seemed on the point +of sending a half dozen bullets through the paper +when he suddenly shook his head, glanced hurriedly +about him, and shoved the weapon back into its +sheath.</p> +<p>He walked quickly to his horse, swung into the +saddle, and started down the trail on the western +side of the ridge.</p> +<p>Below him he saw a far-flung vista of rounded, +yellow hills, spotted with the green of small pines +and firs. The ground was hard, dry, and gravelly. +There were boulders a-plenty, and long, sharp-edged +outcroppings of hard rock of a reddish hue. There +was no sign of habitation to be glimpsed from the +trail leading down from the high ridge which he +had crossed. He continually looked about him with +the interested air of a man who is venturing into a +new locality with which he is not familiar.</p> +<p>“Dry Lake!” he exclaimed, while his horse pricked +up its ears at the familiar voice. “Good name for +it, if it’s anywhere in <i>this</i> country. Hoss, I don’t +know when we’re goin’ to drink again. I didn’t +figure on hittin’ a desert up here.”</p> +<p>He rode on at a brisk jog, down and down the +winding trail. Then it led across a number of the +round, low hills, ever westward.</p> +<p>As the afternoon wore on, more green brightened +the landscape and patches of grass appeared. Then +they came upon a small stream trickling down from +the higher slopes to northward where horse and +rider drank their fill and rested in a quiet, secluded +meadow off the trail.</p> +<p>The man’s face was a study as he lay back upon +the grass in the cool shade of a clump of pines. +Whimsical and wistful, it was occasionally lit by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +a peculiar smile which carried a hint of sadness. +His eyes half closed, dreamily. The smoke from +his cigarette curled upward in a thin spiral in the +still air of the altitudes. His horse, with reins +dangling and saddle cinch loosened, cropped the +grass which carpeted the meadow.</p> +<p>Finally the man arose, tightened the cinch in an +absent manner, mounted, and rode back to the trail +to continue on his way. At the top of the next +ridge he halted, looking at a little ranch which +lay in a wide valley a mile or two north of the +thread of trail which he could see winding westward. +The place looked poor, poverty-stricken, despite +the small field of living green south of the +house and the few head of cattle grazing along +the banks of a little stream which wound through +the valley.</p> +<p>For some time the rider sat his horse motionless, +frowning in indecision. Then he touched the dun +lightly with his spurs, left the trail, and struck off +to the north, following the ridge. He kept his +gaze focused on the little ranch. The only sign +of life which he saw was a heavily-burdened clothesline +flapping in the idle breeze which at this point +was wafted down from the mountains.</p> +<p>When he was almost directly above the small +house he turned his mount down the slope and +gaining the floor of the valley, rode at a gallop +for the house. His right hand now rested on his +thigh near the holstered gun.</p> +<p>As he brought his horse to a stop near the front +of the house a girl appeared in the doorway. He +looked at her in pleased surprise. Then his hat +swept low in a gesture of courtesy.</p> +<p>“Ma’am, I’ve found this to be a country of scattered +habitations,” he said in a musical bass. “So +when I glimpsed your abode from yonder hills I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +said to myself, ‘Rathburn, you’re most powerful +hungry; maybe you better pay a call.’”</p> +<p>His eyes were glowing with an amused light, +and a pleasant smile played upon his lips.</p> +<p>The girl, who had listened curiously, now laughed +in welcome. “There aren’t many places between +here and Dry Lake,” she said; “and I guess it +would be a pretty hot ride to-day. You can water +your horse––and feed him at the barn, if you wish––and +I’ll get you something to eat, if you’re not +particular.” Her eyes danced merrily.</p> +<p>“Ma’am!” he exclaimed, with mock severity, “I +quit bein’ particular when I was––when I was as +young as that youngster.”</p> +<p>A boy of ten or twelve had appeared beside the +girl.</p> +<p>“Young man, what’re those dirt-looking spots on +your face?” asked the stranger, frowning with his +eyes but smiling with his lips.</p> +<p>“They <i>ain’t</i> dirt spots!” returned the boy with +spirit, advancing a step.</p> +<p>“No?” said the man, feigning intense astonishment. +“What <i>are</i> they?”</p> +<p>“They’re freckles,” answered the boy stoutly.</p> +<p>“Oh––oh, <i>that’s</i> what they are,” said the stranger +with a delighted laugh. “Won’t they wash off?”</p> +<p>“Naw. You can’t fool me. You knew what they +were!”</p> +<p>“Well, now, maybe so,” observed the man as the +girl laughingly turned inside.</p> +<p>“Grub’ll be ready by time you are,” she called +back to him.</p> +<p>“I’ll show you where to put your horse,” said the +boy as the man looked searchingly up and down the +valley.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_A_BOY_AND_A_GIRL' id='CHAPTER_II_A_BOY_AND_A_GIRL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>A BOY AND A GIRL</h3> +</div> +<p>When Rathburn had put up his horse, after +giving him a light feed of grain in the barn, +he followed the boy to the rear of the house where +he found water, soap, and a towel on a bench, above +which hung a small mirror.</p> +<p>The boy left him there, and he soon washed and +combed his hair. The girl opened the rear door +for him and he walked through the little kitchen +into a small front room where a table was set for +him.</p> +<p>“Sure, ma’am, I didn’t figure on causing you so +much trouble,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t +expect anything but a snack, an’ here you’ve gone +an’ fixed a regular dinner––this time of day, too.”</p> +<p>“My experience with men in this country has +taught me that when they’re hungry, they’re hungry,” +replied the girl. “And it wasn’t much trouble. +Those beans were in the oven and already warm. I +just had to make the coffee. I was expecting my +brother.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t see any men around the place,” he said, +beginning to eat. “If I had I’d have made myself +known to them before coming to the house. Where +is he––out with the cattle?”</p> +<p>He saw her gaze was troubled. “I don’t know +just where he is––to-day,” she confessed. “He goes +away and sometimes doesn’t come back for a day +or two.” She stood in the doorway.</p> +<p>Rathburn noted her trim, slim figure and her +wealth of chestnut hair. She was pretty and capable. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +He surmised that her parents were dead, although +he could not ascribe the reason for this deduction. +Evidently the boy was a younger brother. He wondered +if the older brother would return before he +finished eating.</p> +<p>“How far is it to Dry Lake?” he asked casually.</p> +<p>“Oh––why, didn’t you come from there?” She +seemed surprised.</p> +<p>“No. I came from over to eastward.”</p> +<p>“But it’s miles and miles to any place east of +here, isn’t it?” she asked, puzzled. “You must have +had a long ride.”</p> +<p>A ghost of a frown played on his brows. Then +he laughed. “Yes, miss, I’ve been ridin’ some,” he +confessed. “I didn’t know how far it was to anywhere +or I mightn’t have come in this direction.”</p> +<p>She looked at him wonderingly, and again he +thought he saw a troubled look in her eyes.</p> +<p>“You’re going to Dry Lake?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said shortly, and a grim note crept +into his voice. “It’s west of here, ain’t it?”</p> +<p>“About fifteen or eighteen miles,” she answered. +“The trail leads there from the lower end of this +valley––the same trail you came on, I guess. Are +you a cow-puncher?”</p> +<p>“Don’t I look like one, miss?”</p> +<p>“Yes, you do and––you don’t.” She was confused +by the quality of his smile. But his eyes +seemed to glow at her kindly, with a cheerful, +amused light––altogether honest and friendly. She +lowered her gaze and flushed despite herself.</p> +<p>“My vocation, miss––you’re too young an’ pretty +to be called ma’am, if you’ll excuse me for saying +so––is a peculiar one. I’ve punched cows, yes; I’ve +prospected an’ worked a bit in the mines. I’ve +scared the wolf from the ‘Welcome’ mat by standing +off the boys at green-topped tables, an’ once I––I––worked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +on a sort of farm.” He appeared apologetic +as he confessed this last. “I guess I wasn’t cut +out for a farm hand, miss.”</p> +<p>She laughed at this. “Are you going to work +in Dry Lake?” she asked, sobering.</p> +<p>“Well, now, that is a question,” he returned, +draining his cup of the last of the coffee.</p> +<p>“I’ll get you some more,” she said quickly, taking +his cup. “Dry Lake isn’t a very big place, you +know.”</p> +<p>“Just how big <i>is</i> Dry Lake?” he asked when she +returned from the kitchen with more coffee for him.</p> +<p>“Only a hundred or two. But the men from +miles and miles go there because––because there are +places there where they can stand the wolf off at +the green-topped tables and––drink.” The troubled +look was in her eyes again. “Sometimes the wolf +catches up with them before they get home,” she +added, smiling faintly.</p> +<p>“It’s not a safe system,” he said thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“But you might get work in Dry Lake,” she +said hopefully. “You––you look capable. The cattlemen +from back in the hills go there and they’re +nearly always looking for men, I’ve heard. You +might meet some of them and get a job.”</p> +<p>He beamed upon her. “I’ve always heard that +a woman gave a man encouragement an’ ambition, +if she was a good one,” he mused. “You’ve almost +got me thinking I’d better go straight to work.”</p> +<p>“Why––didn’t––wasn’t that your intention?” she +asked wonderingly.</p> +<p>His face clouded. “It ain’t always so easy for +me to do what I want to do, miss,” he said. “I––you +see–––” He broke off his speech with a frown. +“This is a queer country, miss,” he said earnestly.</p> +<p>“Oh, I know,” she said eagerly. “I’ll bet you’re +an––an officer!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></div> +<p>Then he laughed. It was the spontaneous laugh +of youth, vibrant, compelling, mirth-inspiring.</p> +<p>“Say, miss, if there’s one thing I ain’t tackled yet, +it’s being an officer,” he chuckled as he finished his +repast.</p> +<p>She smiled vaguely, studying him under her long, +dark lashes. The boy came into the room, holding +his hands behind him, and stood with his sturdy +legs braced apart, staring at Rathburn.</p> +<p>“There he is now!” Rathburn exclaimed. “Did +you try to wash the freckles off?” he queried with +a wink.</p> +<p>“I know who <i>you</i> are!” said the boy. There was +admiration and awe in his wide eyes.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at him closely, his brows wrinkling.</p> +<p>“Yes, I do,” said the boy, nodding. “Did he +tell you who he is, sis?” he asked, looking at the +girl.</p> +<p>“Now, Frankie, we don’t care who the man is,” +she reproved. “He was hungry and he’s welcome. +What’s the matter with you?”</p> +<p>“I guess you’d be surprised if you knew as much +as I do,” the boy boasted. “I guess you’d be surprised +all right. I do.”</p> +<p>“I’ve been surprised more than once at things +you knew,” the girl said with a laugh.</p> +<p>“Yes, but I guess you’d be surprised all right +if you knew who <i>he</i> is,” cried the boy, pointing at +Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Come, now, young fellow, don’t be getting all +het up here,” said Rathburn slowly, drawing tobacco +and papers from his shirt pocket. “What do you +find to do with yourself around here?”</p> +<p>But the youngster was not to be diverted from +his topic. “I was lookin’ at your horse,” he said, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +his eyes shining. “That’s how I know for sure +an’ certain who you are.”</p> +<p>Rathburn gazed at the boy sternly as he touched +a match to his brown-paper cigarette. “My horse +is all right, ain’t he?”</p> +<p>“Sure he is,” said the boy eagerly. “I bet he +can go some, too. He’d have to go for you to +have him, wouldn’t he? You’re The Coyote!”</p> +<p>Rathburn continued to smile with an amused tolerance. +But the girl gave a start; her hands flew +to her breast, and she stared at the man with wide-open +eyes.</p> +<p>“Frankie! What are you saying?” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>The boy triumphantly brought his hands from behind +his back. He held out a poster.</p> +<p>“His horse has got CC2 for a brand, just like it +says in this bill Ed brought from town!” he cried. +“He’s The Coyote, all right. But I won’t tell,” he +added quickly, looking at Rathburn.</p> +<p>The man avoided the girl’s eyes. The boy laid +the poster on the table where she could read it again, +word for word.</p> +<p>“Tall––light in complexion––gray or blue eyes––good +teeth––horse branded CC2––dangerous–––”</p> +<p>And this man was tall and blond, with gray eyes. +Five hundred dollars reward!</p> +<p>“I won’t tell anybody you’ve been here,” the boy +continued. “We won’t tell, will we, sis?” He +looked at the girl imploringly.</p> +<p>“My brother Ed says what you want you take,” +said the boy, gazing at the man in admiration. “An’ +he says you don’t rob anybody that can’t afford it! +He says the banks are insured an’ you’ve been a +friend to more’n one that’s just gettin’ a start in +the cattle. I won’t tell anybody you’ve been here, +an’ I won’t let sis tell anybody, either!”</p> +<p>Rathburn was smiling wistfully. “Always tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +the truth, sonny,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t +forget that. I wouldn’t want you to lie for me. +Any man that would want you to lie for him +wouldn’t be a man a-tall, son. See?”</p> +<p>“But old Brown, the judge, or the sheriff might +come along an’ want to know if you’d been here!” +said the boy in breathless excitement.</p> +<p>“Then tell ’em the truth,” said Rathburn smilingly. +“Tell ’em a man with a horse branded CC2 was here +an’ kidded you about your freckles, had something +to eat, an’ rode away. Don’t lie, sonny, no matter +what happens.”</p> +<p>The girl took a step toward the table. “You––<i>are</i>––The +Coyote?” she asked in a whisper.</p> +<p>“My name is Rathburn, miss,” he replied cheerfully. +“In some ways I’m a lot like the man described +in that reward notice. An’ I’m riding a +dun-colored horse branded CC2. I don’t like that +monicker, Coyote, or I might ’fess up to it.”</p> +<p>“Then––if you’re him––you’re an outlaw!” she +stammered.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s dreamy look shifted to the boy who +was staring at him.</p> +<p>“You’ll grow up to be quite a man, son,” he said +in a fatherly tone. “Those freckles mean a tough +skin. A weak sort of skin tans quick an’ the +toughest just sunburns. You’re halfway between. +That’s all right for freckles; but it don’t go in life. +It’s best to be on one side or the other, an’ the +right side’s the best for most folks.”</p> +<p>He rose and went for his hat. Then he extracted +a roll of bills from a hip pocket and laid a five-dollar +note on the table.</p> +<p>“That meal was worth it,” he said to the girl +with a smile.</p> +<p>She shook her head. “I––I couldn’t take it,” she +said.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></div> +<p>“That’s clean money, miss. I earned it circumventin’ +three of the most ornery card sharps in +Arizona.”</p> +<p>She continued to shake her head. “You do not +understand,” she murmured. “It––it wouldn’t make +any difference. We couldn’t take money from a +stranger who came to us––hungry. It wouldn’t +make any difference who you were.”</p> +<p>“Aw, we need it, sis!” blurted out the boy. “The +Coyote’s all right. He wouldn’t lie to us.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed and, stepping to the boy, ran +his fingers in his hair. “I guess I’ve made a friend,” +he said in a wistful voice. Then he picked up +the bill on the table and stuffed it into the boy’s +pocket. His eyes encountered the poster again and +they clouded. He turned away from it.</p> +<p>“Miss, you’ll let me thank you––sure.”</p> +<p>She nodded, retreating a few paces.</p> +<p>“Then I’ll be going,” he said, stepping to the door.</p> +<p>“To––to Dry Lake?” she found the voice to ask.</p> +<p>“Yes. To Dry Lake.”</p> +<p>He left the house and in a few minutes reappeared +from the direction of the barn, riding his dun-colored +horse. He did not stop, but galloped down +the valley, waving a hand in farewell which the boy +answered.</p> +<p>The day was nearly spent. The sun was low in +the west, sliding down like a ball of gold toward +the rim of the blue mountains. A stiff breeze had +sprung up, driving the heat before it. At the lower +end of the valley Rathburn found the trail he had +left when he detoured to the ranch. He turned +westward upon it, put spurs to his horse, and sped +toward town.</p> +<p>It was just as well that the girl could not see +the look which came to his face as he rode into the +sunset.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_THE_LAW' id='CHAPTER_III_THE_LAW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>THE LAW</h3> +</div> +<p>Night had descended when Rathburn came in +sight of the little town on the edge of the +foothills. He rode slowly toward it, staring moodily +at the flickering lights between interlaced branches +which waved and weaved in the wind blowing down +from the mountains. In all the distance he had +traveled from the lonely ranch where he had met +the girl and the boy he had encountered no one. +He surmised that the trail to the desert hills to eastward +was not a popular one.</p> +<p>As he neared the town he saw that it consisted +of one main street with buildings clustered about it, +and numerous shacks scattered in the lee of the +hills. There were trees close to the eastern end of +the street which he was approaching, and when he +reached these trees he dismounted, led his horse into +the shadows, and tied it.</p> +<p>He walked down the main street, which was illuminated +only by the stars and the yellow gleams of +light from windows on either side.</p> +<p>There were several resorts, and one in particular +seemed the most popular. Rathburn glanced in +through the door of this place as he passed and +saw that it consisted of a bar and numerous tables, +where games were in progress. He did not stop +but continued on his way.</p> +<p>Few people were on the street; none of them +took any especial notice of him. Several doors +below the largest resort which he had so casually +investigated, he came to a small, one-story, white-painted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +building, which, save for the door and window +in its front, looked like a huge box.</p> +<p>Across the glass in the door was lettered in gold:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='smcap'>JUDSON BROWN</span><br /> +Justice of the Peace<br /> +Notary Public</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>A dim light shone within, and, peering through +the window, Rathburn saw that this light came from +a lamp in a second room behind the little front office.</p> +<p>He looked up and down the street and saw but +two pedestrians, both walking up the other side of +the thoroughfare with their back to him. He tried +the door stealthily, found it unlocked, and stepped +quickly inside. Three strides took him to the door +of the inside room.</p> +<p>A man looked up from a small table where he +was engaged in writing. He was a stout man, large +of countenance, with small black eyes under bushy +brows which were black, although his hair was gray. +He scowled heavily at the intruder who failed to +remove his hat, and who stood, with feet well apart, +in the doorway, a whimsical smile playing on his lips.</p> +<p>In a sweeping glance Rathburn saw that the room +contained a bed, wardrobe closet, several chairs, and +other articles of furniture and decoration of a bedroom +and living room. His eyes flashed back to +the burly man sitting at the table, pen poised, coolly +surveying him with a frown.</p> +<p>“Your name Jud Brown?” he asked, stepping inside +the room and to the side of the door toward +the table where he could not be seen from the street.</p> +<p>“I’m <i>Judge</i> Brown,” replied the large man testily. +“You should have knocked before you came in, +but now you’re here, state your business as quickly +as possible.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></div> +<p>“That’s a businesslike tone that I admire to hear, +Brown,” drawled Rathburn. “You’ll excuse my not +callin’ you judge. I’m afraid when you find out +who I am you’d think I was kiddin’ you!”</p> +<p>He smiled amiably while the justice glared angrily.</p> +<p>“You’re drunk!” flared Brown. “The best thing +you can do is get out of here––quick.”</p> +<p>Rathburn looked pained. “First you ask me to +state my business an’ now you tell me to get out,” +he complained. “You might as well know that I +never touch likker,” he added convincingly.</p> +<p>Brown was studying him intently with a puzzled +look on his face. “Well,” he said finally, with a +show of irritation, “what do you want?”</p> +<p>“I want you to tell me the why an’ the wherefores +of this document,” said Rathburn sternly as he drew +a folded piece of paper from a pocket and spread +it out on the table before the astonished gaze of +the justice.</p> +<p>“That’s one of a number I saw tacked on trees +on the east trail out of here,” continued Rathburn, +frowning. “What’s it all about, Brown?”</p> +<p>The pen in the hand of the justice suddenly began +to waver as the hand trembled. Then Brown dropped +it, squared away his chair, and looked grimly at his +nocturnal visitor. For some moments his gaze was +concentrated on Rathburn’s face. Then he slowly +read the poster offering a reward of five hundred +dollars for The Coyote. He wet his lips with his +tongue.</p> +<p>“So I was right!” he exclaimed. “You <i>were</i> +headed in this direction. I’m assuming that you’re +The Coyote!”</p> +<p>“And you’re assuming what’s the bare, untarnished +truth,” said Rathburn. “I’m The Coyote you’ve +offered five hundred for, an’ who’ll bring another +five hundred in several counties in Arizona, not to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +mention five thousand that the State of Arizona has +tossed into the pot. I suppose I’m worth at least +ten thousand as I stand here.”</p> +<p>“That would be cheap for a man of your reputation!” +said the justice bravely. “We don’t want you +across the line in California, Coyote. We won’t +put up with your depredations, and if you murder +one of our citizens you’ll hang!”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s chilling laugh hung upon the justice’s +words. “You’re side-stepping the point,” he said +suddenly in crisp tones that were like the crack +of a whiplash. “You’re anticipating events, Jud. +That’s my complaint––that’s my business here with +you.” He brought his right palm down upon the +table smartly.</p> +<p>“An’ now that I’m here, Jud, you’re sure goin’ +to listen!”</p> +<p>“Don’t threaten me!” cried the justice. “There +are a hundred men within call and they’d make short +work of you if they got their hands on you. Darn +your ornery hide, I’m holding the winning cards in +this game!” he concluded excitedly.</p> +<p>Rathburn was smiling at him; and it was not his +natural smile. It gave the justice pause as he looked +up into those narrowed gray eyes, shot with a steel-blue +light. Rathburn’s right hand and wrist moved +with incredible swiftness, and Brown found himself +staring into the black bore of a six-gun. Still he +saw the eyes above the weapon. His face blanched.</p> +<p>“There are six winning cards in my right hand,” +Rathburn said slowly. “You can start shoutin’ for +those hundred men you mentioned just as soon as +you want. Brown, it’s you an’ your kind that’s +made me desperate––dangerous, like you said in that +printed notice. I won’t fool with you or any other +man on earth!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>“What––what did you come here for?” stammered +the justice.</p> +<p>“To get away from––from back there in that +cactus-bordered country of black, lava hills where I +was born an’ where I belong!” said Rathburn grimly, +sliding into a chair on the opposite side of the table +from Brown.</p> +<p>“Listen to me! I was driven out. I’ve ridden +for a week with the idea of gettin’ where I wasn’t +known an’ where I could maybe get a fresh start, +and here I find a reward notice staring me in the +face from the top of the first hill I cross after +leaving Arizona. I’ve never been here before; I’ve +done nothing to molest you or your town; but you +sic the pack on me first off an’ hand-running, without +any reason, except that you’ve <i>heard</i> things about +me, I reckon.”</p> +<p>Brown nodded his head as Rathburn finished. A +measure of composure returned to him. His eyes +gleamed with cunning as he remembered that his +front door was unlocked and some one might by +chance come in. But he again felt troubled as he +conjectured what might happen in such event.</p> +<p>“You cannot blame me,” he said to Rathburn. +“You’ve robbed, and you’re a killer–––”</p> +<p>“That’s what you <i>hear</i>?” thundered Rathburn. “I +admit several robberies––holdups of crooked, gambling +joints like you’ve got in this town, an’ petty-larceny +bankers who robbed poor stockmen with +sanction of the law. I’ve killed one man who had +it coming to him. But I’ve shouldered the blame +for every killing an’ every robbery that’s been +staged in the desert country for the last three years. +‘The Coyote did it,’ is what they say, an’ the crooks +an’ gunmen that turned the deal go free. I’m talking +to you, Brown, as man to man––a thing I’ve +never done with any mouthpiece of the law before. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +I’m trying to show you how you an’ your kind can +make a man an outlaw an’ keep him one till somebody +shoots him down. I’m sore, Brown, because +I know that one of these days I’m going to get +it myself!”</p> +<p>The justice saw that the man was in deadly earnest. +He saw the hand resting on the table tighten its +grip upon the gun.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know all these things,” he said hastily. +“I had to judge by what I heard––and read. Why +didn’t you make all this known to the Arizona +authorities?”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed harshly. “Because I’d be framed +clear across the board,” he said jeeringly. “It’s the +law! It’s as much of a crime to rob a thieving +gambler or a snake of a whisky runner or peddler +as it is to rob a home! I’ve had to rob to live! +An’ all the while there’s been the makings of one +of the hardest-lookin’ bad men that this Southwest +country ever saw in me. And, now that I think +of it, why the devil I’ve held off I don’t know!”</p> +<p>Brown was moved by the sincerity of the man. +He saw in Rathburn’s eyes that he was speaking +the gospel truth. He saw something else in those +eyes––the yearning of a homeless, friendless man, +stamped with the stigma of outlawry, rebelling +against the forces which were against him, relentlessly +hunting him down.</p> +<p>“You say you came here to start over?” he asked +curiously. “How do I know you won’t walk right +out of this office and turn a trick right here in +this very town?”</p> +<p>“You don’t know it, that’s the devil of it!” exclaimed +Rathburn. “An’ there’s no use in my telling +you I won’t, for you wouldn’t take my word +for it. You’ve got me pegged for a gun-fightin’ +bandit of first water an’ clear crystal, an’ I won’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +try to wise you up because it wouldn’t do any good. +Now that you know I’m in this country, you’ll +blame the first wrong thing that happens on to me. +I’ve got no business here talking to you. I’m wasting +my breath. You’ll have to find out from somebody +besides me that I was telling you the truth, +an’ I reckon that coincidence ain’t in the pictures. +Where’s your handcuffs?”</p> +<p>The justice stared at him, startled.</p> +<p>“Where’s your handcuffs?” insisted Rathburn +angrily.</p> +<p>“In the drawer of my desk out in front,” replied +Brown.</p> +<p>“Go an’ get ’em an’ bring ’em here,” Rathburn +commanded. “I’ll keep my drop on you under cover.”</p> +<p>Brown rose and went to his desk in the front +room while Rathburn watched him in the doorway +with his gun held under his coat.</p> +<p>When the justice returned to the inside room +Rathburn moved a chair close against one of the +bedposts. He compelled Brown to sit in the chair, +put his hands around between the supports in the +back, and about the bedpost. He handcuffed him +in that position.</p> +<p>Drawing a bandanna handkerchief from a pocket +he swiftly gagged the justice. Then he rummaged +about the room until he found a piece of rope tied +about a pack in the bottom of the wardrobe. With +this he secured Brown’s ankles to the front legs of +the chair.</p> +<p>“There!” he said, standing back to view his handiwork. +“You’re pretty well trussed up. I ain’t +trusting you any more than you’d trust me, an’ I +don’t figure on you raising any hue an’ cry before +I can get along on my way.”</p> +<p>The eyes of the justice were rolling as he struggled +in vain to speak.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></div> +<p>“Never mind,” said Rathburn. “I reckon I know +what you want to say. Under the circumstances, +the same being so much on my side, you’d say you +believed me an’ all that. But I took a chance in +coming here to tell you what I did an’ I never aim +to take more’n one chance in a day. So long.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_I_KNEW_HE_LIED' id='CHAPTER_IV_I_KNEW_HE_LIED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>“I KNEW HE LIED!”</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn extinguished the light in the lamp, +walked swiftly to the front door, and outside. +Closing the door softly he turned back up the street. +He sauntered along slowly, debating his next move. +Evidently the town was the last for many miles in +the mountainous country east and north. Westward +he would come upon many towns as the country +became more and more densely populated toward the +coast. Northwestward he would be able to keep +within the arm of the mountains and still be in +touch with civilization. But he would have to make +some changes in his attire and fix that brand on +his horse.</p> +<p>Instinctively his course brought him to the big +resort he had noticed upon his arrival. The entrance +doors had been closed against the chill of +the night, but he could see the interior of the place +through one of the windows despite the coating of +dust upon the glass.</p> +<p>As he peered within he stiffened to alert attention +and a light oath escaped him. Walking swiftly from +a rear door was a tall man, the lower part of his +face concealed by a black handkerchief. He held a +gun in each hand and was covering the score or +more patrons of the place who had risen from the +tables, or stepped back from the bar, with their +hands held high above their heads.</p> +<p>“Keep ’em there an’ you’ll be all right,” the +masked man was saying in a loud voice which carried +to Rathburn through cracks in the window +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +glass. “Line up down there, now––you hear me? +Line up!”</p> +<p>The patrons lined up, keeping their faces toward +the bandit.</p> +<p>“If anybody gets to acting uneasylike it’ll be the +signal for me to start shootin’––understand?” came +the holdup’s menacing voice as he moved around +behind the bar.</p> +<p>“Open both cash drawers,” he ordered the servitor +in the white apron. He covered the bartender with +one gun while he kept the other pointed in the +direction of the men standing in line.</p> +<p>Obeying instructions, the bartender took the bills +from the cash drawers and laid them before the +bandit on the bar. He then made several piles of +silver near the bills, walking to and from the drawers +of the big cash register. Continuing to do as he +was told, he stuffed the bank notes and silver into +the masked man’s pockets, one gun’s muzzle against +his breast, the other holding the men in line at bay.</p> +<p>Rathburn heard footsteps on the walk close to +him. He whirled and saw two men about to enter +the resort. “I wouldn’t go in there,” he said sharply +in a low voice.</p> +<p>“Eh––what’s that?”</p> +<p>The two men paused, looking at him questioningly.</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t go in there,” Rathburn repeated. +“Come here an’ take a look.”</p> +<p>One of the men stepped to his side and peered +curiously through the window.</p> +<p>“Bill!” he whispered excitedly. “Look here. It’s +a holdup!”</p> +<p>The other man looked over his shoulder. He swore +softly.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet it’s The Coyote!” said the first man +in an awed voice.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></div> +<p>“Probably is,” said Rathburn sneeringly. “They +say he was heading this way.”</p> +<p>“Good place to stay out of––if it’s <i>him</i>,” declared +the second man.</p> +<p>Rathburn suddenly pulled back his left sleeve. “See +that?” he said, pointing to his left forearm.</p> +<p>The two men stared at the bared forearm in the +yellow light which shone through the dust-stained +window. They saw a scar about three inches below +the elbow.</p> +<p>“Looks like a bullet made that,” one of the men +observed.</p> +<p>“You’re right,” said Rathburn, letting down his +shirt sleeve. “A bullet from The Coyote’s gun left +that mark.”</p> +<p>The men looked at him wonderingly and respectfully.</p> +<p>“You boys live here?” asked Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Sure,” was the reply. “We work in the Pine +Knot Hotel an’ stables. You from the hills?”</p> +<p>“Yep,” answered Rathburn. “Cow-puncher an’ +horseshoer an’ one thing an’ another. What’s he +doing now?” He again turned his attention to the +scene within the resort, as did the two men with +him.</p> +<p>The bandit was backing away from the bar toward +the rear of the room, still keeping his guns +thrust out before him, menacing the men who stood +with uplifted hands.</p> +<p>“You can tell your funny judge that I called!” +he sang out as he reached the rear door. “An’ now, +gents,” he continued in an excited voice, “it won’t +go well with the man that tries to get out this back +way too soon.”</p> +<p>As he ceased speaking his guns roared. The +two large hanging lamps, suspended from the ceiling +in the center, went out to the accompaniment of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +shattered glass crashing on the floor. The three +smaller lamps above the back bar next were cut to +splinters by bullets and the place was in total darkness.</p> +<p>Then there was silence, save for the sound of +a horse’s hoofs coming from somewhere behind the +building.</p> +<p>Rathburn drew back from the window as a match +flared within and his two companions moved toward +the front door. He stole around the corner of the +building and started on a run for the rear. He +stopped when he heard a horse galloping toward the +east end of the street behind the buildings which +lined that side. He hurried behind two buildings +which did not extend as far as the resort and +hastened up the street. He did not once look back.</p> +<p>Behind him he heard shouts and men running in +the street. He increased his pace until he was +running swiftly for the trees where he had left his +horse. From above he caught the dying echoes of +hoofs flying on the trail up the foothills by which +he had come early that night.</p> +<p>The cries down the street increased, a gun barked, +and bullets whined over his head.</p> +<p>“The locoed fools!” he panted. “Didn’t they hear +that fellow ride away?”</p> +<p>But the shooting evidently was of a promiscuous +nature, for he heard more shots around by the rear +of the place where the robbery had been committed. +No more bullets were fired in his direction as he +darted into the black shadows of the trees.</p> +<p>He quickly untied his horse, mounted, rode in +the shelter of the timber to the east trail, and began +the ascent, urging his horse to its fastest walking +gait up the hard trail. The fleeing bandit’s sounds +of retreat no longer came to his ears, but he kept +on, scanning the open stretches of trail above in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +the starlight, a disparaging smile playing upon his +lips.</p> +<p>Back in the little town excitement was at a high +pitch. Extra lamps had been lighted in the resort +where a big crowd had gathered. Several men ran +to the office of Judson Brown, justice of the peace, +while others went in search of the constable.</p> +<p>When Brown failed to answer the summons at +his door, some one discovered it was not locked, +and the little group of men trooped in to find the +justice gagged and handcuffed to his bed. They +lighted the lamp and removed the gag. Then acting +upon his instructions they took a bunch of keys +from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs.</p> +<p>He stood, boiling with rage, while they alternately +hurled questions at him and told him of the holdup.</p> +<p>He ignored their questions as to how he came +to be bound and gagged and demanded more details +of the robbery.</p> +<p>“We took him to be The Coyote,” said the spokesman +of the group. He had been one of the men +the bandit had lined up. “He was tall, an’ blue or +gray eyes, an’–––”</p> +<p>“A puncher from up north picked him out through +the window,” spoke up one of the men who had +encountered Rathburn outside the resort. “He’d +been shot in the forearm by him once––showed us +the scar. The robber was The Coyote, all right.”</p> +<p>“Certainly it was him!” roared Brown. “He +came in here, tied me up after pulling a gun on +me, an’ threatening to kill me, practically, so he +wouldn’t have any trouble pulling his trick. Tried +to steer me off by saying he didn’t come here to +make any trouble. I knew he lied!”</p> +<p>The constable came in as the justice was finishing +his irate speech.</p> +<p>“I’m going to lead this chase myself!” cried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +Brown. “I want The Coyote, and I’m going to +get him. I raise that reward to a thousand on the +spot, and I know the sheriff will back me up. Get +out every man in town that can stick on a horse, +and we’ll catch him if we have to comb the hills +and desert country till doomsday!”</p> +<p>Already horsemen were gathering in the street outside. +Feeling was high, for Dry Lake prided itself +on its record of freedom from the molestation of +outlaws. The rough element, too, was strong for +a man hunt, or anything, for that matter, promising +excitement.</p> +<p>A quarter of an hour later Brown, who was accepted +as the leader when emergencies involving the +law arose, distributed his forces. He sent two +posses of twenty men each north and northwest. +A third posse of a dozen men started southward. +Towns to the west were notified by telephone as +was the sheriff’s office. The sheriff said he would +be on his way to Dry Lake in an hour. He was +amazed that The Coyote should be in his territory. +He, too, wanted the outlaw, and he praised Brown +for his reward offer.</p> +<p>Judson Brown himself led the posse of thirty men +which took the east trail up the foothills. It was +an hour past midnight. The moon had risen and +was flooding the tumbled landscape with its cold, +white light. From different vantage points on ridges +high above, two men looked grimly down and saw +the moving shadows of the man hunters as they +took the trail.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_A_CAPTURE' id='CHAPTER_V_A_CAPTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>A CAPTURE</h3> +</div> +<p>Three hours after the posses scattered on their +search for The Coyote, spurred by thoughts of +the reward of a thousand dollars offered by San +Jacinto county, and Judson Brown’s declaration that +the reward would be increased by the thousands more +which Arizona had laid upon the fugitive’s head, +Rathburn smiled at the rosy dawn in supreme satisfaction.</p> +<p>He had not lost his man’s trail during the early +morning hours. Time and again he had outwitted +the man ahead when the latter had waited to scan +the back trail for signs of pursuit; more than once +he had gained ground when screened by timber +growth close to the trail; every stretch of dust-filled +trail had been taken advantage of, while the +soft going underfoot had deadened the sound of +his horse’s flying hoofs.</p> +<p>The bandit had traveled fast and he had kept +steadily to the eastward. This last was what caused +Rathburn to smile with satisfaction. The man for +whose crime Rathburn was suspected was heading +straight for Rathburn’s own stamping ground––the +far-distant desert range, which he knew from the +low horizon in the south to the white-capped peaks +in the north. To catch up with him would be but +a matter of a few hours, Rathburn reflected contentedly.</p> +<p>Nor had the posse gained upon the two men ahead. +Brown’s men, perhaps, did not have as excellent +specimens of horseflesh as Rathburn and his quarry +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +rode. Nor did they possess the trail knowledge, +the tricks which Rathburn knew, and which the latter, +more or less to his surprise, found that the +man ahead knew. Whatever it was that caused that +curling, sneering smile of contempt to play upon +Rathburn’s lips at intervals, it was not scorn of the +riding ability of the man he was pursuing.</p> +<p>Moreover, both men ahead were saving their +horses’ strength against a probable spurt by the posse +at daylight. It would not be a hard matter to follow +their trail by the bright light of broad day. So far +as he could determine, Rathburn did not believe the +man ahead knew he was followed by a solitary rider +who was between him and the hounds of the law.</p> +<p>Under the circumstances, the bandit would expect +to be pursued by a number, Rathburn reasoned. He +was ordering his pursuit on this theory, and he did +not intend to take any more time than was absolutely +necessary in catching up with the man ahead.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s horse had not been hard ridden the day +preceding, nor for several days before that. He had +journeyed westward by easy stages, taking his time, +favoring his mount in anticipation of some unforeseen +emergency which might require hard riding. +And he well knew the extraordinary powers of speed +and endurance which the animal possessed.</p> +<p>He frowned as he thought of the brand. He had +not been under the impression that the iron his horse +wore was generally known to the authorities. He +would have to hole-up somewhere in the hills before +long and attend to that brand. As it was, it was a +dead give-away as to his identity. He could thank +Brown for this bit of information, anyway.</p> +<p>With the dawn, Rathburn found it easier to keep +on his man’s trail without being seen himself. He +gained considerable until he estimated that he was not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +more than a mile and a half, or two miles at most, +behind.</p> +<p>The sun was up when he reached the crest of the +high ridge where was the tall pine and the sign which +he had first seen the afternoon before.</p> +<p>He hesitated, debating whether to let the printed +notice remain with his penciled inscription about the +Arizona reward on it, or to tear it down. Then he +saw the man he was pursuing below on the trail. +He moved swiftly out of sight down the eastern side +of the ridge. But when he came to the next vantage +point he discovered that his man had apparently seen +him; for he was riding at a mad gallop on the trail +which wound eastward along the edge of the hills.</p> +<p>“Now’s as good a time as any, hoss!” he cried to +his mount as he drove in his spurs and dashed in +swift pursuit.</p> +<p>Down the winding trail plunged horse and rider. +The dun slipped and slid on the hard surface of the +steep declivities and finally emerged upon the more +open path which the man ahead was following.</p> +<p>Rathburn no longer made any attempt at concealment. +He was after the man ahead, and, somewhere +behind, a posse was in mad pursuit. If he were captured +before he could overtake the bandit who was +responsible for the robbery, the latter would very +likely escape––was certain to make his get-away, in +fact.</p> +<p>Rathburn called upon his horse by voice and spur +for all the speed there was in him. He could see the +fugitive ahead urging his horse to its utmost. The +race was on in earnest. Thus they came to a long +stretch of open, level trail. Here Rathburn’s horse +began slowly to gain.</p> +<p>The man ahead turned in his saddle, and Rathburn +saw the glint of sunlight on dull metal. He brought +out his own gun. But the other did not fire. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +kept on, half-turned in the saddle, watching his pursuer +keenly. Rathburn continued to gain upon him.</p> +<p>They now were less than half a mile apart, and +the fugitive suddenly turned his horse due north, +straight toward the hills, and sent a volley of shots +whistling in his pursuer’s direction.</p> +<p>Rathburn held his fire. The bullets flew wide of +their mark, and he could see his man reloading as he +rode. Rathburn now cut across, racing for the point +where he thought the other would reach the hills. +His horse rose to the emergency with a tremendous +burst of speed. He was close enough now to shoot +with a reasonable certainty of scoring a hit on his +flying target. But he had no desire to kill, and he +could not be certain, at that distance, of merely +wounding his quarry. He also recoiled from the +thought that he might accidently hit the other’s splendid +horse.</p> +<p>Just ahead a thin line of straggling pines ranged +down the gradual slope from the first low ridge of +the hills for which they were heading. Rathburn +swung north and gained the shelter of this screen +just as the other rider again began firing. The trees +now were between them, and each was an equal distance +from the gentle slope of the ridge.</p> +<p>Rathburn called upon his horse for a last, heartbreaking +burst of speed and the dun made good. +At the beginning of the slope to the ridge, Rathburn +veered sharply to the right and burst through the +trees a scant rod or two from his man. His gun +was leveled straight at the other, who had been caught +momentarily off his guard.</p> +<p>“Drop it!” shouted Rathburn, racing toward him.</p> +<p>The man’s right hand fell to his side while he +checked his horse with his left. Rathburn rode in +close to him and they came to a halt. Rathburn’s lips +were curled in a smile of contempt. The other stared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +at him, white-faced, his eyes wide and inquiring. +The fingers of his right hand relaxed, and the gun +fell to the ground. Rathburn swung low in the +saddle and scooped it up, thrusting it into a pocket of +his coat.</p> +<p>“Now beat it up over that ridge ahead,” Rathburn +ordered. “And be quick about it. That posse may +be close behind us.”</p> +<p>The other’s eyes lit up with surprise. “You––you’re +not an officer?” he stammered.</p> +<p>“Shut up, you fool!” cried Rathburn. “You want +to stay here an’ talk when there’s a score or two of +men after us? I’m worse than an officer. Slope for +that ridge now. Hurry!”</p> +<p>The man put the steel to his horse, and they dashed +up the slope, crossed the ridge, and found themselves +in a thick growth of timber which covered a large +area.</p> +<p>“Pick your way into the middle of that patch of +timber,” snapped out Rathburn. “An’ don’t forget +I’ll be right close behind you. Get going––don’t +gape!”</p> +<p>The captive’s face flushed at the other’s manner +and the indubitable note of contempt in his voice. +But he obeyed the instructions and pushed into the +timber.</p> +<p>When they had proceeded some distance Rathburn +called a halt. “Ever been in this country before?” +he demanded with a sneer.</p> +<p>“Yes.” The other was more composed now. He +studied his captor curiously and seemed more at ease. +Evidently he was heartened by the fact that Rathburn +had said he was not an officer and he believed +him.</p> +<p>“I suppose you’re after what I’m carrying on me,” +he said with a touch of bitterness. “I guess I’d have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +had as much chance as I’ve got now if I’d started +shootin’ even after you got the drop on me!”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed harshly. “You never had a +chance from the start, if you only knew it,” he +jeered. “Why, you upstart, you’re not entitled to +any chance!”</p> +<p>The other man’s face darkened in swift anger. +“Brave talk,” he said sneeringly. “You’ve got me +where you want me, so you can say anything.”</p> +<p>“I’ve got a pile to say,” replied Rathburn shortly. +“But this isn’t the time or place to say it. We want +to be good an’ away out of that posse’s path––an’ +quick.”</p> +<p>“You might as well take what you’re after an’ then +each of us can look out for himself,” was the hot +retort.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at the man quizzically. “You’ve +got more spunk than I thought,” he mused.</p> +<p>He stared at the other man closely. The bandit +could not have been more than twenty-five or twenty-six. +He was tall, well-built, blond. His hair and +eyes were about the color of Rathburn’s. But Rathburn +particularly noted the man’s face, and whatever +it was he saw there caused him to shrug and frown +deeply.</p> +<p>“What’s your name?” he demanded coldly.</p> +<p>“Percy,” sneeringly replied the other.</p> +<p>“That’s good enough for me,” said Rathburn +cheerfully. “All I need is a name to call you by. +Now, Percy, if you’re acquainted with this country +in here an’ can steer the way to where the posse’ll +be liable to overlook us you better be leading on. I +see you’ve ditched your other gun somewhere––you +had two.”</p> +<p>“So you want me to take you where you’ll be +safe so you can rob me, maybe shoot me down, an’ +then make your get-away,” the other accused.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></div> +<p>Rathburn looked him straight in the eyes. “If +you think I’m the kind of a man who’d shoot another +down in cold blood when he was helpless you don’t +know much about human beings,” he said slowly. “I +have no intention of murdering you or harming you +a-tall, if you’re halfway careful. If you feel that it’s +against your principles to lead this expedition to +temporary safety, we can turn back toward Dry +Lake. We’re going to do one thing or the other +within one minute!”</p> +<p>“Oh, come on,” muttered the captive. He led the +way through the timber to its western edge, then +turned north in the shelter of the trees traversing a +long, high, rocky ridge.</p> +<p>“Our horses won’t leave any tracks here,” he +called back. “Or maybe you don’t care whether we +leave any tracks or not,” he added sarcastically.</p> +<p>Rathburn spurred his horse alongside of him. “It +doesn’t make a bit of difference to me,” he said. +“You’re the one that’s got to be scared of that posse, +Percy, not me. If it wasn’t for one thing I’d take +you right down there to meet ’em!”</p> +<p>The other looked at him both in anger and perplexity. +“Suppose you’d object to tellin’ what that +one thing is,” he said savagely.</p> +<p>“Well, it may be that I feel sorry for you,” said +Rathburn as if to himself. “An’ it may be that I +want credit for bringing you in without the help of +any posse an’ without them knowing it!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_REAL_LOWDOWN' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_REAL_LOWDOWN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE REAL LOW-DOWN</h3> +</div> +<p>They rode on in silence. When they reached the +north end of the ridge the man in the lead turned +west on a slope studded with large boulders and rock +outcroppings. There was considerable shale here, +too, and they had to proceed cautiously in spots, +both for fear of sliding down the shale and to prevent +making much noise.</p> +<p>“If they follow us up here, we can hear ’em before +they get to us,” said the man who called himself +Percy, with a shrug and a frowning look at his +companion.</p> +<p>Rathburn did not reply.</p> +<p>They continued across the slope and descended +into a large bowl or pocket, guarded by huge boulders +and scattering trees on the slope above.</p> +<p>“Guess it’s safe to rest our horses here,” said +Percy. “We can hear ’em coming either way; but +I don’t think they’ll get up here.”</p> +<p>However, neither he nor Rathburn knew how many +men Brown had at his command, nor did they know +that the sheriff of the county, with two deputies, had +raced to Dry Lake by automobile, procured horses, +and hastened to join Brown on the east trail, which +seemed the most likely route of escape for the outlaw.</p> +<p>There was a spring in the pocket surrounded by a +small meadow of good grass. The pair watered +their horses, loosened their saddle-cinches, and permitted +the animals to graze with reins dangling.</p> +<p>Rathburn took his slicker pack from the rear of +his saddle and spread it open on the ground.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></div> +<p>“Reckon it’s safe to build a small fire here?” he +asked cheerfully. “I’m powerful hungry, an’ I’ve +got some emergency provisions––being trail-broke.”</p> +<p>Percy, too, was hungry, as his eager look toward +the pack testified.</p> +<p>“I’ll climb up to the top on the lower side an’ +keep an eye out while you fix some grub,” he volunteered. +“You needn’t be scared of me jumping over +the other side. There’s a drop of about five hundred +feet over there.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead and jump if you want,” said Rathburn. +“Me––I’d rather live. That’s why I want to eat.”</p> +<p>While the other climbed to his lookout position +Rathburn made a fire. Then he took a small frying +pan and coffeepot, minus its handle, from the pack, +removed the packages stuffed in them, and soon was +making coffee, frying bacon, and warming up beans. +This, with some hard biscuits and some sirup out of +a bottle, constituted their meal, which Rathburn soon +had ready.</p> +<p>Again he looked closely at Percy’s face as the +latter scrambled down from his perch to appease his +hunger.</p> +<p>Suddenly he burst out laughing; but it was a belittling +laugh, half sneering, which brought the +blood to the face of the captive while Rathburn +watched him closely.</p> +<p>“If I had to-day’s actions to do over again you +mightn’t be so tickled,” said the man viciously.</p> +<p>“I’m laughing to think how lucky you are for a +rank beginner an’ botcher!” said Rathburn as they +began to eat. “You must have took a course in outlawing +from some correspondence school,” he continued.</p> +<p>“Maybe you could have done better,” hinted the +other.</p> +<p>“Quite likely I could,” admitted Rathburn. “In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +the first place I’d have shut that back door after I +came in so nobody could pot shot me from behind. +Yes, I reckon I’d have done that.”</p> +<p>Percy glared at him thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Then I wouldn’t have let myself get in line with +the front and side windows,” Rathburn taunted. +“Lots of men are shot through windows. Ever hear +of such a thing?”</p> +<p>His listener didn’t answer.</p> +<p>“An’ now that I think of it,” Rathburn droned +on, “I’d have lined those men up against the wall +with their faces turned away from me. That puts +’em at more of a disadvantage, an’ they can’t see +what’s going on.”</p> +<p>Percy now was regarding him keenly.</p> +<p>“Let’s see,” said Rathburn, with tantalizing slowness. +“Oh, yes, Percy. I wouldn’t have taken anything +from the cash drawers but the bills. I don’t +like to take the time to monkey around with a lot +of silver; besides, it sort of weights one down.”</p> +<p>He paused long enough to let that sink in, then +continued: “The thing I’d have paid most of my +attention to––excepting for keeping a watchful eye +on the men against the wall an’ the windows an’ +doors––would have been the safe. The big money’s +usually in the safe, an’ the bartender can be induced +to open the safe just as easy as he can be persuaded +into opening the cash drawers. An’ say, Percy, I’d +never let a bartender get as close to me as you let +that fellow get to you. He might start something, +then you’d have to begin shootin’ an’ that would +alarm the town an’ ball up the program.”</p> +<p>“You talk like you’d had considerable experience,” +observed Percy warily.</p> +<p>“Maybe so. Maybe I have. But if I have, I can +say I’ve never pulled anything quite so raw as the +way you pulled that stunt last night down in Dry +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +Lake, Percy. That is the real low-down on that. +You just naturally laid yourself open to attack from +all quarters.”</p> +<p>His captive looked at him both respectfully and +sheepishly.</p> +<p>“An’ there’s only one reason why you got away +with it,” said Rathburn, his eyes narrowing.</p> +<p>“Because I was lucky like you say, I suppose,” +sneeringly answered Percy.</p> +<p>“No!” thundered Rathburn. “You got away with +it because they thought you were The Coyote!”</p> +<p>The captive started; stared at Rathburn with +widened eyes.</p> +<p>“That’s why you got away with it,” continued +Rathburn in a hard voice. “An’ you thought you’d +cinch it when you told ’em before you went out +that they could tell their funny judge you called!”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes blazed with angry contempt. +“Trading on somebody else’s name,” he mocked. +“Trying to make out you was the goods, an’ I believe +they thought you was The Coyote, at that. +Man, I saw the whole dirty business.”</p> +<p>Percy’s face went white. However, his emotion +was more anger than fear, and he was prey to an +overpowering curiosity.</p> +<p>“How do you know I <i>ain’t</i> The Coyote?” he asked +shrewdly.</p> +<p>Rathburn stared at him––stunned. Then he leaped +to his feet and his gun flashed into his hand in a +movement too swift for the eye to follow.</p> +<p>“Go over there and look at the brand on my horse,” +he commanded. “Remember how that printed bill +read that put it in your fool head to try an’ masquerade +as The Coyote, an’ then read the brand on that +horse!”</p> +<p>The captive rose and without a look back walked +to where Rathburn’s horse was cropping the grass. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +The left side of the animal was toward him and for +a few moments he stood looking with bulging eyes +at the CC2 on the shoulder. Then he turned slowly.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s gaze burned into his, but a cool, deliberate +light had come into his eyes.</p> +<p>“So you’re The Coyote!” Percy said quietly. “I +should have recognized you.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m called The Coyote,” said Rathburn, +walking slowly toward him. “I’m the man they +think robbed that joint down in Dry Lake last night. +I’m the man they’re looking for. I’m the man they +want to make pay for your bungling work. That’s +the way it’s gone for three years, Percy. I’ve been +blamed for job after job that I didn’t even know +was pulled off till I heard they were looking for me +on account of it. But this is one job they’ll not be +able to lay at my door; for I’ve got the man who’s +responsible an’ I’ve got him red-handed!”</p> +<p>“What’re you going to do about it?” asked the +other coolly.</p> +<p>Again Rathburn’s eyes blazed with rage. “Do? +Why, I’m just naturally going to take you in all +by my lonesome an’ turn you over to the sheriff +with my compliments.”</p> +<p>Rathburn cooled down as he said this, drew +tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket, and proceeded +to build a cigarette. He looked at his man +queerly.</p> +<p>“Now I reckon you know why I ain’t got any +idea of taking that money off you,” he said.</p> +<p>“They might not believe you,” returned the other.</p> +<p>“I know what you mean. You mean they might +think I was putting up a job on ’em an’ trying +to shift the blame on somebody else. It can’t be +done, Percy. Listen to this: I was looking through +the front window of that place last night when you +held it up. Two men that work in the hotel down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +there came along an’ looked in alongside of me +after I warned ’em not to go in. I showed ’em this +scar on my arm.” He rolled back his left sleeve +disclosing a scar on the forearm about three inches +below the elbow.</p> +<p>“I told ’em that scar was made by a bullet from +The Coyote’s gun,” Rathburn went on, pulling down +his sleeve and drawing his right hand back to the +gun he had replaced in its holster. “That scar +<i>was</i> made by The Coyote’s gun. I shot myself in +the arm by accident some few years ago. Now, +here’s the point: Those men will remember me an’ +remember that scar. The descriptions the sheriff +of that county must have in his office will tell +all about that scar. It won’t be hard to identify +me by it an’ by the two men that stood out there +by the window with me. So they’ll know I didn’t +pull the robbery!”</p> +<p>The other man shifted uneasily on his feet.</p> +<p>“An’ that ain’t all, Percy,” Rathburn continued. +“Somebody saw me running up the street afterward +because they took a couple of shots at me for +luck. That’ll dovetail with my story. I’ve never +been known to use two guns. An’ if they want +any more proof all they’ll have to do will be to +stand you up in front of the men you had in line, +dressed as you are with that black handkerchief +over your face. That’ll settle it. I reckon the +sheriff will believe me an’ give me a chance when +he hears the facts, or I may not wait for a talk +with him.”</p> +<p>“I take it you’ve got me right,” said the captive, +compressing his lips. “But if you’re really The +Coyote I’ve heard so much about, you’ll give me +my gun an’ give me a chance to run for it!”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s laugh jarred on his ears. “Give you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +a chance an’ take a chance myself on going to the +gallows?”</p> +<p>“The gallows!” exclaimed the other. “Oh––I see. +But didn’t you say you thought the sheriff would +give you a chance if he met you an’ heard your +story? At that you don’t have to stay around +an’ get taken back to Arizona now.”</p> +<p>“They hang men in this State,” Rathburn interrupted.</p> +<p>“But––there wasn’t–––” The other man faltered, +staring.</p> +<p>“One of those shots you fired at the lamp went +wild, or glanced off something, an’–––” Rathburn +lifted his brows significantly.</p> +<p>“Killed somebody!” cried the other.</p> +<p>He staggered back just as a rattle of falling +stones signified that horsemen were in the shale on +the slope to eastward.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_WHERE_TO_HIDE' id='CHAPTER_VII_WHERE_TO_HIDE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>WHERE TO HIDE</h3> +</div> +<p>For the space of several seconds Rathburn and +his captive looked into each other’s eyes. Rathburn’s +gaze was keen, alert, fired by the quick +thinking he was doing. Stark terror showed in +the other’s look which gradually changed to one +of haunting fear and indecision. Then his eyes +became clear and he returned Rathburn’s glance, +cool and questioning.</p> +<p>“Get your horse,” ordered Rathburn, running to +his own mount.</p> +<p>In a twinkling he had tightened his cinch, caught +up the reins, and vaulted into the saddle. His +captive was at his side shortly afterward.</p> +<p>“You’re still in the lead,” Rathburn snapped out; +“unless you want to wait for ’em.”</p> +<p>The other whirled his horse, sent him flying for +the western end of the pocket, with Rathburn close +behind. They went up a steep, rocky trail, screened +by boulders. When they reached the top of the +west rim they looked back and saw four horsemen +on the shale slope leading to the pocket. Brown +evidently had split up his posse and was literally +combing the hills for his quarry.</p> +<p>“They’ll know they’re on the right trail when +they see the remains of our dinner an’ my pack +down there,” remarked Rathburn dryly.</p> +<p>“But they haven’t seen us yet,” said Percy breathlessly. +“If we can make Sunrise Cañon Trail we +can lose ’em in the mountains––that is if <i>you</i> want +to lose ’em.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></div> +<p>“Where’s the trail?” asked Rathburn.</p> +<p>“’Bout five miles west. It’s the only trail goin’ +up into the big mountains between here an’ the +other side of the Dry Lake range, an’ it’s a tough +one.”</p> +<p>Rathburn quickly sized up the country ahead. He +saw low and high ridges with towering mountains +to the right, or north, of them. There were scattering +pines on the slopes and patches of timber in +the wide ravines, many of which were veritable +valleys.</p> +<p>“We’ll run for it while they’re getting in an’ +out of that hole,” he suddenly decided with a click +of his teeth. “Their horses are in no better shape +than ours. Slope along.”</p> +<p>The other had dug in his spurs even before he +got the order. They rode swiftly down the steep +trail from the rim of the pocket and fled across +an open space and up the slope of the first ridge.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked back as they crossed it, but +could see no sign of their pursuers. His face +still was troubled; his gaze kept boring into the +back of the man on the horse ahead of him. At +times he muttered to himself.</p> +<p>They galloped up the hard bed of a dry arroyo +and swung westward across another rock-bound +ridge, picking their way carefully among the boulders. +Rathburn’s face became more and more strained as +he noted that the leader evidently knew the country +they were in like a book. Rathburn, with the experience +born of years spent in the open places, +was able to keep his bearings.</p> +<p>They had followed a course for some miles north +of the main trail leading east, the trail by which +he had first come into the locality. Then they had +doubled back westward, some miles above that +trail, of course, and now were heading almost due +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +north again, in the direction of the mountains which +did not appear to be far away. He surmised that +they were nearly directly north of the ranch where +he had had the meal with the girl and boy.</p> +<p>At the top of the next ridge his guide pointed +above them.</p> +<p>“See that crack in the mountain?” he said.</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded as he made out what appeared +to be a gash in the steep side of a mountain north +of them.</p> +<p>“That’s Sunrise Cañon,” said the other quietly. +“There’s a trail up that cañon into the heart of the +mountains where they couldn’t catch us––or you, if +you want to go alone––in a hundred years!”</p> +<p>He stared steadily at Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Mosey along, then,” said Rathburn. “Let’s get +somewheres before our horses drop.”</p> +<p>They kept along the ridge until it was cut by a +cañon. Here they descended and entered another +long, narrow ravine which they negotiated at a +gallop. At its upper end they again climbed a steep +slope. Their horses were showing the strain of +the hours of hard riding. Rathburn realized that +they could go but a limited distance. But the +members of the posse most assuredly must be in +the same fix so far as their mounts were concerned.</p> +<p>He decided that if they could get into the cañon +unseen they would be able to rest their horses and +remain secure for the night. Next morning +they could continue on up into the hills, or slip back +by a roundabout way to Dry Lake.</p> +<p>His lips froze into a thin white line. He did +not look at the man with him as they paused for +a few moments under the trees which covered the +top of the ridge and gazed at a long, gently sloping +stretch of nearly open country. It was covered +with clumps of trees at intervals, that reached to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +the dark, narrow opening in the mountains, marking +the entrance to Sunrise Cañon and the trail +to the fastnesses of the higher hills.</p> +<p>“You can swing off here to the left an’ down a +wide valley to where there’s a cut-off into Dry +Lake,” he heard his captive suggesting. “I don’t +see any sense in all this hard ridin’ an’ hidin’ +if you’re goin’ to turn me in.”</p> +<p>“We’ll go on,” growlingly replied Rathburn.</p> +<p>They descended the ridge and entered the long, +sloping valley, so wide that it virtually was a plain. +They made good headway, although they favored +their horses. They took advantage of the shelter +provided by the occasional clumps of pines. The +afternoon was drawing to a close with the sun +dipping sharply toward the western hills when they +came in sight of the entrance to the cañon. But +with the first glimpse they checked their horses +and turned into the shelter of some trees near by.</p> +<p>“Beat us to it!” exclaimed Percy.</p> +<p>“Four of ’em,” said Rathburn, frowning. “Brown +ain’t taking any chances. He’s a better man than +I figured him out. An’ there’s more of ’em!”</p> +<p>He pointed westward where two riders were barely +discernible on the crest of a ridge. They disappeared +almost immediately in the timber below.</p> +<p>“We’ll turn back,” Rathburn decided. “We’ll +ride with the trees between us an’ the men up at +the cañon, an’ keep an eye out for the pair to the +west. You might watch that side, an’ I’ll look out +for the east an’ south. C’mon, let’s drift.”</p> +<p>The face of the man who called himself Percy was +white and strained as they urged their tired mounts +southward. They skirted the western end of the +ridge by which they had gained the wide valley +and continued on, carefully scanning the landscape +in all directions for indications of pursuit. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +plain to them that they had been seen to leave +the east trail early that morning. Brown and his +men undoubtedly knew they had headed north, and +the justice had immediately dispatched men to guard +the entrance to the cañon trail into the mountains. +Then they had begun a systematic search of the +locality.</p> +<p>This deduction was strengthened when Rathburn +suddenly pointed toward the east. More riders were +to be seen on the slope of the valley’s side in that +direction. Even as they looked, these riders, too, +disappeared from view as they dropped down behind +a rise of ground.</p> +<p>The sun was going down fast. Already the red +banners of the sunset were flaunted in the high +western skies. The twilight would be upon them +apace––the long-lasting, purple-veiled twilight of the +altitudes. Then the night would close down with +its canopy of stars.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked speculatively at his companion. +“We’ll make a break for that clump of trees about +a quarter of a mile ahead with all our horses have +got left,” he said, driving in his spurs.</p> +<p>In a last mad dash which taxed every iota of +strength and endurance left in their beasts they +gained the shelter of the little patch of timber.</p> +<p>“Here we’ll wait,” said Rathburn coolly as he +dismounted.</p> +<p>“What?” cried the other, staring at him incredulously. +“We ain’t quite surrounded yet. We +haven’t seen anybody in the south. That way may +be open an’ it’s liable to be closed while we’re stayin’ +here.”</p> +<p>“Get off your horse and unsaddle him,” commanded +Rathburn sternly. “The best place to hide +from a posse is in the middle of it!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_TWO_QUEER_MOVES' id='CHAPTER_VIII_TWO_QUEER_MOVES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>TWO QUEER MOVES</h3> +</div> +<p>The captive complied with the order, looking +at Rathburn in a peculiar way––half disgusted, +half contemptuous. Indeed, he turned his back on +the other, leaned against the slender trunk of a +pine, and stared steadily into the south. He appeared +much worried.</p> +<p>The horses welcomed the chance to rest.</p> +<p>Rathburn walked slowly back and forth the width +of the patch of timber, vigilantly keeping watch. +He paid no attention whatsoever to the man leaning +against the tree. For all the interest he displayed +he might have completely forgotten his very existence. +In time this got on the other’s nerves.</p> +<p>“I believe you lied when you said there was a +man killed down there last night,” he said coolly.</p> +<p>“I didn’t say anybody was killed,” Rathburn returned +without looking in his direction. “You assumed +that part of it.”</p> +<p>“Then you wanted me to think so,” said the other +in a loud voice. “You was tryin’ to throw a scare +into me!”</p> +<p>Rathburn swung on his heel and stepped squarely +in front of him. “I let you think that to show +you what <i>might</i> have happened,” he said. “Such +things have happened to me an’ swelled the price +on my head. Now, darn you, if you talk that +loud again I’ll choke your wind off!”</p> +<p>The words came with sinister earnestness, but +they seemed to rouse some dormant strain of extraordinary +courage in the man to whom they were +addressed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></div> +<p>He suddenly leaped from the tree and struck out +with all the force at his command.</p> +<p>But Rathburn had anticipated the attack. He +knocked the other’s blow aside and drove his right +straight to the jaw.</p> +<p>“There’s a little souvenir to show you that I +mean business, Percy,” he panted.</p> +<p>Percy came back to the attack with eyes gleaming +with malice. Again he attempted to hit Rathburn, +but the latter stepped aside with lightning swiftness +and drove home another blow. He followed it up +with a left and right and Percy sprawled his length +on the grass.</p> +<p>After a time he sat up, dazed. Rathburn was +standing over him. But although he realized fully +that he was not a match for Rathburn in physical +combat, and doubtless was greatly his inferior with +his gun, his spirit was undaunted.</p> +<p>“You better finish me, or drag me in,” he gritted; +“for I’ll get you, if I can. I don’t know what +your play is, but you’ve acted too queer to-day +for me to believe you’re on the square one way +or the other.”</p> +<p>“You want some more, Percy?”</p> +<p>“My name is Lamy,” growlingly replied the other, +as he rose cautiously.</p> +<p>“Oh, o-h. Percy Lamy.”</p> +<p>“No, just Lamy. Lamy’s my name, an’ I ain’t +ashamed of it. You’d find it out––sooner or later––anyway, +I––expect.” He stammered during this +speech as if he had just remembered something––remembered +when it was too late.</p> +<p>Rathburn noted the frown and the confused +expression in Lamy’s eyes. He turned abruptly +and walked away.</p> +<p>A few minutes later he came back to find Lamy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +sitting with his back to a tree, staring unseeing +into the deepening twilight.</p> +<p>“Lamy,” he said harshly, “we’re going to get +away from this posse––maybe. Anyway, soon’s it’s +dark we’ll ride south. It’s just possible we can +leave ’em up here in the hills.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I refuse to go?”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll have to truss you up an’ tie you to +your horse, an’ don’t think I won’t do it!” The +ring of menace in Rathburn’s voice convinced the +other, but he made no comment.</p> +<p>When darkness had fallen they saddled their +mounts and started. They rode at a jog, keeping +as much as possible in the shadow of the timber. +Rathburn noticed that the valley gradually widened; +he showed interest in his surroundings.</p> +<p>Then, off to the left below them, he saw moving +shadows. He called a halt at the next clump of +trees. “Lamy, are there any horses running in +here that you know of?” he asked.</p> +<p>“There probably are,” said Lamy sarcastically; +“an’ they’ve probably got riders on ’em.”</p> +<p>“No doubt,” returned Rathburn gravely. “I just +saw some shadows that looked like horses down to +the left of us.”</p> +<p>“I expected they’d shut us off in the south,” +snapped out Lamy. “You gave ’em plenty of time.”</p> +<p>“We just naturally had to rest our horses,” observed +Rathburn. “As it is, they’re not good for +far, nor for any fast riding. Besides, I’ve changed +my mind some since this morning.”</p> +<p>“So? I suppose you’re goin’ to give me a chance?” +sneeringly inquired the other.</p> +<p>He could see Rathburn’s eyes in the twilight, +and suddenly he shifted in his saddle uneasily. For +Rathburn’s gaze had narrowed; and it shot from +his eyes steel blue with a flash of fire. His face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +had set in cold, grim lines. The whole nature of +the man seemed to undergo a change. He radiated +menace, contempt, cold resentment. The corners +of his mouth twisted down sharply. His voice, +as he spoke now, seemed edged like a knife.</p> +<p>“Lamy, hand over that money!”</p> +<p>Lamy’s brows lifted in swift comprehension; a +look of cunning came into his eyes––was followed +by a gleam of hope, not unmixed with derision. +He thrust his hands into his coat pockets and held +out bills and silver to Rathburn who stuffed the +plunder into his own pockets.</p> +<p>“That all of it?” demanded Rathburn sharply. +He made no effort to temper the tones of his +voice.</p> +<p>For answer Lamy dug into his trousers’ pockets, +under his chaps, and produced two more rolls of +bills.</p> +<p>“That’s the chunk,” he said with a sneering inflection +in his voice. “If you want I’ll stand a +frisk.”</p> +<p>“No, I won’t search you. I take it you’re too +sensible to lie!”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” replied Lamy dryly. “I suppose I’m +free to go now, unless you figure you’d be safer +by killin’ me off.”</p> +<p>Anger, swift and uncontrollable, leaped into Rathburn’s +eyes. Then he laughed, softly and mirthlessly. +“If I’d been minded to do for you, or had +any such idea in my head, I’d have given it to +you long before this,” he said. “It’s lucky for +you, Lamy, that I’m pretty much the breed you +thought I was.”</p> +<p>“Don’t pose!” retorted Lamy hotly. “You intended +to get that money and make me the goat +if you could, from the start. If you’d had any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +idea of turnin’ me over to Brown you’d have done +that little thing, too, long before this.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so,” Rathburn mused, staring at the other +thoughtfully in the dim light of the stars. “Maybe +I will yet. You’re not out of this––an’ neither am I. +Those shadows down to the left are getting plainer. +What’s that long dark streak over there on the +right?”</p> +<p>“Those are trees,” answered Lamy sneeringly.</p> +<p>“Let’s make for ’em,” ordered Rathburn. “Don’t +forget you’re still under orders, Lamy. An’ don’t +overlook the fact that I’m more or less in earnest +about things in general,” he added significantly.</p> +<p>They rode at a tangent for the dark shadow +of the trees. At the edge of the timber ensued another +long wait, with Rathburn uncommunicative, +moodily pacing restlessly back and forth. The +horses had another excellent opportunity to rest and +the fagged animals took advantage of it.</p> +<p>Once or twice Rathburn thought he glimpsed +a light far down the valley, but he couldn’t be +sure. Neither could he be sure he saw the moving +shadows on the opposite side of the wide valley +again.</p> +<p>The night wore into early morning and the moon +added its cold radiance to the faint glow of the +myriads of stars. Rathburn sensed the nearness +of enemies. Several times he stopped before Lamy, +who sat upon his saddle blanket with his back against +a tree trunk and dozed. Rathburn had to fight off +continual drowsiness.</p> +<p>For long hours he walked along the edge of the +pines. He dared not trust himself to sleep. He +dared not trust Lamy to stand guard while he +obtained some rest, and he knew that when the +sun came up and the day began, he would be +thoroughly awake again; for more than once he had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +gone two nights without sleep. Also, he assumed +that the hunt would be less spirited during the +night. Members of the posse would themselves be +drowsy, but they could spell each other and in that +way maintain their vigil and secure a few hours +of rest.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s rage rose at frequent intervals as he +thought of the predicament he was in through no +fault of his own. More than once he glared +malevolently at the sleeping Lamy; then the troubled +look would come again to his eyes and he would +resume his pacing, muttering to himself, staring into +the blue veil of the night. Once he sat down +and removed his right boot and sock in the darkness; +shortly afterward he again began his pacing.</p> +<p>He felt the pangs of hunger and shook his head +savagely as he thought of the scanty supply of +provisions he had been compelled to leave in the +mountain pocket.</p> +<p>His spirits revived as he thought of the horses. +They would be fresh in the morning; and he intended +that his horse should have a grain feed that +day. Rathburn always thought of his horse first; +and, although it might seem that he taxed the animal’s +powers to their utmost at times, he never +went beyond a certain point. He had often said +he would surrender to his pursuers rather than kill +his mount in evading them.</p> +<p>The first faint glimmer of the dawn was lighting +the skies above the ridges to the eastward when +he roused Lamy. He awoke with a start, stared +sleepily at Rathburn, then got speedily to his feet.</p> +<p>“You been awake all night?” he asked curiously.</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded, looking at him closely. “Saddle +up,” he ordered.</p> +<p>They rode southward at a canter in the shelter of +the edge of the timber. When the eastern skies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +were rosy red and fast changing to gold with the +advent of the sun they saw two things; a small +ranch house about a mile southeast of them, and +two riders some distance north.</p> +<p>Rathburn reined in his mount. He looked at +Lamy who met his gaze in defiance. Then Rathburn +reached into his coat pocket with his right +hand and drew out a gun.</p> +<p>“Here’s your shooting iron,” he said, as he held +the weapon out to Lamy.</p> +<p>The other stared at him in astonishment.</p> +<p>“Take it!” snapped out Rathburn. “Take it, or +I may change my mind!”</p> +<p>Lamy took the gun wonderingly, balanced it for +a moment in his hand, and shoved it into his holster.</p> +<p>Rathburn motioned toward the south and Lamy +rode along at his side. They caught another glimpse +of the horsemen in the north. As they drew opposite +the ranch house, on the west or front side, +they saw a woman leave it and walk the short distance +to the barn and enter. At that moment both +Rathburn and Lamy gave vent to low exclamations. +They had caught sight of riders in the south +and to the east. They appeared to be surrounded by +the posse.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at Lamy soberly. However, it +was Lamy who spoke first. “You said the best +place to hide from a posse was in the middle of +it,” he said scornfully. “Why not leave the horses +in the timber an’ run for the house? Maybe it has +a cellar.”</p> +<p>“I reckon that would be as good a move as +any,” replied Rathburn, to the other’s surprise. “I’m +game if you are.”</p> +<p>Lamy’s eyes flamed with excitement as he turned +his mount into the trees. They came to what looked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +like a bear pit or a prospect hole. It was partly +filled with brush.</p> +<p>“We can hide our saddles in there an’ let the +horses go,” Lamy suggested. “There’s a few horses +runnin’ in through here, an’ they may join ’em.”</p> +<p>“You can do that with yours,” said Rathburn +grimly. “You seem to forget that the brand on +this dun is pretty well known.”</p> +<p>He coolly tied his horse as Lamy followed his +own suggestion, hid his saddle, and turned his +mount loose.</p> +<p>They moved back to the edge of the timber and +waited until they could see no one in sight about +the house or in any direction in the valley. Then +they started on a run for the house.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_LEAVE_IT_TO_ME' id='CHAPTER_IX_LEAVE_IT_TO_ME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>LEAVE IT TO ME</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn had recognized the ranch long before +they came close to it. It was the place +where he had stopped for a meal with the girl and +the freckle-faced boy two days before––the day he +had gone on into Dry Lake. He saw no sign +of the girl or the boy or any one else as they +reached the front door and hurried inside.</p> +<p>Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lamy look +hurriedly about and step into the kitchen. He +followed him.</p> +<p>Lamy grabbed part of a loaf of bread and some +cold meat on a shelf above the kitchen table.</p> +<p>“There’s usually a cellar under the main room +in these square houses,” he said, hurrying back into +the larger room.</p> +<p>Rathburn stepped after him, and Lamy pulled +back the rug before the table and disclosed a trapdoor. +He raised the door, held out the food to +Rathburn, and whispered: “You better get down +there. Take this grub an’–––”</p> +<p>“What’s the matter? Isn’t there room for both +of us?” Rathburn put the question in a voice which +conveyed surprise.</p> +<p>“I thought it might be better if we––if we didn’t +both hide in the same place,” whispered Lamy. +“Then they’d only get one of us, an’ whichever it +was they’d think he was the one they wanted, see?” +He appeared excited.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes narrowed. His right hand darted +to his gun in a flash, and the muzzle of the weapon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +was pressed into Lamy’s ribs. “Get down there!” +commanded Rathburn. “Get down.”</p> +<p>Lamy hesitated with a wild look in his eyes. +The muzzle of Rathburn’s gun pressed harder against +his midriff. He dropped lightly into the cellar. +Rathburn pulled the rug against the trapdoor as +he followed, then let down the door, certain that +the rug would fall into place.</p> +<p>The pair sat upon some gunny sacks in the little +cellar until their eyes became accustomed to the +darkness; they could dimly see each other by the +faint light which came to them through some cracks +in the floor above.</p> +<p>They heard steps at the rear of the house; then +the pound of hoofs from in front. Rathburn saw +Lamy staring at him fixedly with a puzzled look. +He frowned at him. Rathburn still held his gun +in his hand. Both had forgotten the food which +Lamy had in his lap.</p> +<p>“Say,” whispered Lamy. “What was your idea +in givin’ me back my gun?”</p> +<p>He moved closer to get the reply.</p> +<p>“Shut up!” said Rathburn, cocking an ear toward +the trapdoor.</p> +<p>The sound of footsteps now was in the kitchen. +They heard horses snorting and men dismounting +at the front door. After a brief space there were +light footsteps in the room above followed by the +tramp of heavy boots.</p> +<p>“Good morning, ma’am,” came a deep voice.</p> +<p>“Good morning,” was the hesitating reply. Rathburn +recognized the voice of the girl who had fed him.</p> +<p>“Ma’am, I’m Sheriff Neal of San Jacinto County,” +continued the deep voice, as several feet shuffled +slightly. “These men with me are members of my +posse. Maybe you know Judge Brown?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></div> +<p>“I––I’ve seen him,” answered the girl.</p> +<p>Rathburn could feel Lamy’s knees shaking against +him in excitement.</p> +<p>“I believe we’ve met some time,” Brown put in. +Rathburn thought the justice’s voice sounded tired.</p> +<p>“Ma’am, we’re looking for a man––or two men.” +It was the sheriff speaking again. “Have you seen +any one around here this morning––any stranger, +or strangers, I mean?”</p> +<p>“Why, no,” replied the girl with a breathless +catch in her voice. “I haven’t seen any one.”</p> +<p>“You’re sure?”</p> +<p>Rathburn frowned at the sheriff’s tone, although +he kept his eyes on Lamy’s white face.</p> +<p>He smiled as he remembered that the sheriff +had mentioned two men. This doubtless was the +cause of Lamy’s agitation. Nor did he think Lamy +had forgotten that he, Rathburn, had pointed out +that he could prove he didn’t rob the place in Dry +Lake.</p> +<p>“You’re sure?” the sheriff asked again.</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” replied the girl. “I am sure.”</p> +<p>“Maybe she can get us some breakfast,” said +Brown hopefully.</p> +<p>“Can you feed five men, ma’am?” asked the +sheriff in a softer tone.</p> +<p>“Just sit down, and I’ll get you some breakfast,” +said the girl.</p> +<p>The two men in the little cellar could hear some +of the men taking chairs and one or two going +out to look after the horses. The girl’s light footsteps +retreated into the kitchen.</p> +<p>Rathburn smiled mysteriously at Lamy who was +shivering with a case of nerves.</p> +<p>“I can’t understand who that was with him––or +following him,” came Brown’s voice. “Somebody +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +must have seen him getting away and set +out on the trail while it was hot.”</p> +<p>“Either that or saw him beating it somewheres +on the trail east of town an’ took after him on +suspicion,” drawled the sheriff. “’Spect everybody +around here has seen those reward notices you put +out.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” said Brown. “I had the right hunch +when I got the tip he’d left his Arizona hangout, +sheriff. I figured he’d head this way. Then he +had the nerve––well, you know what happened in +my office.”</p> +<p>The sheriff chuckled. Then he spoke angrily. +“He can’t pull any of his stunts in my territory,” +he said growlingly. “I’ll hunt him down if I have +to put every man I’ve got on the trail an’ keep +’em there. I figure, though,” he added hopefully, +“that we’ve got him cornered in or around this +valley. We traced ’em here, and we got sight +of ’em yesterday. We’ll have ’em before night!”</p> +<p>“I hope so,” said Brown grimly.</p> +<p>“I’ve given orders to shoot to kill and not to +miss,” thundered the sheriff. “But I guess the +rewards offered for him would kind of steady the +aim of the man that got a crack at him.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face went white, and his eyes shot +fire as he listened to the sheriff’s cruel laugh in +which the others in the room above now joined.</p> +<p>Lamy signaled that he wished to whisper in his +ear, and Rathburn bent his head, although he kept +the gun handy.</p> +<p>“I’m not goin’ to risk shootin’ anybody if we +should be found or cornered,” Lamy whispered. “I +thought you ought to know–––”</p> +<p>“If we’re cornered you leave it to me,” Rathburn +came back. “I have reasons for everything I’m +doing. An’ don’t forget that I’d rather be grabbed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +for this simple trick of yours in Dry Lake than +for one or two jobs over in Arizona. If things +go wrong keep your mouth shut––don’t talk! If +you start talking any time I’ll try to kill you!”</p> +<p>Lamy drew back from the ferocity in Rathburn’s +tone and manner. That menacing message was again +in Rathburn’s eyes.</p> +<p>“Who’s that boy out there?” the sheriff called +sharply.</p> +<p>“Go in and say how-do-you-do,” came the girl’s +voice from the kitchen. “It’s my brother, Frankie.”</p> +<p>“Come here, Frankie,” said the sheriff.</p> +<p>The pair below heard light footsteps on the floor +above.</p> +<p>“That’s a fine crop of freckles you’ve got,” said +the sheriff.</p> +<p>Rathburn saw Lamy put a hand to his face and +make a grimace.</p> +<p>“Listen, Frankie, did you see anybody around here +this morning?” asked the sheriff.</p> +<p>“Who––who you looking for?” asked the boy.</p> +<p>Rathburn started; his body suddenly tensed.</p> +<p>“I’m looking for an outlaw they call The Coyote,” +returned the sheriff. “Ever hear of him?”</p> +<p>“Y-e-s. Ed brought home a notice about a reward +for him.”</p> +<p>“That’s the man we’re after. Rides a dun-colored horse; +tall, light-complexioned. Seen anybody +like that around here?”</p> +<p>“He was here day before yesterday,” said the boy +truthfully. “Sis gave him something to eat, an’ +he went on into town. He didn’t seem like such +a bad man to me. Told me never to lie.”</p> +<p>“He was here? Ate here?” The sheriff’s voice +was excited.</p> +<p>Rathburn saw Lamy’s eyes widen.</p> +<p>“Frankie,” the sheriff said soberly, “that Coyote +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +went into town an’ robbed a place. He’s a bad, +dangerous man no matter how he looks or what +he says. Have you seen anybody that looked like +him since?”</p> +<p>The question was followed by a deep silence.</p> +<p>Rathburn alert, his eyes gleaming, heard the sheriff +rise.</p> +<p>“Answer me, boy. I’m the sheriff of this county!”</p> +<p>“’Tain’t that––’tain’t that,” said the boy in a +tremulous voice. “Only––I’d rather not tell, Mr. +Sheriff.”</p> +<p>“You must answer me!” said the official sternly. +“Have you seen any one around here––yesterday or +this morning?”</p> +<p>“Ye-e-s.”</p> +<p>“When?” demanded the sheriff. “Don’t lie!”</p> +<p>“This––this morning,” stammered the boy.</p> +<p>“Where? Tell me about it, quick.”</p> +<p>“Two men ran across from the timber to the +house,” replied the boy. “He––he said not to lie +for him––but–––”</p> +<p>The sheriff stepped quickly to the kitchen door. +“I thought you said no one had been around here, +ma’am.”</p> +<p>“Why––I didn’t see any one,” came the girl’s +voice.</p> +<p>“I saw ’em from the pasture,” the boy confessed.</p> +<p>“Then they’re here!” cried the sheriff. “Search +the house an’ the barn!”</p> +<p>In the dim, narrow cellar Rathburn was holding +his gun aimed at Lamy’s heart.</p> +<p>“You remember what I said about keepin’ your +mouth shut?” he asked in a low voice, his steel-blue +gaze boring into the other’s eyes.</p> +<p>Lamy gasped. Then he slowly nodded his head.</p> +<p>“That’s your bond!” said Rathburn, as tramping +feet sounded overhead.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_CAUGHT_IN_THE_CELLAR' id='CHAPTER_X_CAUGHT_IN_THE_CELLAR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>CAUGHT IN THE CELLAR</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn rose and crouched under the trapdoor, +gun in hand. Lamy watched him, breathless, +perplexed, uncertain. They heard men running; +then there were no sounds from above and a deathly +stillness settled down.</p> +<p>Slowly and with infinite care Rathburn raised the +trapdoor an inch or two and listened intently. Lamy +scrambled to his knees on the pile of gunny sacks; +but Rathburn swung quickly upon him. They stared +at each other in the semidarkness.</p> +<p>“He said two,” breathed Lamy, a curious look +in his eyes.</p> +<p>“Are you afraid?” mocked Rathburn. “It’s me +they want––don’t worry. I may make a break for +it, an’ if I do there’s likely to be powder burned. +You can stay here an’ get out when they take after +me, if I go,” said Rathburn, and the sneer in his +voice caused Lamy to flush uncomfortably.</p> +<p>Rathburn petted the gun in his hand. “But before +I make a break I want to tell you something that +I should have told you before this, when I had more +time–––”</p> +<p>He bit off his speech as there came a sudden +recurrence of the sounds in the house. The trapdoor +closed down.</p> +<p>“Where’s the cellar?” came the sheriff’s authoritative +voice.</p> +<p>Many feet tramped upon the floor above them. +Then they heard the rug stripped back. There was +an exclamation from the sheriff and the sound of +moving feet suddenly was stilled.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></div> +<p>“Is there any one in the cellar?” the sheriff called.</p> +<p>Silence––with Lamy pressing Rathburn’s knee with +a hand, and Rathburn smiling that queer, grim +smile which conveyed so much, yet nothing which +was tangible.</p> +<p>“Get around here, you fellows,” they heard the +sheriff order.</p> +<p>The sound of boots and spurs attested to the +quickness with which his order was obeyed.</p> +<p>Rathburn leaned down suddenly and with lightning +swiftness jerked Lamy’s gun from its holster near +his side. He tossed the weapon to a corner of the +dark cellar just as the sheriff’s voice was heard +again.</p> +<p>“Coyote, if you’re down there I’m not going to +take a chance fumbling with that door. If you +ain’t there, then there won’t be any harm in what +I’m going to do. If I don’t hear anything when +I finish talking I’m going to give the signal to +my men to start shooting through the floor––and +I mean it. If anybody’s down there it’d be good +sense to flip up that door and crawl out hands first, +an’ those hands empty.”</p> +<p>“Sheriff, you’re bluffing!” said Rathburn loudly.</p> +<p>Then the sheriff spoke again in an exultant tone. +“I figured it was the best hidin’ place you could +find, Coyote. You’re right; I was sort of bluffing, +but I might have changed my mind an’ gone on +through with it. We’ve got you dead to rights, +Coyote; you haven’t got a chance. There’s seven of +us now an’ every man is ready to open up if you +come out of there a-shooting.”</p> +<p>Rathburn slipped his gun back into his holster. +He raised the trapdoor slowly until it tipped back +on the floor leaving the opening into the cellar clear.</p> +<p>“Two of ’em!” he heard some one exclaim.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></div> +<p>He looked up to accustom his eyes to the light +and saw a dozen guns covering him.</p> +<p>“Gentlemen, the landscape fairly bristles with artillery,” +he said amiably. “Who’s the sheriff? And––there’s +Jud Brown. Who let you loose, Jud?”</p> +<p>“I’m Sheriff Neal,” interposed that individual, +a slight, dark man with a bristly mustache. “Come +out of there––hands free.”</p> +<p>“For the time being, eh, sheriff? I expect you figure +on fixing those hands so they won’t be free, +eh? Well, all I’ve got to say is that I hope you +won’t spend the money foolishly, sheriff.”</p> +<p>Rathburn leaped lightly out of the cellar.</p> +<p>“Keep that other man down there covered, too,” +snapped out Neal. “It’s principle more than reward +money that invites me, Coyote. Hand over your +gun belt an’ be careful how you unbuckle it.”</p> +<p>“Sheriff, it would be against my code of ethics +to hand over my gun. It can’t be done, sheriff; +you’ll have to come and get it.”</p> +<p>Neal hesitated, notwithstanding the fact that he +had Rathburn covered and that several other guns +were covering him. Then he stepped forward, never +taking his eyes from Rathburn’s, and secured the +other’s weapon.</p> +<p>“That’s better, sheriff,” said Rathburn with a +queer smile. “You can see how I have my pride +an’ little superstitions. No man has ever took a +gun from me but what I’ve got it back! Thanks, +sheriff.”</p> +<p>Lamy had come out of the cellar. Several of +the men seemed to recognize him, but kept their +silence with dubious looks in their eyes.</p> +<p>“My guide, sheriff,” said Rathburn, pointing gayly +at Lamy. “He was very kind. He showed me +around the country––me not being very well acquainted +around here. I had to take his gun away +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +from him an’ sort of encourage him along with +my own, but he did very nicely.”</p> +<p>“Just what I thought, Neal,” said Brown. “This +fellow took after him an’ he captured him and made +him lead him. Isn’t that so?” he asked of Lamy.</p> +<p>“Just a minute, Jud,” Rathburn interrupted with +a frown. “I can’t let the importance of this momentous +occasion be transferred to a subordinate. +You must ask your questions of me, as I am the +central figure in this affair.”</p> +<p>The cry of a girl startled them. She came running +from the kitchen where she had fled when +the sheriff announced his intention to shoot through +the floor.</p> +<p>“Ed!” she cried, running to Lamy and throwing +her arms about him. “Oh––Ed!”</p> +<p>“Who is he, ma’am?” asked the sheriff. “Your +husband?”</p> +<p>“He’s my brother––Ed Lamy.”</p> +<p>“I can recommend him if you need a guide who +knows the country, sheriff,” said Rathburn genially. +“I guess he had an idea of making trouble for me +at first, but I had the drop on him an’ he soon +saw reason. I had to knock him down last night +when he got fresh, but he did very well. Of course +I had an advantage on my side.” He nodded toward +his gun which the official still held in his hand.</p> +<p>“Did he make you guide him?” Neal asked Lamy, +noting his empty holster.</p> +<p>Rathburn turned so that he could look at his +former captive.</p> +<p>Lamy nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I didn’t know +what minute I was goin’ to get shot in the back.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes glowed with an amused light. “I +didn’t have any idea of shootin’ him, sheriff; he +was too valuable as my escort on the tour. I wonder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +if the lady could spare me a cup of coffee an’ a +biscuit?”</p> +<p>He glimpsed the boy in the kitchen doorway behind +the sheriff. “Hello, sonny,” he called cheerfully. +“Did you catch those freckles from your +brother?”</p> +<p>The boy gazed at him abashed. There were actually +tears in the youngster’s eyes. Ed Lamy and +his sister moved into the kitchen and took the +boy with them. The girl had nodded to the sheriff.</p> +<p>“She’ll get you something to eat,” said Neal. +“What have you got on you?” He stepped to Rathburn’s +side.</p> +<p>“Ah––the frisk. I see you are a regulation officer, +sheriff.” Rathburn’s tone fairly radiated politeness +and good cheer. “The silver was rather heavy. It +ain’t my usual style to pack much silver, sheriff. +There’s more of the bills in my hip pockets. Don’t +suppose there’s more’n a thousand in the whole +bundle.”</p> +<p>The sheriff put the bills and silver on the table. +He investigated all of Rathburn’s pockets, returned +him his tobacco, papers, and handkerchief, but kept +a box of matches. Then he felt his prisoner’s clothing +to make sure that he had no weapons concealed; +he also felt his boot tops.</p> +<p>He looked at Rathburn with a gloating expression +when he had finished; there was also a glint +of admiration in the gaze he directed at him.</p> +<p>“You size right up to the descriptions of you, +Coyote,” he reflected in a pleasant voice. “Too +bad you couldn’t have been in a better business. +I’m glad I caught you, but I ain’t any too––too––well, +I might say any too proud of it. That may +be pleasant for you to hear. But I ain’t discounting +your well-known ability, an’ I want to warn you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +that I or any of my men will shoot you in your +tracks if you start anything that looks suspiciouslike.”</p> +<p>Rathburn yawned. “Sheriff, your courtesy is very +greatly appreciated. I only hope we will arrive in +jail or somewhere soon where I can get some sleep. +I’m all in.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_FREEDOM_BEHIND_BARS' id='CHAPTER_XI_FREEDOM_BEHIND_BARS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>FREEDOM BEHIND BARS</h3> +</div> +<p>In the early afternoon the little cavalcade rode into +Dry Lake. Rathburn was nodding in his saddle, +nearly asleep.</p> +<p>“We’ll keep him here to-night till I can get the +facts straight,” he heard Sheriff Neal say to Brown.</p> +<p>They dismounted at a small square stone building +with bars on the windows. Then Rathburn was +proudly led between a line of curious spectators +into jail.</p> +<p>Three rooms comprised Dry Lake’s jail. The +front of the building, for a depth of a third of the +distance from the front to the rear, was divided +into two of these rooms; one, the larger, being the +main office, and the other, much smaller, being the +constable’s private office. The balance of the building +was one large room, divided into two old-fashioned +cages with iron and steel bars. The +doors to these cages were on either side of the +door into the front office and there was an aisle +between the cages and the wall separating them +from the offices.</p> +<p>Rathburn was taken immediately to the cage on +the left of the office door. Sheriff Neal hesitated +as he stood in the cell with him, thought for a +minute, then removed the handcuffs.</p> +<p>“That’s right fine of you, sheriff,” said Rathburn +sleepily, but cheerfully, nevertheless.</p> +<p>“Oh, you’ll be watched well enough,” said Neal +as he closed the barred door behind him and locked +Rathburn in. “You’ll find somebody around if +you try to tear the place down.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></div> +<p>“That wasn’t just what I was getting at, sheriff,” +said the prisoner with a glitter in his eyes. “I +meant it was right fine of you to give me freedom +behind the bars.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s taunting laugh rang in the official’s +ears as the latter pushed the men with him into +the outer office. Rathburn listened, yawning, to the +sheriff giving instructions that the prisoner be watched +constantly.</p> +<p>He looked about the cage which was separated +from the other cell by a wall of sheet iron. It +contained nothing except a bench and a stool. He +pushed the bench against the stone wall at the +rear and reclined upon it, using his coat for a +pillow. Then he turned his face toward the wall, +shading his eyes from the light, which filtered +through two windows high in the wall beyond the +bars on the left side by tipping his hat over his face.</p> +<p>Immediately he fell asleep.</p> +<p>The news that The Coyote had been captured, +spread rapidly through the town and many came +to the jail hoping they might be able to see the +prisoner. All of these were denied admittance, but +Sheriff Neal told the few who stated that they +had been among the number the bandit had lined +up at the point of his guns, that they would be +called to identify The Coyote on the following day. +He asked each if they were sure the bandit had +two guns, and the reply in each case was in the +affirmative.</p> +<p>“That’s funny,” Neal muttered. “He only had one +gun on him.”</p> +<p>“More’n likely the other’s on his horse with his +saddle,” Brown pointed out. “I believe he left +his horse somewheres an’ made that fellow Lamy +take him to the house thinking he could get something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +to eat there, and that they wouldn’t be so +likely to be seen in the open on foot. You got to +remember that man’s more or less clever.”</p> +<p>This explanation satisfied Neal, and in the minds +of the men who had been in the resort when it was +held up, there was no question as to the identity +of the robber. Even if they had suspected otherwise +it is doubtful if they would have acknowledged +it because they considered it less of an ignominy +to be held up by the notorious Coyote than by a +bandit of lesser reputation.</p> +<p>Thus did the bonds of evidence tighten about +Rathburn while he slept through the late afternoon +and the twilight.</p> +<p>When he awoke a faint yellow light dimly illuminated +his surroundings. He lay thinking for +several minutes. He knew night had fallen and +surmised that he had slept a full eight hours. He +could tell this because he was fully awake and +alert. He turned noiselessly on his bench and saw +that the light came from a lamp burning near the +door to the outer office.</p> +<p>Rathburn could hear the hum of voices, and by +listening intently, ascertained that two men were +talking, one of whom was the sheriff. He could +not recognize the voice of the other speaker as a +voice he had ever heard before, and he could not +hear what they were saying.</p> +<p>He listened dully to the voices until he heard +a horse’s hoofs in front of the jail. He turned +back with his face to the wall, and his hat tipped +over his eyes, as a man entered the jail office with +a stamp of boots and jingle of spurs.</p> +<p>“Hello, constable,” he heard the sheriff say. “What +luck?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t find the hoss,” came a disgruntled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +voice. “Looked all afternoon an’ till it got dark +for him.”</p> +<p>“Confound it!” exclaimed Neal. “The horse must +have been somewhere aroun’ close. He sure didn’t +walk down the valley.”</p> +<p>“That’s probably right,” said the other. “I left +a couple of your men out there to keep up searching +when daylight comes. That feller Lamy showed +us about where they left the hosses––his hoss an’ +The Coyote’s––but they wasn’t there. He said +there was a bunch of wild hosses in the valley +an’ that they’d probably got away an’ gone with +’em. We saw the wild hosses, but we couldn’t +get anywhere near ’em––couldn’t get near enough +to see if any of ’em was wearin’ saddles or not. +We had some chase while it lasted, I’ll recite.”</p> +<p>“Did Lamy say how they came to leave their +horses?” asked the sheriff in an annoyed tone.</p> +<p>“It was The Coyote’s orders. Thought they’d +be safer in the middle of the posse or something +like that. Made Lamy leave the hosses an’ run +for the house an’ made him get down in the cellar +with him. Don’t know if he knew Lamy lived +there or not, but reckon it wouldn’t have made +any difference.”</p> +<p>The sheriff was pacing the floor of the office +as his footfalls attested. “I’ve ordered that Lamy +in to-morrow. I’ve a lot more questions to ask +him. Well, you might as well get a few winks, +constable; Brown and the rest of ’em have hit +the hay. Even the prisoner is tired out, and that’s +sayin’ something for as tough a bird as he is. +But I wish I had his horse. I’ve got to have his +horse!”</p> +<p>Rathburn was smiling at the wall. He heard +Neal walk to the door and look in. Receding footsteps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +told him that the constable was leaving. For +a time there was silence in the outer office.</p> +<p>Rathburn sat up quietly and began easing off his +right boot. The boot came slowly, very slowly, as +Rathburn worked at it, careful not to make any +noise. Then, just as it came free, the sheriff again +strode to the door and looked in.</p> +<p>He saw Rathburn yawning, as the boot dropped +on the floor.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at the sheriff sleepily as the +official strode into the aisle and peered in between +the bars. He tipped the bootless foot back on its +toes as he lifted his other foot and tugged at the +boot.</p> +<p>“That you, sheriff?” he asked with another yawn. +“The lights are so bad I can’t see good. Guess +I’m a little groggy anyway. I was too danged tired +when I went to sleep to take off my boots.”</p> +<p>“You’ve got another ten hours to sleep,” said +Neal with a scowl. “An’ you’ll have plenty of +time to get rid of your saddle soreness. You’ll +ride in automobiles and trains for a while an’ keep +in out of the hot sun an’ the wet.”</p> +<p>The sheriff laughed harshly at his own words.</p> +<p>Rathburn let the other boot drop. “I expect +I’ll get something to eat now an’ then, too?”</p> +<p>“Feel hungry?” asked Neal.</p> +<p>“Might chaw on a biscuit before I take another +nap,” yawned the prisoner.</p> +<p>“I’ll see if I can scare you up a bite,” said the +sheriff, leaving.</p> +<p>Rathburn heard him say something to some one +in front. Then the sheriff went out of the building. +The other man came in and looked at Rathburn +curiously.</p> +<p>He was of medium build, with white hair and +a face seamed and lined and red. Rathburn instantly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +recognized in his jailer a man of the desert––possibly +of the border country.</p> +<p>“So you’re The Coyote,” said the jailer in a +rather high-pitched voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn winked at him. “That’s what they +say,” he replied.</p> +<p>“You size up to him, all right,” observed the +man of the desert. “An’ I can tell quick enough +when I get a good look at you an’ inspect your +left forearm. I’ve had your descriptions in front +of my eyes on paper an’ from a dozen persons that +knowed you for three years!”</p> +<p>“You been trailing me?” asked Rathburn curiously.</p> +<p>“I have; an’ it ain’t no credit to this bunch here +that they got you, for I was headed in this direction +myself an’ arrived ’most as soon as you did.”</p> +<p>“You from Arizona?” asked Rathburn, grasping +his right foot in his left hand.</p> +<p>“I’m from Arizony an’ Mexico an’ a few other +places,” was the answer. “I’ve helped catch men +like you before, Coyote.”</p> +<p>Rathburn frowned, still keeping his hand over +his right foot. “I don’t like that word, Coyote,” +he said softly, holding the other’s gaze between the +bars. “A coyote is a cowardly breed of animal, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“An’ a tricky one,” said the jailer. “I ain’t +sayin’ you’re a coward; but you’re tricky, an’ that’s +bad enough.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so,” agreed Rathburn. “Ah––here’s our +friend, his nibs, the sheriff. He went out to rustle +me some grub. He wants to keep me fat for +hanging!”</p> +<p>His laugh rang through the jail, empty save +for himself and the two officers. But the temporary +jailer hesitated, looking at Rathburn’s eyes, before +he turned to the sheriff.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span></div> +<p>“Open the door and I’ll take it in to him,” ordered +the sheriff. “Can’t get this stuff through the bars. +You might keep him covered.”</p> +<p>The jailer’s hand flew to his hip for his gun +as he also brought up a large key on a ring. He +unlocked the door to the cage and held it open +while he kept his gun trained upon Rathburn.</p> +<p>The sheriff entered and placed the food on the +stool and a large bowl of coffee on the floor beside +it. Then he backed out, watching Rathburn keenly +as the latter sat on his bench with his right foot +in his hand.</p> +<p>When the door clanged shut and the key rattled +in the lock, Rathburn let down his right foot, took +two steps, and pulled the stool to the bench. He +stepped back and secured the coffee. Then he began +to eat and drink, keeping his right foot tipped on +its toes, while the two officials watched him attentively.</p> +<p>“Sheriff,” said Rathburn suddenly, between bites +on a huge meat sandwich, “could you let me have +a stub of a lead pencil an’ a sheet of paper to +write a letter on?”</p> +<p>“Easy enough,” answered Neal. “Course, you +know all mail that goes out of the jail is read +by us before it’s delivered––if it’s delivered at all.”</p> +<p>“I’ll chance it,” snapped out Rathburn.</p> +<p>As the sheriff left to get the writing materials, +with the jailer following him, doubtless for a whispered +confab as to what Rathburn might be wanting +to write and its possible bearing on his capture, +the prisoner hastily ran his left hand down into +his right sock and with some difficulty withdrew +a peculiar-shaped leather case about ten inches long +and nearly the width of his foot. This he put within +his shirt.</p> +<p>When the officials returned he had finished his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +repast and was waiting for them near the bars +with a smile of gratitude on his lips.</p> +<p>“This may be a confession I’m going to write,” +he said, grinning at Neal. “It’s going to take me +a long time, I reckon, but you said I had something +like ten hours for sleep, so I guess I can spare +two or three for this effort at literary composition. +I figure, sheriff, that this’ll be my masterpiece.”</p> +<p>His look puzzled the sheriff as he took the pencil +and paper through the bars and returned to his +bunk. He drew up the stool and sat upon it. It +was a little lower than the bench, so, putting his +paper on the bench, he had a fairly good makeshift +desk. He began to write steadily, and after +a few minutes the sheriff and jailer retired to the +office.</p> +<p>It did not take Rathburn a quarter of an hour +to write what he wished on the first of the several +pieces of paper. He tore off what he had written, +doubled it again and again into a small square, +took out his sack of tobacco which he had been +allowed to retain, and put it therein with the loose +tobacco.</p> +<p>Then he wrote for a few minutes on the second +sheet of paper.</p> +<p>When the sheriff looked in later he evidently was +slowly and laboriously achieving a composition.</p> +<p>Rathburn heard the sheriff go out of the front +door a few minutes later. Instantly he was alert. +He drew on his boots. He surmised that the sheriff +had gone out for something to eat and, though he +wasn’t sure of this, it was true.</p> +<p>“Oh, jailer!” he called amiably.</p> +<p>The wrinkled face of the desert trailer appeared +in the office doorway.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked about from his seat on the stool. +“This job ain’t none too easy, as it is,” he complained. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +“As a writer I’m a first-rate cow hand. +Lemme take your knife to sharpen this pencil with. +When I asked the sheriff for a stub of a pencil +he took me at my word.”</p> +<p>“Sure I’ll let you have my knife,” said the jailer +sarcastically. “How about my gun––want that, too?”</p> +<p>“Oh, come on, old-timer,” pleaded Rathburn. +“The lead in this pencil’s worn clean down into the +wood.”</p> +<p>“Hand it over here an’ I’ll sharpen it,” said the +jailer, drawing his pocketknife.</p> +<p>Rathburn walked to the bars and held out the +pencil. An amiable smile played on his lips. “You’ll +have to excuse me,” he said contritely. “I forgot +it wasn’t jail etiquette to ask for a knife. But I +ain’t had much experience in jail. Now according +to his nibs, the sheriff, I’m in to get pretty well +acquainted with ’em, eh?”</p> +<p>He watched the jailer as he began sharpening the +pencil.</p> +<p>“Speaking of knives, now,” he continued in a +confiding tone, “I got in a ruckus down near the +border once an’ some gents started after me. One +of ’em got pretty close––close enough to take some +skin off my shoulder with a bullet. He just sort +of compelled me to shoot back.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you killed him,” observed the jailer, +pausing in his work of sharpening the pencil.</p> +<p>“I ain’t saying,” replied Rathburn. “Anyways +I had a hole-up down there for a few days, an’ +as luck would have it, I had to put up with a +Mexican. All that Mex would do was argue that +a knife was better than a gun. He claimed it +was sure and made no noise––those were his hardest +talking points, an’ I’ll be danged if there isn’t something +in it.</p> +<p>“But what I was gettin’ at is that I didn’t have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +nothing to do, an’ that Mexican got me to practicing +knife throwing. You know how slick those fellows +are at throwing a blade. Well, in the couple of +weeks that I hung aroun’ there he coached me +along till I could throw a knife as good as he +could. He thought it was great sport, teaching +me to throw a knife so good, that a way.</p> +<p>“Since I left down there I’ve sort of practiced +that knife-throwing business now and then, just +for fun. Anyways I thought it was just for fun. +But now I see, jailer, that it was my luck protecting +me. Anything you learn is liable to prove handy +some time. <i>Don’t move an inch or I’ll let you +have it!</i>”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s hand snapped out of his shirt and up +above his right shoulder.</p> +<p>The man from the desert shuddered involuntarily +as he saw the yellow light from the lamp play +fitfully upon a keen, white blade.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_AGAINST_HIS_ETHICS' id='CHAPTER_XII_AGAINST_HIS_ETHICS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>AGAINST HIS ETHICS</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes held the other’s as completely +as would have been the case if he were invested +with a power to charm in some occult way. Moreover, +every trace of his amiable, confiding smile +was gone. His gaze was hard and cold and gleaming. +His face was drawn into grim lines. When +he spoke he talked smoothly, rapidly, and with an +edge to his words which convinced his listener that +he was in deadly earnest.</p> +<p>“I’m not used to jails, my friend, an’ I don’t +aim to stay here. You’re not very far away an’ +these bars are wide enough for me to miss ’em; +but I don’t think I could miss you.”</p> +<p>The jailer looked in horror at the gleaming knife +which Rathburn held by its hilt with the blade +pointing backward. The jailer was from the border; +he knew the awful possibilities of a quick motion of +the wrist in that position, a half turn of the knife +as it streaked toward its target. He shuddered again.</p> +<p>“Now just edge this way about two steps so +your holster will be against the bars,” Rathburn +instructed. “I can drop you where you stand, +reach through the bars an’ drag you close if need +be; but I’m banking on you having some good +sense.”</p> +<p>The jailer, without moving the hands which held +the pencil and his pocketknife, sidled up against the +bars.</p> +<p>Rathburn leaned forward. Keeping his right hand +high and tipped back, ready for the throw, he reached +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +out with his left, just through the bars, and secured +the jailer’s gun.</p> +<p>“Now it’s all off,” he said quietly. “If the sheriff +or anybody else comes before I get out of here +I’m just naturally going to have to live up to the +reputation for shooting that they’ve fastened on me. +Unlock the door.”</p> +<p>The jailer wet his lips with his tongue. The +pencil and pocketknife fell to the floor. Covered +by his own gun, now in Rathburn’s hand, he moved +to the door, brought out his key, and opened it. +Still keeping him covered, Rathburn backed to the +bench, snatched up his coat, and walked out of the +cage, motioning to the jailer to precede him into +the office.</p> +<p>There he slipped the gun in his holster and put +on his coat. The jailer reckoned better than to try +to leap upon him while he was thus engaged; the +prisoner’s speed with a six-gun was well known.</p> +<p>Rathburn drew a peculiar leather case from within +his shirt, put the knife in it, and stowed it away +in a pocket. Then he turned on the jailer.</p> +<p>“Maybe you think that was a mean trick––resorting +to a knife,” he said pleasantly; “but all is fair in +love and war and when a man’s in jail. You better +sort of stand in one place while I look around a bit.”</p> +<p>He backed behind the desk in the big office, +opened two or three drawers, and brought out a pair +of handcuffs. He moved around in front of the +jailer again.</p> +<p>“Hold out your hands,” he commanded. “That’s +it.” He snapped the handcuffs on with one hand +while he kept the other on the butt of his gun.</p> +<p>“You don’t seem to have much to say,” he commented.</p> +<p>“What’s the use?” said the jailer. “I know when +a man’s got me dead to rights. But I’ll be on your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +trail again, an’ if I ever get within shootin’ distance +of you an’ see you first, you’ll never get another +chance to pull a knife.”</p> +<p>“Well said,” Rathburn admitted. “Now we understand +each other. But I don’t intend for you to +ever get within shooting distance of me.”</p> +<p>Rathburn glanced casually about. “Now it seems +to me,” he resumed, “that most of these fellows who +gum up their jail breaks make a mistake by hurrying. +Suppose you just walk natural-like through that +door and into the cage I just had the foresight to +leave. That’s it––right on in.”</p> +<p>He turned the key which the jailer had left in the +lock. “Now you’re all right unless you start hollering,” +said Rathburn.</p> +<p>He stood quietly in the doorway between the office +and the cages. The man from the desert studied +him. He saw a variety of expressions flit over +Rathburn’s face––anger, determination, scorn, resolve. +He was deliberately ignoring his opportunity +to make his escape while conditions were propitious; +he was waiting!</p> +<p>Although the jailer felt the urge to cry out in an +endeavor to make himself heard outside the jail and +thus bring help, something in the bearing of the man +standing in the doorway made him keenly curious to +watch the drama which he knew must be enacted +sooner or later before his eyes, for The Coyote was +certainly waiting for the sheriff.</p> +<p>Rathburn now drew the jailer’s gun from his own +holster and toyed with it to get its “feel” and balance. +He dropped it back into the holster and in a +wink of an eyelid it was back in his hand. The man +from the desert gasped at the lightning rapidity of +the draw. Time and again the gun virtually leaped +from the holster into The Coyote’s hand at his hip, +ready to spit forth leaden death. The jailer drew a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +long breath. The man was accustoming himself to +the weapon which had come into his possession, making +sure of it. Now he again stood motionless in +the doorway, waiting––waiting–––</p> +<p>Boots stamped upon the steps outside, and Rathburn +drew back from the doorway in the aisle before +the cages.</p> +<p>The front door opened and a man entered.</p> +<p>Both the man in the cage and the man in the aisle +recognized the sheriff’s step as Neal closed the door, +paused for a look about the office, and then walked +toward the door leading into the jail proper.</p> +<p>The jailer opened his mouth to sound a warning, +but something in Rathburn’s gaze and posture held +him silent. Rathburn’s body was tense; his gaze +was glued to the doorway; his right hand with its +slim, brown, tapered fingers, hung above the gun at +his side.</p> +<p>The sheriff loomed in the doorway. Without a +flicker of surprise in his eyes he took in the situation. +His lids half closed as his lips tightened to a thin, +white line. He met Rathburn’s gaze and knew that +he now faced The Coyote in the role which had won +him his sinister reputation.</p> +<p>“Did I mention to you that I wasn’t used to jails, +sheriff?” said Rathburn evenly, his words carrying +crisp and clear. “I don’t fancy ’em. But I needed +the sleep and the meal. Now I’m going. Do you +recollect I said no one ever took my gun from me +but what I got it back? I had to borrow this one +from the gent in the cage. I’ll take my gun, sheriff––<i>now!</i>”</p> +<p>Neal had watched him closely. He saw that while +he was speaking The Coyote did not for an instant +relax his vigilance. The merest resemblance of a +move would precipitate gun play.</p> +<p>He turned abruptly, and with Rathburn following +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +him closely, went into the private room off the jail +office. He pointed to the other’s gun which lay upon +the flat desk where many had curiously inspected it.</p> +<p>Rathburn took it in his left hand and ascertained +at a glance that it wasn’t loaded. Therefore he +elected to carry it in his left hand.</p> +<p>“I won’t take a chance on feeding it right now, +sheriff,” he said. “Under the circumstances it would +be right awkward. If you make up your mind to +draw I’ll have to depend on a strange gun.”</p> +<p>Sheriff Neal’s eyes glittered; his lips parted just +a little.</p> +<p>“Now if you’ll walk back toward the cage, sheriff,” +Rathburn prompted. “Correct––don’t stumble.”</p> +<p>Neal backed slowly out of the door, through the +second door into the aisle before the cages, watching +Rathburn like a cat.</p> +<p>Rathburn slipped his own weapon into his left hip +pocket and with his left hand dug into his trousers +pocket for the key to the cage. He didn’t take his +eyes from Neal’s as he brought it out and inserted it +in the lock. His right hand continued to hang above +the gun he had taken from the jailer.</p> +<p>“Sheriff,” he said with a cold ring in his voice, +“this may seem like an insult, but I’m goin’ to ask +you to unlock that cage and go in. You can take +your time if you want, but I warn you fair that if +any one should start coming up the steps outside I’ll +try to smoke you up.”</p> +<p>For answer Neal, with the glitter still in his eyes, +stepped to the cage door, unlocked it, and swung it +open.</p> +<p>He took a step, whirled like a flash––and the +deafening report of guns crashed and reverberated +within the jail’s walls.</p> +<p>Neal staggered back within the cage, his gun clattering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +to the floor, his right hand dropping to his +side.</p> +<p>“If I hadn’t been up against a strange gun I +wouldn’t have hit your finger, sheriff,” said Rathburn +mockingly. “I was shootin’ at your gun.”</p> +<p>He shut the cage door quickly, locked it, and stuck +the key in his pocket. Then he threw the jailer’s +gun in through the bars and thrust his own weapon +in its holster.</p> +<p>“I want you gentlemen inside, an’ armed,” he said +laughingly. “If the jailer will be so good as to read +what’s written on the paper on the bench, he’ll learn +something to his advantage. Sheriff, you an’ Brown +were wrong in this, but the devil of it is you’ll never +know why.”</p> +<p>He left Neal pondering this cryptic sally, ran to the +front door, opened it, and disappeared.</p> +<p>Neal clutched his injured fingers and swore freely, +although there was amazement in his eyes. He could +have been killed like a rat in a trap if The Coyote had +felt the whim.</p> +<p>The man from the desert stepped to the bench and +read on the sheet of paper:</p> +<p>If anybody ever gets to read this they will +know that what I said about learning to throw +a knife is true. I can do it. I’ve carried that +knife in a special case that would fit in my sock +and boot for just such an emergency as came up +to-night. But I never would have throwed it. +It would be against my ethics.</p> +<p>The man from the desert swore softly. Then he +hurriedly picked up his gun and fired five shots to +attract attention.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_A_MAN_AND_HIS_HORSE' id='CHAPTER_XIII_A_MAN_AND_HIS_HORSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>A MAN AND HIS HORSE</h3> +</div> +<p>When Rathburn closed the outer door after him +he plunged down the steps and into the shadows +by the wall of the jail. Few lights showed in +the town, for it was past midnight. He could see +yellow beams streaming from the windows of the +resort up the street, however, as he hesitated.</p> +<p>He was mightily handicapped because he had no +horse. A horse––his own horse, he felt––was necessary +for his escape, but his horse was a long distance +away.</p> +<p>Rathburn stole across the street to the side on +which the big resort was situated, and slipped behind +a building just as the muffled reports came from +within the jail. After a short interval, five more +shots were heard, and Rathburn grinned as he realized +that the jailer had fired the remaining bullets +in his own and the sheriff’s guns.</p> +<p>He heard men running down the street. So he +hurried up street behind the buildings until he +reached the rear of the large resort, which was the +place Lamy had held up.</p> +<p>Peering through one of the rear windows he saw +the room was deserted except for the man behind +the bar. Even at that distance he could hear horses +and men down the street. Doubtless they were +crowding into the jail where the sheriff would insist +upon being liberated at once so he could lead the +chase and, as Rathburn had the key, this would result +in a delay until another key could be found, or +Brown, who probably had one, could be routed out.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></div> +<p>Rathburn thought of this as he looked through the +window at the lonely bartender who evidently could +not decide whether to close up and see what it all +was about or not. But the thing which impressed +Rathburn most was the presence of a pile of sandwiches +and several cans of corned beef and sardines––emergency +quick lunches for patrons––on the back +bar. Also, he saw several gunny sacks on a box in +the rear of the place almost under the window +through which he was looking.</p> +<p>Rathburn stepped to the door in sudden decision, +threw it open, and walked in. His gun flashed into +his hand. “Quiet!” was all he said to the stupefied +bartender.</p> +<p>He scooped up one of the sacks, darted behind the +bar, brushed the sandwiches and most of the cans of +corned beef and sardines into it, and then slung it +over his left shoulder with his left hand.</p> +<p>“The sheriff will return the money that was taken +from here,” he said coolly as he walked briskly to +the front door. “Play the game safe; stay where +you are!” he cautioned as he vanished through the +door.</p> +<p>There were no horses at the hitching rail, but he +saw several down the street in front of the jail. Men +were running back and forth across the street––after +Brown, he surmised.</p> +<p>Again he stole around to the rear of the resort; +then he struck straight up into the timbered slope +above the town, climbing rapidly afoot with the distant +peaks and ridges as his guide.</p> +<p>Some two hours after dawn he sat on the crest of +a high ridge watching a rider come up the winding +trail from eastward. He had seen other riders +going in both directions from his concealment behind +a screen of cedar bushes. He had watched them +with no interest other than that exhibited by a whimsical +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +smile. But he did not smile as he watched this +rider. His eyes became keenly alert; his face was +grim. His mind was made up.</p> +<p>When the rider was nearing his ambush, Rathburn +quickly scanned the empty stretch of trail to westward, +then leaped down and confronted the horseman.</p> +<p>Ed Lamy drew rein with an exclamation of surprise.</p> +<p>“There’s not much time, an’ I don’t hanker to be +seen––afoot,” said Rathburn quickly. “Where’s my +horse?”</p> +<p>“He’s in a pocket on a shale slope this side of the +timber on a line from the house where you left him,” +replied Lamy readily. “Or you can have mine.”</p> +<p>“Don’t want him,” said Rathburn curtly. “You +going in to see the sheriff?”</p> +<p>Lamy nodded. “His orders. Say, Coyote–––”</p> +<p>“He’ll probably meet you on the way,” Rathburn +interrupted with a sneer. “You can be figurin’ out +what to say to him. My saddle with the horse?”</p> +<p>“It’s hanging from a tree where you go into the +pocket. Big limestone cliffs there below the shale. +Say, Coyote, my sister an’ kid brother was tellin’ me +about your visit that morning, an’ I guess I understand–––”</p> +<p>“We can’t stand here talkin’,” Rathburn broke in, +pulling the tobacco sack from his shirt pocket. He +extracted a folded piece of paper. “Here’s a note +I wrote you in jail before I left. Read it on the way +in when there’s no one watching you. Maybe you’ll +learn something from it; maybe you won’t. I expect +you wanted money to fix that ranch up; but you’ll +get further by doing a little irrigating from up that +stream than by trying to be a bandit. You just +naturally ain’t cut out for the part!”</p> +<p>With these words he handed Lamy the note and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +bounded back up the slope. The screen of cedar +bushes closed behind him as Lamy pushed on, looking +back, wondering and confused, with heightened +color in his face.</p> +<p>It was late that night when Lamy returned to the +little ranch house. Frankie had gone to bed, but his +sister was waiting up for him with a meal and hot +tea ready.</p> +<p>He talked to his sister in a low voice while he +ate. When he had finished he read the note for the +third time; read it aloud, so his sister could hear.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Lamy</span>: I meant to take you back and give +you up, for I was pretty sore. Then I saw your +resemblance to your small brother by the freckles +and eyes and I remembered he had said something +about you saying some decent things about +me. I guess you thought they were nice things, +anyway.</p> +<p>“Then I thought maybe you got your ideas +about easy money from the stuff you’d heard +about me, and I sort of felt kind of responsible. +I thought I’d teach you a lesson by flirting with +that posse and telling you that killing story to +show you what a man is up against in this game. +I guess I can’t get away from it because they +won’t let me. But you don’t have to start. I +was going to give you a good talking to before +I let you go, but I hadn’t counted on the little +kid in the house. I’m glad he told the truth. +He’ll remember that. I gave you back your gun +because you hit the nail on the head when you +said if I was square I’d give it to you and let +you make a run for it.</p> +<p>“I took the money off you so if they got us I +could take the blame and let you off. I can take +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +the blame without hurting my reputation, so +don’t worry. I’m not doing this so much for +your sake as for your kid brother and your +sister. I figure you’d sort of caught on when I +heard they hadn’t located my horse. That was +a good turn. Do me another by getting some +sense. There’s plenty of us fellows that’s quite +capable to furnish the bad examples.</p> +<p class='ralign'>“<span class='smcap'>Rathburn</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The girl was crying softly with an arm about her +brother’s neck when he finished reading.</p> +<p>“What––what are you going to do, Eddie?” she +sobbed.</p> +<p>“I’m goin’ to irrigate!” said Ed Lamy with a new +note in his voice. “I’m goin’ to build a sure-enough +ranch for us with this piece of paper for a corner +stone!”</p> +<p>Dawn was breaking over the mountains, strewing +the gleaming peaks with warm rosettes of color. A +clear sky, as deep and blue as any sea, arched its +canopy above. Virgin stands of pine and fir marched +up the steep slopes to fling their banners of green +against the snow. Silver ribbons of streams laughed +in the welcome sunlight.</p> +<p>In a rock-walled gulch, far above the head of +Sunrise Cañon, a fire was burning, its thin smoke +streamer riding on a vagrant breeze. Near by lay a +dun-colored horse on its side, tied fast. A man was +squatting by the blaze.</p> +<p>“I hate to have to do this, old hoss,” the man +crooned; “but we’ve got to change the pattern of +that CC2 brand if we want to stick together, an’ I +reckon we want to stick.”</p> +<p>He thrust the running iron deeper into the glowing +coals.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_WITNESS' id='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_WITNESS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE WITNESS</h3> +</div> +<p>The morning was hardly two hours old, and the +crisp air was stinging sweet with the tang of +pine and fir, as Rathburn rode jauntily down the trail +on the eastern slope of the divide and drew rein on +the crest of a high ridge. As he looked below he +whistled softly.</p> +<p>“Juniper, hoss, there’s folks down there plying a +nefarious trade, a plumb dangerous trade,” he mused, +digging for the tobacco and brown papers in the +pocket of his shirt. “I reckon they’re carrying on in +direct defiance of the law, hoss.”</p> +<p>The dun-colored mustang tossed his head impatiently, +but his master ignored the animal’s fretful +desire to be off and dallied with tobacco and paper, +fashioning a cigarette, lighting it, breathing thin +smoke as his gray eyes squinted appraisingly at the +scene below.</p> +<p>Winding down into the foothills, in striking contrast +to the dim trails higher up, was a well-used +road. It evidently led from the saffron-tinted dump +and gray buildings of a mine which showed on the +side of a big, bald mountain to southward. At a +point almost directly below the ridge where the man +and horse stood, it crossed a small hogback and +descended a steep slope between lines of jack pines, +disappearing in the timber farther down.</p> +<p>The gaze of the man on the ridge was concentrated +on the bit of road which showed on the hogback and +the slope beyond. A truck was laboriously climbing +the ascent. But the watcher evidently was not so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +much concerned with the approach of the truck as +with certain movements which were in progress on +the hogback at the head of the grade.</p> +<p>Three persons had dismounted from their horses +behind the screen of timber. One, a tall man, had +donned a long, black slicker and was tying a handkerchief +about his face.</p> +<p>“Juniper, hoss,” said Rathburn, “what does that +gent want that slicker on for? It ain’t going to rain. +An’ how does he reckon to see onless maybe he’s got +holes cut in that there hanky?”</p> +<p>A second man had made his way down the slope a +short distance. He took advantage of the timber +which screened him from sight of the driver of the +oncoming truck.</p> +<p>“I ’spect that’s in case the truck driver should +suddenly take it into his head to slide down backwards,” +said the observer, speaking his thoughts +aloud in a musical, bass voice. “One in front, one +behind; now how about the kid?”</p> +<p>As if in answer to his question the third member +of the party, evidently a boy, led the horses a short +way up the hogback where a good view could be +obtained of the road in both directions.</p> +<p>The watcher grunted in approval. “One in front +to do the stick-up, one behind to stop a retreat and +get whatever it is they’re after, and one on the lookout +to see there ain’t any unexpected guests. Couldn’t +have planned the lay any better ourselves, hoss.”</p> +<p>He was too far distant to interfere, even if he had +had any desire to do so, which was doubtful from his +interested and tolerant manner. Anyway it could +have done no good to shout a warning, for the +driver of the truck could not have heard anything +above the roar of his machine, and the trio had gone +about the preparations with dispatch. Already the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +truck was climbing the last steep pitch to the top of +the hogback.</p> +<p>The tall man in the black slicker and mask now +quickly stepped forth from the edge of the timber. +The watcher above saw his right hand and arm whip +out level with his shoulders. There was a glint of +morning sunlight and dull metal. The truck came to +a jarring stop as the driver jammed on the brakes. +Then the driver’s hands went into the air.</p> +<p>Stepping from the timber at the roadside behind +the truck, the second man leaped upon the machine. +The watcher grunted again as he saw that this man +was also masked. The driver was disarmed and +searched, then forced to clamber down from the truck +into the road, where the man in the slicker kept him +covered while the other quickly searched about the +seat and cab of the truck. Then the second man +released the brakes and dropped nimbly from the +machine which plunged backward down the steep +slope, crashed into the tree growth on one side of +the road, and overturned.</p> +<p>The boy mounted and led the other two horses +down the hogback in the scanty timber to the head +of the grade. There the man in the slicker and his +companion joined him, mounted, and the trio rode +quickly along the hogback in a southerly direction +and disappeared on a blind rail into the forest.</p> +<p>Rathburn rolled himself another cigarette with a +grin as he watched the truck driver stand for some +moments uncertainly in the road and then start rapidly +down the slope toward his disabled machine.</p> +<p>“C’mon, hoss,” said the erstwhile spectator, turning +his dun-colored mount again into the trail. “So +far’s I can make out, this is the only way down out +of these tall mountains to the east, so we might as +well get going. We ain’t got no business south or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +west. We’ll be just in time to get blamed for what’s +happened down there.”</p> +<p>Whatever there might be in the prospect, the rider +did not permit it to have any influence on his cheerful +mood. He drew in long breaths of the stimulating +air and sniffed joyously at the fragrance of the +murmuring forests which clothed the higher hills. +Far below the timber would dwindle, the ridges +would flatten into round knolls and lose their verdure; +then would come the dust and lava slopes, and +beyond––the desert.</p> +<p>A wistful light came into the horseman’s eyes. +“Home, Juniper, hoss,” he said softly. “We’ve just +got to have cactus an’ water holes an’ danged blistering +heat in ours; and I don’t care so much as the +faded label off an empty tomato can if it’s in California, +or Arizona, or Nevada, so long as it’s desert!”</p> +<p>The trail he was following wound tortuously +around ridges, through the timber, into ravines and +cañons; now treading close upon the bank of a swift-running +mountain stream in a narrow valley, and +again seeking the higher places where there were rocks +and fallen trees and other obstructions. An observer +would have gleaned at once that the rider was not +familiar with the trail or territory he traversed.</p> +<p>So it was past noon when he finally reached the +hogback where the outstanding event of the morning +had taken place. The rider looked back up toward +the divide and grinned as he rested his horse just +above the scene of the holdup.</p> +<p>“Don’t reckon they’d have heard me if I’d hollered, +or seen me if I’d waved,” he mused. “They picked +out a good spot for the dirty work,” he concluded, +looking about.</p> +<p>Shortly afterward, as he was staring down at the +tracks in the road, he smothered an exclamation. +Then he dismounted, picked up two small objects +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +from the dust at the point where the trio had started +on their get-away, examined them with a puzzled expression, +and thrust them into a pocket.</p> +<p>“Queer,” he ruminated; “mighty queer. If those +silly things had been laying there in the road before +the rumpus they’d have been tracked into the dust. +But they was on <i>top</i> of a perfectly good hoss track. +An’ it don’t look like there’s been anybody along here +since.”</p> +<p>He continued down the road, descending the steep +slope, and came to the overturned truck. At a glance +he saw it had been used for hauling supplies, doubtless +to the mine he had glimpsed on the slope of the +high mountain to southward. Several kegs of nails, +some hardware, and some sacks of cement were scattered +in the road. He remembered that the man +who had climbed on the truck had only searched the +driver and the cab. Anything he might have taken +must have been in a small package or it would have +been discernible even at that long distance.</p> +<p>“That outfit wasn’t after no mine supplies,” Rathburn +reflected as he finished his brief inspection and +again mounted. “An’ they wasn’t taking any chances +on smoking anybody up or being followed too quick. +Pretty work all around. An’ here’s the committee, +hoss!”</p> +<p>A touring car came careening around a turn in the +road and raced toward him. He turned his horse to +the side of the road and spoke to him as the animal, +plainly unfamiliar with motor cars, snorted and shied.</p> +<p>The car drew to a stop with a screeching of brakes. +The horseman raised his hands as he saw two rifles +leveled at him from the rear seat. There were five +men in the car besides the driver. One of the men, +who had been sitting in the front with the driver, +leaped from the machine and strode toward the rider.</p> +<p>“Calm that horse down an’ climb out of that saddle,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +he commanded. “If you make any motions +toward that gun you’re packing, it’ll make things +simpler, in a way.”</p> +<p>The rider slipped from the saddle with a broad +grin. “Right up to form,” he sang cheerfully, although +he kept his hands elevated while the other +took his gun. “My hoss’ll be calm enough now that +that danged thing is shut off. You must be a sheriff +to be flirting with the speed limit that way an’ forgetting +you’ve got a horn.”</p> +<p>“Where are you from an’ where was you going?” +demanded the other.</p> +<p>“I’m from up in the mountains, but I’d never got +where I was going if I hadn’t seen you first the way +you busted around that curve,” was the cool reply.</p> +<p>“Stranger,” was the next comment in a tone of +satisfaction. “Look here, friend, I’m Mannix, deputy +from High Point. You’ll sail smoother if you answer +my questions straight.”</p> +<p>The deputy motioned to two men in the car. +“Search him,” he ordered. Then he stood back, six-shooter +in hand.</p> +<p>The stranger built a cigarette while the men were +going through him. He lighted the weed and smiled +quizzically while they examined the meager contents +of the slicker pack on the rear of his saddle.</p> +<p>“See you’re packing a black slicker,” said Mannix, +pointing to the rough raincoat in which the pack was +wrapped.</p> +<p>“That’s in case of rain,” was the ready answer.</p> +<p>“What’s your name?” asked the deputy with a +frown.</p> +<p>“Rathburn.”</p> +<p>“Where was you heading?”</p> +<p>“I was aiming in a general eastern direction,” +Rathburn replied in a drawl. “Is there any law +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +against ridin’ hosses in this here part of the country?”</p> +<p>“Not at all,” replied the deputy heartily. “An’ +there’s no law against drivin’ automobiles or trucks. +But there’s a law against stoppin’ ’em with a gun.”</p> +<p>“So,” said Rathburn. “You stopped because you +saw my gun? An’ I’m to blame, for it? If I’d +known you were touchy about guns down here I’d +have worn mine in my shirt.”</p> +<p>One of the other men from the car had joined the +deputy. He was looking at Rathburn keenly. Mannix +turned to him.</p> +<p>“Look like him?” he asked.</p> +<p>The man nodded. “About the same size and +height.”</p> +<p>“This man was drivin’ a truck up here that was +stopped this morning,” said the deputy sternly to +Rathburn. “He says you size up to one of the men +that turned the trick––one of them that wore a black +slicker like yours.”</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded pleasantly. “Exactly,” he said +with a smile. “I happen to be in the country an’ +I’ve got a black slicker. There you are; everything +all proved up. An’ yet there was somebody once +told me it took brains to be a sheriff!”</p> +<p>There was a glint in Rathburn’s eyes as he uttered +the last sentence.</p> +<p>Instead of flying into a rage, Mannix laughed.</p> +<p>“Don’t kid yourself,” he said grimly. “You’re +not the man who held up this truck driver.”</p> +<p>He gave Rathburn back his gun, to the latter’s +surprise. Then he waved toward Rathburn’s horse.</p> +<p>“Go ahead,” he said, smiling. “General eastern +direction, wasn’t it? This road will take you clean +to the desert, if you want to go that far. So long.”</p> +<p>He led the others back to the car which started +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +off with a roar. It passed the truck and continued on +up the road.</p> +<p>Rathburn sat his horse and watched the automobile +out of sight. His expression was one of deep +perplexity.</p> +<p>“By all the rules of the game that fellow should +have held me as a suspect,” he soliloquized. “Now +he don’t know me from a hoss thief––or does he?”</p> +<p>He frowned and rode thoughtfully down the road +in the direction from which the automobile had come.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_THE_WELCOME' id='CHAPTER_XV_THE_WELCOME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>THE WELCOME</h3> +</div> +<p>The afternoon wore on as Rathburn followed the +road at an easy jog. He quickened his pace +somewhat when he passed through aisles in thick +timber, and, despite his careless attitude in the saddle, +he kept a sharp lookout at all times. For Rathburn +was carrying some gold and bills in a belt under +his shirt––which had been examined and returned +to him at the order of the deputy––and he had no +intention of being waylaid. Moreover, the man’s +natural bearing was one of constant alertness. He +rode for more than two hours without seeing any +one.</p> +<p>“Strange,” he observed aloud. “This road is used +a lot, too. Maybe the morning’s ceremonies has +scared all the travelers into the brush.”</p> +<p>But, as he turned the next bend in the road, he +saw a small cabin in a little clearing to the right.</p> +<p>Spurred by a desire to obtain some much-needed +information, he turned from the road into the clearing +and rode up to the cabin. He doffed his broad-brimmed +hat in haste as he saw a girl.</p> +<p>“Ma’am, I’m a stranger in these woods an’ I’m +looking for an honest man or woman to guide me +on my way,” he said with a flashing smile.</p> +<p>Instead of returning his smile with a gracious +word of greeting, the girl regarded him gravely out +of glowing, dark eyes.</p> +<p>“Pretty!” he thought to himself. “Limping lizards, +but she’s pretty!”</p> +<p>“Where are you from?” the girl asked soberly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></div> +<p>“From yonder mountains, an’ then some,” he +answered with a sweeping gesture.</p> +<p>“You rode down this morning?”</p> +<p>“I rode down this morning. Down from the toppermost +top of the divide with the wind singing in +my whiskers an’ the birds warbling in my ears.” +He laughed gayly, for he appreciated her puzzled +look. “I was wondering two things,” he continued +solemnly.</p> +<p>“What might they be?” she asked doubtfully.</p> +<p>“First: Why isn’t there more travel on this good +road?” he said. “I haven’t seen a soul except yourself +and a––a party in an automobile. Now on a +road like this–––”</p> +<p>“Where did you meet the automobile?” she asked +in a voice which he interpreted as eager.</p> +<p>“Two hours an’ some minutes back––and up. +Near a truck which had had some trouble in the +road. Perhaps you heard about it? Turned over +on its side in collapse after some free-thinking gents +turned their smoke wagons toward it.”</p> +<p>It was plain she was interested.</p> +<p>“Did––is the automobile still there?” she inquired +with a breathless catch in her voice.</p> +<p>“Oh, no. After some of the passengers had had +a little disrespectful conversation with me, it went on +up the road. Are they scarce around here, ma’am––automobiles?”</p> +<p>“Not exactly,” she replied with a frown. “They +truck ore and men and supplies to and from the mine +every day. The reason you’ve seen so few people +to-day is because it’s Sunday.”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” he said gallantly. “That answers +my first question. You remember, I was wondering +<i>two</i> things?”</p> +<p>Her lips trembled with a smile, but her eyes flashed +with suspicion.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div> +<p>“You will observe, ma’am, that I am not followed +by any pack horses or heavily-laden burros,” he went +on gravely, although his eyes sparkled with good +humor. “Nor is there anything much to speak of in +this slicker pack on my saddle. I need some new +smoking tobacco, some new shaving soap, some new +hair cut, a bath, a dinner, and a bed––after I’ve put +up my hoss.”</p> +<p>This time the girl laughed, and Rathburn was rewarded +by the flashing gleam of two rows of pearls +and eyes merry with mirth. But her reciprocating +mood of cheerfulness was quickly spent.</p> +<p>“You are only a mile and a half from High +Point,” she said hurriedly. “You can get what you +want there.”</p> +<p>She retreated into the doorway, and Rathburn saw +that the chance interview was at an end.</p> +<p>“<i>Gracias</i>, as they say in the desert country,” he +said, saluting as he turned away. “It means thanks, +ma’am.”</p> +<p>He looked back as he touched the mustang with +his steel and saw her looking after him with a +strange look in her eyes.</p> +<p>“That gal looks half like she was scared, hoss,” +he reflected. “I wonder, now, if she got me wrong. +Dang it! Maybe she thought I was trying to flirt +with her. Well, maybe I was.”</p> +<p>He thrust a hand in a pocket and fingered the two +objects he had picked up in the road at the scene of +the holdup. Then he pulled his hat a bit forward +over his eyes and increased his pace. The town, as +he had half expected, came suddenly into sight +around a sharp bend in the road.</p> +<p>High Point consisted of some two-score structures, +and only a cursory glance was needed to ascertain +that it was the source of supplies and rendez-vous +for entertainment of the several mines and all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +the miners and prospectors in the neighboring hills. +Several fairly good roads and many trails led into it, +and from it there was a main road of travel to the +railroad on the edge of the desert in the east.</p> +<p>Before he entered the dusty, single street, lined +with small buildings flaunting false fronts, Rathburn +recognized the signs of a foothill town where the +hand of authority rested but lightly.</p> +<p>He rode directly to the first hotel, the only two-story +structure in town, and around to the rear where +he put up his horse and left his saddle, chaps and +slicker pack in the care of the barn man.</p> +<p>He received instructions as to the location of the +best barber shop and speedily wended his way there. +He found Sunday was not observed in the barber +shop, nor in the resort which adjoined it.</p> +<p>“Any chance to get a bath here?” he asked one of +the two barbers with a twinkle in his gray eyes.</p> +<p>He expected a snort of astonishment and a sarcastic +reply.</p> +<p>“Sure. Want it first or after?”</p> +<p>Rathburn eyed the barber suspiciously. Was the +man poking fun at him? Well, he was not a stranger +to repartee.</p> +<p>“First or after what?” he asked, scowling.</p> +<p>“Your shave and hair cut.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed. “I’ll take it first––if you have +it. An’ if you have, I’ll say this is a first-class barber +shop.”</p> +<p>The barber led the way to a room in the rear of +the place with a pleased grin.</p> +<p>An hour or so later Rathburn, with the lower part +of his face a shade paler than the upper half, his +dark hair showing neatly under his broad-brimmed +hat, his black riding boots glistening, and a satisfied +smile on his face, sauntered out of the barber shop +into the resort next door.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></div> +<p>A man was lighting the hanging lamps, and Rathburn +looked about through a haze of tobacco smoke +at a cluster of crowded gaming tables, a short bar, +cigar counter, and at the motley throng which +jammed the small room.</p> +<p>He grinned as he read the sign over the cash +register:</p> +<p>FREE DRINKS TO-MORROW</p> +<p>“Swiped in broad daylight from the grand old +State of Texas,” he murmured aloud to himself.</p> +<p>Then he noticed a small restaurant in the rear of +the place, separated from the main room by a partition, +the upper part of which was glass.</p> +<p>He made his way back, passed through the door, +and took a seat at the counter which afforded him a +view of the resort through the glass. He ordered a +substantial meal and, while waiting for it to be +served, studied with calculating eyes the scene in the +next room.</p> +<p>The men were mostly of the hills––miners constituting +the majority. Of professional gamblers +there were many, and there was also a plentiful +sprinkling of that despicable species known as +“boosters” whose business it is to sit in at the games +in the interest of “the house;” to fleece the victims +who occupy the few remaining seats.</p> +<p>But now he saw a man who apparently was not a +miner, or a prospector, nor yet a member of the professional +gambling tribe. This was a tall man, very +dark, sinewy. He wore a gun.</p> +<p>At first Rathburn thought he might be a cow-puncher, +for he wore riding boots, and had something +of the air and bearing of a cowman; but he +finally decided that this classification was inaccurate. +An officer at one of the mines, perhaps; a forest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +ranger––no, he didn’t wear the regalia of a ranger––Rathburn +gave it up as his dinner was put before +him on the counter.</p> +<p>He fell to his meal eagerly, for he had had nothing +to eat since early morning when he had broken +camp high in the mountains to westward. Steak and +French “fries” began quickly to disappear, along with +many slices of bread and two cups of steaming coffee. +Then Rathburn looked up, and to his surprise +saw that the tall, dark man was standing near the +glass, studying him intently out of scowling, black +eyes.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at him coolly and steadily for a +few moments and resumed his meal. But the other +was inquisitive and Rathburn sensed, without again +looking up, that he was being watched. Was this +man, then, an aide of Mannix, the deputy? He +doubted it.</p> +<p>He finished his meal, paid his score with an added +cheery word for the counter jumper, rose, entered +the main room of the resort, and walked directly up +to the dark man who still was observing him.</p> +<p>“Was you thinking I was an old acquaintance of +yours?” he asked pleasantly.</p> +<p>The other’s eyes narrowed, and Rathburn thought +he detected a glow of recognition and satisfaction.</p> +<p>“Did you have your bath?” sneeringly inquired the +man.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s brows lifted. Then he smiled queerly. +“I sure did. Why? Did I maybe keep you waiting? +Was you next?”</p> +<p>The other’s eyes blazed with wrath. “Let me give +you a tip, my friend; you ain’t right well acquainted +in this here locality, are you?”</p> +<p>Rathburn now noted that they had attracted immediate +attention. The tall, dark man, then, was a +personage of importance. He noted another thing, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +too––rather, he realized it by instinct as well as by +certain mannerisms. The man before him knew how +to use the weapon which hung low on his right thigh.</p> +<p>“If you mean was I born here, or do I live here, +I’d say no,” Rathburn drawled; “but I happen to be +here at this precise time so I’d say I’m right well +acquainted with it.”</p> +<p>A hush had come over the place. Interested faces +were turned in their direction, and Rathburn sensed +an ominous tremor of keen expectancy. The fine +wrinkles at the corners of his eyes tightened a bit.</p> +<p>“This is a poor time for strangers to be hanging +around,” said the dark man in a loud voice. “The +Dixie Queen pay-roll has been taking wings too +often.”</p> +<p>The implication and the murmur from the spectators +was not lost upon Rathburn. His lips tightened +into a fine, white line.</p> +<p>“Whoever you are, you’ve got more mouth than +brains!” he said crisply in a voice which carried over +the room.</p> +<p>The effect of his words was electric. There was +a sharp intaking of breath from the spectators. The +dark man’s face froze, and his eyes darted red. His +right hand seemed to hang on the instant for the +swoop to his gun. Rathburn appeared to be smiling +queerly out of his eyes. Then came a sharp interruption.</p> +<p>“Just a minute, Carlisle!”</p> +<p>Rathburn recognized the voice of Mannix, and a +moment later the deputy stepped between them.</p> +<p>“What’s the idea?” he asked coolly.</p> +<p>“This gentleman you just called Carlisle seems to +have appointed himself a reception committee to welcome +me into the enterprising town of High Point,” +drawled Rathburn, with a laugh.</p> +<p>Mannix turned on Carlisle with a scowl, and Carlisle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +shrugged impatiently, his eyes still glaring balefully +at Rathburn.</p> +<p>The deputy again confronted Rathburn. “Had +your supper?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Best steak I’ve had in two months,” Rathburn +replied cheerfully.</p> +<p>“Horse taken care of?”</p> +<p>“First thing.” There was a note of derision in +Rathburn’s tone. “Service at the hotel barn is high +grade.”</p> +<p>Mannix’s eyes hardened before he spoke again. +He hesitated, but when his words came they were +clear-cut and stern.</p> +<p>“Then come with me an’ I’ll show you where to +sleep.”</p> +<p>“You mean in jail?” queried Rathburn.</p> +<p>Mannix nodded coldly.</p> +<p>“Sheriff,” said Rathburn, in a peculiar tone, addressing +the deputy but looking over his shoulder directly +into Carlisle’s eyes; “if there’s one thing I’m +noted for, it’s for being a good guesser!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_DIXIES_BOSS' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_DIXIES_BOSS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE DIXIE’S BOSS</h3> +</div> +<p>If Mannix expected any resistance from Rathburn +he soon found that none was to materialize. The +deputy, a short, rather stout man of perhaps thirty-nine, +with bronzed features, clear, brown eyes, and a +protruding jaw covered with a stubble of reddish-brown +beard, was nevertheless wary of his prisoner. +He had not yet obtained Rathburn’s gun, and he +recognized the unmistakable signs of a seasoned gunman +in the lounging but graceful postures of his +prisoner, in the way he moved his right hand, in the +alertness of his eye. He frowned, for Rathburn was +smiling. There was a quality to that smile which +was not lost upon the doughty officer.</p> +<p>“I take it you’ve got sense enough to come along +easylike,” he said, with just a hint of doubt in his +voice.</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve been known to show some sense, sheriff; +now that’s a fact.”</p> +<p>“I’ll have to ask you for your gun,” said the deputy +grimly.</p> +<p>“I’ve never been known to hand over my gun, +sheriff,” drawled Rathburn. “Now that’s another +fact.”</p> +<p>Again the tension in the room was high. Others +than Mannix, and probably Carlisle, had readily +discerned in the gray-eyed stranger a certain menacing +prowess which is much respected where weapons +are the rule in unexpected emergencies. The crowd +backed to the wall.</p> +<p>The deputy wet his lips, and his face grew a shade +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +paler. Then suddenly he went for his gun, as Rathburn +dropped, like a shot, to the floor. There came +the crack of Carlisle’s pistol and a laugh from Rathburn. +The deputy, gun in hand, stared at Rathburn +who rose quickly to his feet. Then he thought to +cover him. Rathburn raised his hands while Carlisle +returned his own smoking weapon to its holster. +Mannix turned and glared at Carlisle in perplexity.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what his game is, Mannix; but he +could have drawn down on you in a wink and shot +you in your tracks if he’d wanted to,” said Carlisle.</p> +<p>“So you were taking the play in your own hands,” +Mannix accused.</p> +<p>The deputy looked at Rathburn angrily. Then he +advanced and took the prisoner’s six-shooter from +him. He brought handcuffs out of his pockets.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face went white. “If what Carlisle +says is true, it doesn’t look as if I was trying to get +away, does it, sheriff?” he asked coldly.</p> +<p>Mannix was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, +come along,” he ordered, thrusting the steel bracelets +back into his pocket.</p> +<p>“I’ll go with you,” Carlisle volunteered.</p> +<p>“That’s up to you,” snapped out the deputy. “I +ain’t asking you to.”</p> +<p>The trio left the place as the spectators gazed after +them in wonder. There was a hum of excited conversation +as the deputy and his prisoner and Carlisle +passed through the door.</p> +<p>No word was spoken on the way to the small, two-room, +one-story structure which served as a detention +place for persons under arrest until they could be +transferred to the county jail in the town where the +railroad touched. Petty offenders served their sentences +there, however.</p> +<p>In the little front office of the jail, Rathburn +looked with interest at some posters on the walls. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +One in particular claimed his attention, and he read +it twice while the deputy was getting some keys and +calling to the jailer, who evidently was on the other +side of the barred door where the few cells and the +“tank” were.</p> +<p>This is what Rathburn read:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='center'><span style='font-weight:bold'>REWARD</span></p> +<p>Two thousand dollars will be paid for the +capture of the bandits who are responsible for +the robberies of Dixie Mine messengers in the +last few months.</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Dixie Milling & Mining Co</span>.,<span class='rindent4'> </span><br /> +George Sautee, Manager.<span class='rindent2'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Rathburn now knew exactly what Carlisle had +meant when he had referred to the Dixie pay-roll +taking wings. He had, however, suspected it. The +holdup of the truck driver also was explained. Rathburn +smiled. It was a peculiar ruse for the mines +manager to resort to. Could not the pay-roll be sent +to the mines under armed guard? Rathburn’s eyes +were dreamy when he looked at the deputy.</p> +<p>“All right, in you go,” said Mannix, as the jailer +unlocked the heavy, barred door from the inside.</p> +<p>He led Rathburn to one of the single cells, of +which there were six on one side of the jail room +proper.</p> +<p>“Maybe you’ll be ready to talk in the morning,” he +said, as he locked his prisoner in.</p> +<p>“Morning might be too late,” Rathburn observed, +taking tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket.</p> +<p>“What do you mean by that?” Mannix asked +sharply.</p> +<p>“I might change my mind.”</p> +<p>“About talking, eh? Well, we’ll find a way to +make you change it back again.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></div> +<p>“You’re a grateful cuss,” said Rathburn, grinning.</p> +<p>Mannix scowled. It was plain he was not sure of +his man, although he was trying to convince himself +that he was.</p> +<p>“I don’t get you,” he said growlingly.</p> +<p>“No? Didn’t you hear that fellow Carlisle say I +saved your life by not drawing?”</p> +<p>“He’d have got you if you’d tried to draw. That’s +what he thought you was going to do. You saved +your skin by grabbing the floor.”</p> +<p>Rathburn wet the paper of his cigarette and sealed +the end. “I’m wondering,” he mused, as he snapped +a match into flame, with a thumb nail and lit the +weed.</p> +<p>“It’s about time,” said the deputy grimly.</p> +<p>“I’m wondering,” said Rathburn, in a soft voice, +exhaling a thin streamer of smoke, “if he’d have got +me.”</p> +<p>Mannix grunted, looked at him curiously, and then +turned abruptly on his heel and left. Rathburn could +not see the door, but he heard the big key grate in +the lock, and then the jail room echoed to the clang +of hard metal and the door swung shut again.</p> +<p>Rathburn sat down on the bunk which was to serve +as his bed. He smoked his brown-paper cigarette +slowly and with great relish while he stared, not +through the bars to where the dim light of a +lamp showed, but straight at the opposite steel wall +of his cell. His eyes were thoughtful, dreamy, +his brow was puckered.</p> +<p>“An’ there’s that,” he muttered as he threw away +the stub of his smoke and began to roll another. +“Somebody’s been playing the Dixie Queen for a +meal ticket. That sign said ‘robberies.’ That means +more’n one. The truck driver was the last. Two +thousand reward. An’ me headed for the desert +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +where I belong. What stopped me? I reckon I +know.”</p> +<p>He smiled grimly as he remembered the insolent +challenge in Carlisle’s eyes and the reference to the +bath.</p> +<p>After a time Rathburn stretched out on the bunk, +pulled his hat over his face, and dozed.</p> +<p>He sat up with a catlike movement as a persistent +tapping on the bars of his cell reached his ears. +Blinking in the half light he saw Carlisle’s dark +features.</p> +<p>“Well, now’s your chance to smoke me up good +an’ plenty an’ get away with it,” said Rathburn +cheerfully. “I’m shy my gun which the sheriff has +borrowed.”</p> +<p>“You figure he’s just borrowed it?” sneeringly +inquired Carlisle.</p> +<p>Rathburn rose and surveyed his visitor. “I +reckon I’ve got to tolerate you,” he drawled. “I +can’t pick my company in here.”</p> +<p>“I’ve got your number,” snarlingly replied Carlisle +in a low voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn sauntered close to the bars, rolling a +cigarette.</p> +<p>“If you have, Carlisle, you’ve got a winning +number,” he said evenly.</p> +<p>“Whatever your play is here, I dunno,” said +Carlisle; “but you won’t get away with it as easy +as you did over the range in Dry Lake.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes never flickered as he coolly lit +his cigarette with a steady hand. “You’re plumb +full of information, eh, Carlisle?”</p> +<p>“I was over there an’ heard about how you stuck +up that joint an’ tried to blame it on some kid +by the name of Lamy,” said Carlisle, watching +Rathburn closely.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div> +<p>“You sure that was the way of it?” asked Rathburn +casually.</p> +<p>“No,” replied the other. “I know the kid stuck +up the joint an’ you took the blame to keep him +under cover. I don’t know your reasons, but I +guess you don’t want the facts known. You broke +jail. They ain’t forgot <i>that</i> over in Dry Lake. +There’s a reward out for you over there, an I +wouldn’t be surprised if there was some money on +your head in Arizona, Coyote!”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes were points of red between narrowed +lids.</p> +<p>“The Coyote!” said Carlisle in a hoarse voice of +triumph. “An’ the way it looks I’m the only one +hereabouts that knows it.”</p> +<p>“I told you you was plumb full of information,” +said Rathburn.</p> +<p>“The Coyote has a bit of a record, they tell me,” +Carlisle leered. “There’s more’n one sheriff would +pay a pretty price to get him safe, eh?”</p> +<p>“Just what’s your idea in telling <i>me</i> all this, +Carlisle; why don’t you tell what you know to +Mannix, say?”</p> +<p>“Maybe I’m just teasing you along.”</p> +<p>“Not a chance, Carlisle. I know your breed.”</p> +<p>The other’s face darkened, and his eyes glittered +as he peered in through the bars.</p> +<p>“What’s <i>your</i> breed?” he asked sneeringly.</p> +<p>“I don’t have to tell you that, Carlisle. You +<i>know</i>!” said Rathburn with a taunting laugh.</p> +<p>Carlisle struggled with his anger for a brief +spell. Then he shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“I ain’t going to poke at you in a cage,” he said +in a more civil tone; “an’ I ain’t going to tell anybody +what I know. Remember that.”</p> +<p>“I ain’t the forgetting kind,” Rathburn flung after +him as he walked swiftly away.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div> +<p>Again Rathburn sat on the edge of the bunk +and smoked and thought. After a time he went to +sleep. The opening of his cell door woke him. It +was Mannix.</p> +<p>“Come to let me out, sheriff?” inquired Rathburn +sleepily.</p> +<p>The deputy looked at him keenly, opened the +cage, and motioned to him to follow. Rathburn +went with him out into the little office. It was +broad day. Mannix picked up a pistol from his +desk and extended it to Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Here’s your gun, Rathburn. You can go,” he +said, pressing his lips close together.</p> +<p>“Well, now, sheriff, that’s right kind of you,” +Rathburn drawled, concealing his astonishment.</p> +<p>“Don’t thank me,” snapped out Mannix. “This +gentleman asked me to set you loose.”</p> +<p>For the first time Rathburn looked squarely at +the other man in the office––a thin man, with a +cropped mustache, beady eyes, and a narrow face.</p> +<p>The man was regarding him intently, and there +seemed to be an amused expression in his eyes. +He turned away from Rathburn’s gaze.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of +meeting the gentleman,” said Rathburn agreeably.</p> +<p>“That’s George Sautee, manager of the Dixie +Queen,” said the deputy with a shrug.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_A_COMMISSION' id='CHAPTER_XVII_A_COMMISSION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>A COMMISSION</h3> +</div> +<p>Sautee rose and extended his hand with an +affable smile. “Will you come to breakfast +with me, Mr. Rathburn?”</p> +<p>Rathburn took the hand with a curious side glance +at Mannix. “I’m powerful hungry,” he confessed; +“an’ I don’t reckon I’d be showing the best of +manners if I balked at havin’ breakfast with the +man that got me out of jail.”</p> +<p>“Quite right,” admitted Sautee, winking at the +deputy. “Well, perhaps I have my reasons. All +right, Rathburn, let’s be going.”</p> +<p>They walked out of the jail, and as they progressed +up the street they were the cynosure of +many wondering pairs of eyes; for the report had +spread that the stranger who had been jailed was +the bandit who had made away with the Dixie +Queen pay-roll on several occasions, and that he +was a gun fighter and a killer.</p> +<p>They entered a restaurant just below the hotel, +and Sautee led the way to a booth where they were +assured comparative privacy.</p> +<p>“Ham an’ eggs,” said Rathburn shortly when the +waiter entered.</p> +<p>Sautee smiled again. He was covertly inspecting +the man across the table from him and evidently +what he saw caused him to arrive at a satisfactory +conclusion.</p> +<p>He gave his order with a nod and a mild flourish +of the hand, indicating that he would take the +same.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></div> +<p>“Oh––waiter,” called Rathburn. “Four eggs with +mine.”</p> +<p>Sautee laughed. It was a peculiar laugh in that +it seemed to convey little mirth. It was perfunctory.</p> +<p>He gazed at Rathburn quizzically. “They tell +me you’re a gunman,” he said in a low voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s brows shot up. “They? Who’s they?”</p> +<p>Sautee waved a hand impatiently. “I am the +manager of the Dixie Queen. I have been around +a bit, and I have eyes. I can see. I know the +signals. I witnessed the play in the Red Feather last +night.”</p> +<p>“That ain’t a bad name for the place,” Rathburn +mused.</p> +<p>“Just what do you suppose was my object in +getting you out of jail?” Sautee asked seriously, +leaning over the table and looking at Rathburn +searchingly. “You said last night you were a good +guesser.”</p> +<p>“But I didn’t say I was good at riddles,” drawled +Rathburn.</p> +<p>Sautee leaned back. For a moment there was +a gleam of admiration in his eyes. Then they +narrowed slightly.</p> +<p>“The Dixie Queen has been robbed four times +within the last year,” he said soberly. “That represents +considerable money. Yesterday I resorted to +a ruse and sent the money up with a truck driver, +but whoever is doing this thing must have got +wise somehow, for the truck driver was held up, +as you know, and the money taken.”</p> +<p>“Why not put an armed guard on that truck?” +asked Rathburn with a yawn.</p> +<p>“I had full confidence in that ruse, and I knew +the man who drove the truck could be trusted. +Besides, he didn’t know what was inside the package.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div> +<p>“How much did they get?” asked Rathburn +sharply.</p> +<p>“Twenty-two thousand eight hundred and seventy +dollars in cash.”</p> +<p>Rathburn stared at the mine manager and whistled +softly. “What’s the sense in sending it up there +at all?” he asked suddenly. “Why not pay off +down here in town?”</p> +<p>Sautee sighed with an air of resignation. “That’s +been argued several times,” he complained. “The +men demand their pay in cash. They want it at +the mine, for more than half of them have refused +to come down here for it. It is twenty-nine miles +up there to the mine, and it would take all the +trucks we’ve got and two days to bring them down +here and take them back. Besides, if we got them +down here it would be a week before we could +get half of them back up there and at work again.”</p> +<p>“But why won’t they take checks?” Rathburn +demanded.</p> +<p>“It would be the same proposition,” Sautee explained. +“There is a little village up there––pool +room, soft-drink parlor, lunch room, store, and all +that––and the men, or a large number of them, +would want their checks cashed to make purchases +and for spending money, and the cash would have +to be transported so the business places could cash +the checks. Then, there’s another reason. All the +mines over on this side of the mountains, clear +down into the desert, have always paid in cash. +This is an old district, and the matter of getting +paid in cash has become a tradition. That’s what +the company is up against. We can refuse to do +it, but all the other mines do it, and the Dixie +Queen would soon have the reputation of being the +only mine in the district that didn’t pay in cash. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +The tradition is handed down from the old days +when men were paid in gold. There was a time +when a miner wouldn’t take paper money in this +country!”</p> +<p>The waiter entered with the breakfast dishes and +they began to eat.</p> +<p>“Your mine owned by a stock company?” Rathburn +inquired.</p> +<p>“Certainly,” replied Sautee. “All the mines here +are. What mine isn’t?”</p> +<p>Rathburn ignored the question. “Stockholders live +aroun’ here?” he asked, between mouthfuls.</p> +<p>“Oh––no, that is, not many,” replied Sautee with +a quick glance at his questioner. “This district is +pretty well worked out. Most of our stockholders +live in the Middle West and the East.” He winked +at Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Any other mines been robbed?” Rathburn persisted.</p> +<p>“No, that’s the funny part of it. Still––no, it <i>isn’t</i> +funny. We’re working on the largest scale, and +our pay-roll is, naturally, the largest. It furnishes +the biggest incentive. In addition, the Dixie Queen +is the farthest out from town, and there are many +excellent spots for a holdup between town and +the mine. Oh, don’t look skeptical. I’ve tried +trusted messengers by roundabout trails, and guards +and all that. They even held up a convoy on one +occasion. I’ve set traps. I’ve done everything. +But now I’ve a new idea, and I believe it’ll work.”</p> +<p>He finished his breakfast and stared steadily at +Rathburn who didn’t look up, but leisurely drank +a second cup of coffee. Sautee noted the slim, +tapered right hand of the man across the table from +him, the clear, gray eyes, the unmistakable poise +of a man who is absolutely and utterly confident +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +and sure of himself. The mine manager’s eyes +glowed eagerly.</p> +<p>“Yes?” asked Rathburn calmly.</p> +<p>“I’m going to hire, or, rather, I’m going to <i>try</i> +to hire a man I believe is just as tough, just as +clever, just as quick with his gun as the men +who’ve been robbing the Dixie Queen. I’m going +to hire him to carry the money to the mine!”</p> +<p>“So <i>that’s</i> why you got me out of jail,” said Rathburn, +drawing the inevitable tobacco and papers from +his shirt pocket.</p> +<p>“Yes!” whispered Sautee eagerly. “I want you for +the job!”</p> +<p>“You ain’t forgetting that I was suspected of +that last job, are you? That’s why I went to +jail, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t have to go to jail unless you wanted +to. You didn’t have to stop in this town and +invite arrest. Mannix let you go up there yesterday +because he felt sure he could get you when he +wanted you again, and he figured you’d make some +break that would give him a clew to your pals, +if you had any. You went to jail because you +knew he didn’t have anything on you.”</p> +<p>Sautee grinned in triumph.</p> +<p>“How do you know I won’t beat it with the +money?” asked Rathburn.</p> +<p>“I don’t,” said Sautee quickly. “But I’m taking +a chance on it that you won’t. I don’t care who +you are, what you are now, or what you’ve been; +I don’t care if you’re an outlaw! I figure, Rathburn, +that if I come out square and trust you +with this mission and depend upon you to carry +it out, that you’ll play square with me. That’s what +I’m banking on––your own sense of squareness. +You’ve got it, for I can see it in your eyes.”</p> +<p>“Who’s Carlisle?” Rathburn asked dryly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div> +<p>Sautee frowned. “He’s a––well, I guess you’d +call him a sort of adventurer. I knew him down +in Arizona. He follows the camps when they’re +good, and this one happens to be good right now, +for we’re improving the property. That’s how he +happened to come up here about a year ago. Then, +when the first robbery occurred, I engaged him as +a sort of special agent. He didn’t make any progress, +so I let him go. Since then he’s been out and in, +gambling, prospecting, anything––he’s a fast man +with his gun, and he has some claims here which +he is developing on a small scale and trying to sell.”</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded but made no comment.</p> +<p>“Will you take the job?” Sautee asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“What do you want me to do?”</p> +<p>“I want you to carry a sum of money to the +mine. I’m not going to tell you how much, but +it will be considerable. The money which was +stolen yesterday was for the pay-off to-day. I’ve +got to get the cash for the men up there quick. +They all know about the holdup, so there’s no +grumbling––yet. But there will be if they don’t +have their money pretty quick. We want to pay +off to-morrow. I could go with a guard, but to +tell you the truth, Rathburn, it’s got to a point +where I can’t trust a soul.”</p> +<p>“Why not Mannix?” asked Rathburn sharply.</p> +<p>Sautee shook his head; his beady, black eyes +glowed, and he stroked his chin.</p> +<p>“There’s another sorrowful point,” he explained. +“I tell you we’re up against it here, Rathburn. The +Dixie Queen people and most of the other mines +are fighting the present county administration as a +matter of policy. They want certain changes, and––well, +keep this to yourself––privileges. Mannix has +been instructed by the sheriff of this county that he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +is not here to act as a guard for the Dixie Queen. +See?”</p> +<p>Rathburn frowned and built another cigarette.</p> +<p>“If you’ll carry this package of money up to +the Dixie Queen for me, Rathburn, I’ll pay you five +hundred dollars. Then, if you want to stay and +act as our messenger right along, we’ll make a +deal. But I’d like to have you do this this time––make +this one trip, anyway, I mean. They may +try to stop you. If they do I don’t believe they +can get away with it. I’m banking on your ability +to get through, and I think the proposition will +appeal to you in a sporting way if for no other +reason. Will you do it?” Sautee’s eyes were eager.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Rathburn shortly, tossing away his +cigarette.</p> +<p>Sautee held out his hand. “Go to the hotel and +engage a room,” he instructed. “Be in your room +at nine o’clock to-night. Do not tell any one of +our deal. I’ll get your room number from the +register. I’ll bring the package of money to you +between nine o’clock and midnight. Now, Rathburn, +maybe I’m mistaken in you; but I go a whole +lot by what I see in a man’s eyes. You may have a +hard record, but I’m staking my faith in men +on you!”</p> +<p>“I’ll be there,” Rathburn promised.</p> +<p>He left Sautee at the entrance to the restaurant +and strolled around the hotel barn to see that his +horse was being taken care of properly. He found +that the barn man was indeed looking after the +dun in excellent shape. Rathburn spent a short +time with his mount, petting him and rubbing his +glossy coat with his hands. Then he took his slicker +pack and started for the hotel.</p> +<p>As he reached the street he saw a girl on a +horse talking with a man on the sidewalk. The girl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +was leaning over, and the man evidently was delivering +a harangue. He was gesticulating wildly, and +Rathburn could see that the girl was cowering. He +paused on the hotel porch as the man stepped away +from the horse and looked his way. He recognized +Carlisle.</p> +<p>Then the girl rode down the street and Rathburn +started with surprise as he saw she was the girl +from the cabin up the road who had directed him +to town the day before. He remembered the two +objects he had picked up in the road after the +holdup and felt in his pocket to make sure they +were there. Then he entered the hotel.</p> +<p>“Have you a room?” he asked the clerk pleasantly.</p> +<p>“Yes. More rooms than anything else to-day +since the Sunday crowd’s gone.”</p> +<p>Rathburn wrote his name upon the register.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_IN_THE_NIGHT' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_IN_THE_NIGHT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>IN THE NIGHT</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn avoided the Red Feather resort during +the morning. Instead of walking about the +streets or sitting in the hotel lobby or his room, +he cultivated the acquaintance of the barn man, +and because he knew horses––<i>all</i> about horses––he +soon had the man’s attention and respect.</p> +<p>Although Rathburn suspected that he already had +a reputation in the town, he did not know that +Carlisle was steadily adding to that reputation through +the medium of veiled hints dropped here and there +until a majority of the population was convinced +that a desperate man was in their midst, and that +Mannix had permitted him to go free for certain +secret reasons.</p> +<p>Thus a web of mystery and suspicion was cleverly +woven about Rathburn’s movements.</p> +<p>It was not until afternoon, however, that Rathburn +began to realize on his intimacy with the +barn man. Then they began to talk of trails, and +for more than an hour the barn man, caught in +the spell of Rathburn’s personality, divulged the +secret of the trails leading to and from the Dixie +Queen.</p> +<p>“The best trail, an’ the straightest, if you should +ever want to go up there an’ look at the mine +like you say,” said the barn man, “hits into the +timber behind the first cabin to the left above town.”</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded smilingly. It was the cabin +where he had first seen the girl.</p> +<p>“It’s ’bout twenty-nine miles to the mine by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +road,” the man explained; “but that trail will take +you there in less’n twenty. Well, maybe twenty or +twenty-one. Or you can go up the road till you +get to the big hogback––that’s where they held up +the truck driver yesterday––and cut straight up the +hill from the south end.”</p> +<p>“I guess those are the best trails from what you +say,” was Rathburn’s yawning comment.</p> +<p>“Them’s the best,” the other added. “There’s +another trail going out below town that follows +southeast along a big ridge, but that trail’s as far +as the road. When you goin’ up?”</p> +<p>“I dunno,” replied Rathburn noncommittally. “Say, +I guess I know where that cabin is on the left +side of the road going up. I stopped at a cabin +up there coming down an’ asked a gal how far it +was to town–––”</p> +<p>“That’s it,” said the barn man. “That’s the one. +Trail starts right back of that cabin.”</p> +<p>Rathburn yawned again. “Smart-lookin’ gal,” he +observed, digging for his tobacco and papers. “Who +is she?”</p> +<p>“That’s Joe Carlisle’s sister. Anyway, he says +she is. There’s been some talk. Carlisle lives there +when he ain’t out in the hills or on a gamblin’ +trip to some other town.”</p> +<p>“I see. Well, old-timer, I ain’t hung on the +feed bag since morning, an’ I’m going on a still +hunt for some grub.”</p> +<p>Rathburn went to the Red Feather for his dinner. +He was thoughtful through the meal and kept an +eye out for Carlisle, but didn’t see him. During +the remainder of the afternoon he hung about the +Red Feather and other resorts, but did not see +Carlisle.</p> +<p>That evening, as he was returning to the hotel, +he met Mannix. The deputy looked at him with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +a scowl in which there was a mixture of curiosity. +Rathburn suddenly remembered what Sautee had +said about his company being on the outs with the +county administration. If such was the case, Rathburn +reflected, how did it come that Sautee had +been able to effect his release so easily?</p> +<p>He stopped as he drew alongside of the deputy. +“This man Sautee,” he drawled, looking Mannix +square in the eye; “he must have a good drag +with the county seat, eh?”</p> +<p>The deputy’s scowl deepened. “He didn’t get +you out by word of mouth alone,” he said sharply. +“I haven’t got anything on you, Rathburn––yet.”</p> +<p>Rathburn smiled. “I reckon you’re a sheriff after +my own heart,” he said enigmatically, and moved on.</p> +<p>Mannix looked back after him for a moment, +then continued on his way.</p> +<p>Rathburn had dinner that night at the hotel, and +it was during the course of a number of pleasantries +with the waitress, who thought he was looking for +work, that he ascertained that Sautee had a little +two-room building at the lower end of the street, +the front half of which served as an office and the +rear half as living quarters.</p> +<p>At nine o’clock he went to his room. He lighted +the oil lamp, pulled down the window shade, sat +down in a chair to one side of the door to wait. +An hour passed with no sound save occasional footfalls +in the hall and the drone of the wind in the +trees outside.</p> +<p>Another hour had nearly been consumed in waiting +when Rathburn heard some one coming up the stairs. +The footfalls were soft, catlike. He could hardly +hear them, and it was this fact which made him +instantly alert. The footfalls now sounded in the +hallway. They were nearer his room. He rose; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +stepped close to the side of the door. Then came +a soft knock.</p> +<p>Rathburn suddenly opened the door, and Sautee +started back, blinking his eyes. The mines manager +peered about the room, then entered swiftly.</p> +<p>“You rather startled me,” he accused with a +forced smile.</p> +<p>Rathburn closed the door softly and turned the +key in the lock.</p> +<p>“I’m just taking natural precautions,” he explained.</p> +<p>Sautee shook his head and put a finger to his +lips. “Not so loud,” he warned. “These walls”––he +waved a hand about––“are all ears.”</p> +<p>He took a package from beneath his coat and +handed it to Rathburn. “Put it in your shirt,” he +instructed. “Deliver it to the office at the mine +and take the bookkeeper’s receipt. Then report to +my office here in town. I wish you luck, and I +want you to know that I have the utmost confidence +in you.”</p> +<p>“You keep such large sums on hand all the time?” +Rathburn asked, putting the package in his shirt. +He was mindful of the fact that a similar sum +had been stolen the day before from the truck +driver.</p> +<p>“There’s a private bank here,” answered Sautee +frowningly. “He let me have it, but he’s already +sent to the county seat for more cash which will +come by auto express to-morrow, probably. Anyway, +the bank’ll get most of this back, so their +cash won’t be short long.”</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded. “Let’s see,” he suggested. +“There was a little item of five hundred between +us for my serving––am I right?”</p> +<p>“There is such an item,” snapped out Sautee; +“when you’ve delivered.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></div> +<p>“Of course,” replied Rathburn. “I couldn’t expect +to be paid in advance. I’m to deliver the money +at the mine and report to you for the five hundred.”</p> +<p>“Exactly,” said Sautee. “Which way you figure +on going up?” he asked curiously.</p> +<p>“Don’t know much about the trails,” Rathburn +answered. “An’ it mightn’t attract suspicion if I +just struck right out on the road.”</p> +<p>Sautee shrugged. “Well, that’s up to you,” he +said. “Keep your eye peeled. I don’t think any +one knows I drew that money from the bank, but +I didn’t think any one knew I stuck that package +under the truck driver’s seat, either.”</p> +<p>He turned toward the door.</p> +<p>“There’s just one other little matter,” said Rathburn +softly. “You see nobody knows anything about +this deal but you an’ me. Maybe it would be best +for my own protection that you scribbled something +on a piece of paper to show what our arrangement +is.”</p> +<p>Sautee scowled again, hesitated, then smiled. He +drew an envelope from a pocket, extracted its contents, +tore it open at each end, and wrote on the +blank side:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Due Rathburn five hundred dollars when he +has delivered package intrusted to him by me +at the Dixie Queen mine office.</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>George Sautee.</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Rathburn nodded in satisfaction as he took the +slip of paper and tucked it into his shirt pocket. +The wording of the note was a bit complicated, but +it bore Sautee’s signature. It was at least evidence +that there <i>had</i> been an agreement.</p> +<p>“Everything set?” asked Sautee.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></div> +<p>“All cinched up an’ ready to go,” replied Rathburn.</p> +<p>“How soon you going to start?” asked Sautee +as he unlocked the door.</p> +<p>“By midnight,” Rathburn answered.</p> +<p>Sautee held out his hand before he slipped out of +the door and was gone.</p> +<p>Rathburn quickly busied himself with his slicker +pack. He took out a gun which he changed for the +gun in his holster. Then he stuck his regular gun +into his waistband on the left. He took out the +package and examined it. It was sealed at each +end. Then Rathburn did a queer thing. He cut +the string and paper near the seals and removed +the small box within. He next emptied the box +of its paper-wrapped contents and substituted the +first thing of equal weight which he could lay his +hands on––a moleskin glove which was among the +things in the slicker pack. He replaced the box +in its wrappings and drew from one of his pockets +a small bottle of glue.</p> +<p>“First time I ever stole anything from a hotel +desk,” he muttered to himself as he glued the paper +back into place; “but I sure had the proper hunch +when I grabbed this.”</p> +<p>Next he retied the string, adding a piece from +his slicker pack to offset the shortness where it had +been cut. When he had finished the package looked +exactly as it had in the first place. It would take +a close inspection to learn that it had been tampered +with. The original contents of the package he +thrust into his hat and pulled the hat well down +on his head.</p> +<p>Then he extinguished the light and made his +way downstairs and out the lobby into the street. +He went quickly around to the barn where he astonished +the man in charge by saddling his horse +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +and riding out without a word of explanation other +than to toss him a five-dollar bill from the saddle.</p> +<p>“See you again to-morrow––maybe,” he called, +grinning, as he rode into the night.</p> +<p>When Rathburn had passed behind the hotel +and several other buildings on the same side of +the street and gained the road leading westward +toward the hogback, a slim shadow darted out +of the trees, mounted a horse concealed some distance +behind the barn, and slipped into a worn trail +which nearly paralleled the road going west.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_QUICK_TURNS' id='CHAPTER_XIX_QUICK_TURNS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>QUICK TURNS</h3> +</div> +<p>As he rode westward along the road at a swinging +lope, Rathburn made no apparent effort to +conceal his movements. The night sky was bright +with stars, and, although the moon was not up, +the road was clearly outlined through the marching +stands of timber as he swung upward past the cabin +where he had met the girl said to be Carlisle’s sister.</p> +<p>Rathburn could not forget the look on the girl’s +face when she had asked him about the activities +of the officer in the automobile. Nor could he +forget the expression in her eyes during her altercation +with Carlisle that day.</p> +<p>After he had passed the cabin, Rathburn checked +his pace and proceeded more slowly up the long +stretches of road to the hogback. On the hogback +he began to take advantage of the screen of timber +on the lower side of the road, and to ride more +cautiously. However, to any one who might have +been watching, his movements still would have been +easily discernible, and it would have appeared that +he wasn’t quite sure of himself. Twice he turned +off at what he appeared to think was the beginning +of a trail, and both times he again turned back +to the road.</p> +<p>Then, as he reached the south end of the hogback +where the trail left the road and cut straight +across to the mine, two horsemen broke from the +timber, and Rathburn reined in his horse as the +guns which covered him glinted.</p> +<p>The taller of the pair of night riders kept him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +covered with two guns while the other rode in +close and jerked the weapon from his holster.</p> +<p>“C’mon with the package!” said this man in a +hoarse voice. “We won’t take a chance on you. +If you make any kind of a break you’ll get it +where it’ll do most good.”</p> +<p>There was a sneering inflection in the voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s hand, as it moved downward toward +his shirt, hovered an instant above where his good +gun was stuck in his waistband, out of sight under +the skirt of his coat; then it moved to the open shirt +at his throat. He drew out the package and held +it out toward the other.</p> +<p>The man closed in and snatched the package, +glancing at it in the dim starlight.</p> +<p>“Now back the way you came an’ don’t invite no +shootin’!” was the brief command.</p> +<p>Rathburn whirled his horse and drove in his +spurs. As he fled from the scene a harsh laugh +came to his ears from behind. Then utter silence +save for the pounding of his horse’s hoofs in the +hard road back down the hogback.</p> +<p>“Jog along, hoss,” Rathburn crooned as he sped +down the long slopes toward town; “maybe we’re +peggin’ things wrong, an’ if it turns out that way +we’ve a powerful long ways to go.”</p> +<p>It lacked a few minutes of being two hours +after midnight when he reached the Carlisle cabin. +There he reined in his horse, dismounted in the +shadow of the timber, and crept to a window. The +moon had risen and was bathing the hills in a +ghostly light in which every object stood out clear-cut +and easily distinguishable. Rathburn peered into +the two front windows, but could see nothing. Then, +from a side window into which the moonlight filtered, +he made out a bedroom. It was not occupied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +From the other side of the cabin he saw another +bedroom, and it, too, was unoccupied.</p> +<p>“Nobody home,” he muttered cheerfully as he ran +for his horse.</p> +<p>In another minute he was again speeding down +the road toward town. He slacked his pace as he +reached the upper end of the short main street. +The street was dark save for two beams of yellow +light, one of which shone from a window of the +jail office and the other from the front of the +Red Feather resort.</p> +<p>He walked his horse down the street past the +jail and the resort and almost to the end of the +line of buildings where he arrived before the small, +one-story, two-room structure which was Sautee’s +office and abode.</p> +<p>The place was dark. Rathburn dismounted and +led his horse into the dark shadow at the side of +the little building. Then he went around to the +front, and, drawing his gun from his waistband, he +rapped smartly on the door with its butt and dropped +it into his holster.</p> +<p>There was no movement within, and Rathburn +rapped again and tried the door. It was locked.</p> +<p>A match flared into flame somewhere beyond the +front room. A glow of light followed. Rathburn, +looking through the front window, saw a door open +wide and made out the form of Sautee as the +mines manager came forward to the front door.</p> +<p>“Who is it?” Sautee called cautiously.</p> +<p>“Rathburn.”</p> +<p>After a moment a key turned in the lock and +the door opened part way. Rathburn pushed his +way in.</p> +<p>“Why––didn’t you <i>go</i>?” asked Sautee in excited +tones.</p> +<p>“Lock the door an’ come in the other room,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +whispered Rathburn. “I’ve got something to tell +you that’ll knock you for a goal.”</p> +<p>Sautee hurriedly locked the door, and, as he +turned to lead the way into the other room, Rathburn +deftly extracted the key.</p> +<p>In the light from the lamp in the bedroom Sautee +swung on his visitor and looked at him keenly. +The mines manager was fully dressed, and the +bed was made. It was evident that he had merely +dozed on top of the covers with his clothes on. +These things Rathburn noted even as Sautee surveyed +him with a frown.</p> +<p>“Well, what is it?” snapped out Sautee.</p> +<p>Rathburn blinked in the light. “I––I was held +up,” he said sheepishly.</p> +<p>The mines manager stared. First he stared into +Rathburn’s eyes, and then he glanced to the gun +in the holster on his thigh.</p> +<p>“Couldn’t have been very much afraid of you,” he +said sneeringly. “I see they didn’t even take your +gun.”</p> +<p>“It all come from my not knowin’ enough about +the trails, I guess,” Rathburn explained lamely. +“Got me on the far end of the hogback. Two of +’em. Had their guns in my face before I knew it. +Couldn’t have drawed if I wanted to. They’d have +shot me out of the saddle in a wink. All I could +do was hand over the package an’ beat it.”</p> +<p>“And they said you were a gunman,” said Sautee +in derision. “How do <i>I</i> know anybody stopped you +and robbed you? Maybe you’ve come back here +with that story to cover up the theft of the money. +I guess I made a mistake in ever thinking of trusting +a man of your caliber.”</p> +<p>“I was afraid of that,” said Rathburn. “I was +afraid if anything like this was to happen you +might think I was lying and was taking the money +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +myself. But I fooled ’em, Mr. Sautee,” he finished +in triumph.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” Sautee asked sharply.</p> +<p>“Look here,” cried Rathburn excitedly as he took +off his hat and recovered the package he had put +in it before starting toward the mine.</p> +<p>He held up the package. “I was scared they +might get wise an’ get the drop on me,” he said. +“So I opened the package an’ took out what was in +it and put it in my hat. They got the original +package, all right, but it was stuffed with an old +glove of mine. Here’s the money. I didn’t go +right on to the mine for fear they’d find out their +mistake an’ pot me from the timber. This is the +money you gave me, minus the seals an’ the string +an’ box. I wanted you to see that I was on the +square.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s eyes were bulging. “Give me that,” he +gulped out.</p> +<p>“Why––don’t you want me to take it to the mine?” +asked Rathburn in surprise.</p> +<p>“Hand that over,” ordered Sautee, reaching for +the package.</p> +<p>Rathburn drew away. “All right, Mr. Sautee,” +he said in a complaining voice. “If you don’t want +me to go through with the job you can back down, +I guess. We’ll just make sure the money’s here, +though.”</p> +<p>Sautee leaped toward him.</p> +<p>“Give me that package!” he cried angrily. “Do +you hear me?”</p> +<p>Rathburn warded him off, keeping the package +at arm’s length away.</p> +<p>“Just hold your horses,” he said coldly. “I +reckon I know what I’m doing. You don’t trust +me now, an’ I ain’t goin’ to take any chances with +you. I’m goin’ to open this an’ show you that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +the money’s there, that’s all; I’m goin’ to show you +that I’m giving you back what you gave me all +fair an’ square.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s face was ashen. His voice trembled as +he spoke again: “Hand it over and get out of +here. I’ve had enough trouble with you. I’ll take +your word for it.”</p> +<p>But Rathburn was undoing the paper wrappings.</p> +<p>Again Sautee made a leap, but this time he met +Rathburn’s left fist and staggered back, dropping +into a chair. Rathburn looked at him coldly.</p> +<p>“Funny you’re so anxious to take my word for +things now, when a minute ago you said you +couldn’t know but what I’d told that holdup story +for a blind so’s I could get away with––<i>this</i>!”</p> +<p>The wrappings fell away, revealing a wad of blank +paper.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face froze. Sautee stared white-faced +at what the other held in his hand. Then a peculiar +glint came into his eyes and he looked at Rathburn +narrowly.</p> +<p>“So that’s the way of it,” he said sarcastically.</p> +<p>Rathburn stuffed the paper into a pocket. Then +he pulled a chair in front of the mines manager and +sat down. He took out paper and tobacco from his +shirt pocket and began to fashion a cigarette.</p> +<p>“It sure looks bad for me, doesn’t it, Mr. Sautee?” +he asked as he snapped a match into flame.</p> +<p>“I thought you were going to return the money,” +Sautee said sneeringly.</p> +<p>“It looks bad two ways,” Rathburn went on as if +he hadn’t heard the other’s comment. “First, if +that package the holdups got had contained the +money you could have swore it was a put-up job. +I’d have had to beat it fast. Now, when I find +that the package you gave to me was full of +blank paper, you can say that I framed the holdup +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +story and changed the money for paper in the +bargain.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s eyes were glowing. “An’ you’ll have to +beat it, after all,” he jeered.</p> +<p>“So it would seem,” mused Rathburn. “I fooled +’em, an’ to all appearances I fooled myself, although +maybe I <i>did</i> take a peep into that package when I +changed it in my room, Mr. Sautee.”</p> +<p>The mines manager shifted in his chair; but he +stared defiantly at Rathburn.</p> +<p>“You’d have a hard time proving anything,” he +said grimly.</p> +<p>“That’s the trouble,” Rathburn admitted. “I’d +sort of have to depend on you. I was thinkin’ +maybe you double crossed me to make ’em think +<i>I</i> was carrying the money while you sneaked it up +some other way, Mr. Sautee.”</p> +<p>“You can think what you want to,” said Sautee. +“But you better start moving. If I was you, I’d +get as far away from this town and Mannix as I +could by daylight.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s manner underwent a lightning change +as he threw away his partly finished cigarette.</p> +<p>“You’re right,” he said crisply. “It’s time to start +moving, Sautee.”</p> +<p>He rose, and his right hand moved incredibly +fast. Sautee gasped as he looked into the bore of +Rathburn’s gun. He could hardly realize that Rathburn +had drawn.</p> +<p>“I fooled the night riders twice,” explained Rathburn +with a peculiar smile. “First, when I let ’em +get the wrong package, an’ again when I let ’em +get the wrong gun. This gun an’ I work together +like clock ticks when necessary. I’ll have to ask +you to fork over the money that you drew from +the bank an’ that should have been in that package, +Sautee.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes had narrowed and hardened; his +words were cold and menacing––deadly in their +absolute sincerity.</p> +<p>“What––what do you mean?” stammered the mines +manager.</p> +<p>“I take it you’re not deaf,” snapped out Rathburn. +“Maybe you don’t know it, Sautee, but so +help me, you’re takin’ a chance by acting like you +didn’t get me.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s thin face was twitching in a spasm of +commingled rage and fear.</p> +<p>“The Coyote!” he breathed.</p> +<p>“Who told you that?” demanded Rathburn on +the instant.</p> +<p>Sautee gripped the sides of his chair, and his +face went a shade more pallid.</p> +<p>“Carlisle,” he confessed in a strained voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed, and the mines manager shivered +as he heard.</p> +<p>“Now, Sautee, we’ll quit beatin’ around the bush,” +Rathburn said through his teeth. “We’ll get down +to business together, or I’ll begin to search your +place here. But if I have to search, I’ll search +alone. There ain’t so much chance of a shot bein’ +heard way up the street; an’ there ain’t much +chance of me bein’ caught on that hoss of mine +if I don’t want to get caught. Also, I’m beginning +to feel like I was in a hurry. Fork over that +money!”</p> +<p>Sautee looked just an instant longer into the +eyes of the man towering over him. Then he +rose, shaking, dry-lipped, and knelt down by the +head of the bed. He lifted a piece of the carpet, +opened a small trapdoor, reached inside, and brought +out a bundle of bank notes. Rathburn took the +money from him.</p> +<p>Sautee still was kneeling as he heard Rathburn +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +walk lightly to the front door and insert the key +in the lock. He tried to cry out, but the effort +resulted only in a croak in his throat. He heard +the door close softly.</p> +<p>“The Coyote!” he mumbled, passing a hand across +his forehead.</p> +<p>The echoes of galloping hoofs came to him as he +scrambled to his feet and staggered toward the door.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_APPEAL_TO_THE_LAW' id='CHAPTER_XX_APPEAL_TO_THE_LAW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>APPEAL TO THE LAW</h3> +</div> +<p>For some moments Sautee stood in the darkened +doorway staring up the moonlit street. The +echoes of Rathburn’s flight had died away. The +town was still. Sautee did not cry out, although +he had recovered a considerable measure of his +composure. He listened intently and finally grunted +with satisfaction.</p> +<p>“Up the road,” he muttered. “That means he is +making for the pass over the mountains.”</p> +<p>He walked hurriedly through his office into the +living room. There he stood for a spell beside the +table on which burned the lamp. His brows were +knit into a heavy frown. He seemed debating a +question in his mind. He tapped with nervous +fingers on the table top.</p> +<p>“Pshaw,” he said aloud, his face darkening. “He’s +an outlaw.”</p> +<p>He put on his coat and dropped an automatic +pistol into a side pocket. After another moment of +hesitation he blew out the light and walked quickly +out of the place, locking the door after him.</p> +<p>He hurried up the street to the jail. He found +the jailer dozing in the little front office and did +not attempt to disturb him. From the jail he hurried +another short distance up the street and turned in +at a little house located some distance back from +the sidewalk. He knocked loudly on the door, and +after a brief wait repeated the performance.</p> +<p>A light showed, and the front door opened. Mannix, +the deputy, looked out.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></div> +<p>“Let me in,” said Sautee briefly. “There’s been +another robbery.”</p> +<p>Mannix swung the door wide and stepped aside. +He wore an ulster over his night clothes, and his +bare feet were thrust into slippers. He scowled at +the mines manager as he shut the door.</p> +<p>“More of the company’s money gone?” he asked +with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.</p> +<p>Sautee nodded. “Some twenty-odd thousand,” he +said soberly; “and I believe the man that got it is +responsible for the holdups that have been pulled +off around here.”</p> +<p>“Who got it?” Mannix asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Rathburn,” Sautee announced.</p> +<p>Mannix smiled in undisgusted contempt. “Your +own fault,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t give me a +chance to investigate. Said you had a scheme that +would show him up one way or the other. Wouldn’t +let me in on it, an’ I was fool enough to let you +have a try, although I don’t believe I could have +held him anyhow.”</p> +<p>“Just it,” said Sautee. “Wouldn’t have done any +good to keep him in jail, and I thought I had a +two-way scheme that would either show him up, +as you say, or get me an excellent messenger. I +intrusted Rathburn with a package to carry to the +mines office. He’s a gunman, a desperado, probably +a killer, and I thought it would appeal to him +to be put in a place of trust. If he fell down––then +I figured you’d be able to get him like you +said you could.”</p> +<p>Mannix snorted. “After tryin’ a fool scheme +you want to shift the business on <i>my</i> shoulders, eh? +Well, Sautee, you’ve never shown much confidence +in my ability, an’ you don’t have to show any +now. It looks to me as if the finishing of this +play is all up to you.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></div> +<p>“Oh, no, it isn’t,” said Sautee confidently. “You’ll +be most mighty glad to take out after him.”</p> +<p>“Suppose you wait an’ see how quick I start,” +Mannix retorted angrily. “What’s the matter? +Didn’t he carry out your orders? I suppose you +gave him a bundle of money to make off with. +Sautee, I believe you’re a fool!”</p> +<p>The mines manager winced and then frowned. +“I gave him the money to carry to the mine,” he +confessed without flinching. “He came back with +a story about being held up, and when he saw that +I didn’t believe him and intended to turn him back +to you, he pulled a gun on me and made his get-away. +He lit out through town for the road to +the hogback and the pass over the mountains.”</p> +<p>Mannix laughed harshly. “You’re clever, Sautee; +there’s no getting away from how clever you are. +Now you want me to go chasing up to the hogback +to head him off. Well, I’m tellin’ you that +I don’t know where he’s gone, an’ I ain’t starting +out after him at any two o’clock in the morning. +If you’d have kept your nose out of this he’d +still be all safe an’ quiet in jail. That’s final, so +you might as well clear out an’ give me a chance +to get some sleep.”</p> +<p>Sautee merely smiled after this speech from the +disgusted deputy.</p> +<p>“Since I intrusted Rathburn with that job I’ve +found out something about him which takes the +case out of my hands entirely,” he said with a +smirk. “I don’t care if you don’t start after him +till day after to-morrow. But if your chief––the +sheriff––finds out that you didn’t hit the trail to-night +he’ll likely ask you for your badge!”</p> +<p>“Are you threatening me?” Mannix demanded +loudly.</p> +<p>“No, I’m only stating facts,” Sautee replied stoutly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +“That man who calls himself Rathburn is The +Coyote!”</p> +<p>Mannix didn’t start. He appeared hardly interested. +Only the keen, penetrating quality of the +steady gaze he directed at the mines manager betrayed +the fact that his faculties were aroused.</p> +<p>“The Coyote hit back for Arizona after that +deal he was mixed up in over in Dry Lake, across +the range,” he said with conviction.</p> +<p>“Oh, he did?” Sautee sneered openly. “Well, +you had him in jail last night, and you can probably +get him again, if you start right out after +him.”</p> +<p>“What makes you think this fellow Rathburn is +The Coyote?” demanded Mannix.</p> +<p>“Carlisle knows him by sight, and he told me.”</p> +<p>“Then why didn’t you tell me?” the deputy asked +sternly.</p> +<p>“Because Carlisle didn’t tell me until after I +told him what I’d done,” Sautee evaded. “Then I +didn’t have the––ah––nerve, under the circumstances, +to come to you with the news. At that, I thought +he might go through with it.”</p> +<p>Mannix swore softly. “Giving a pay-roll messenger’s +job to a man who’s got a price on his +head a mile long!” he exclaimed savagely. “Why +didn’t Carlisle come to me?”</p> +<p>Sautee shrugged. “I’m not responsible for Carlisle. +Maybe he didn’t feel sure of it, and maybe +he’s just naturally jealous of The Coyote and wants +to bring him in himself. Carlisle is a gunman, as +you know, and a good one.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” snapped out Mannix; “and I know +both Carlisle an’ you are a pair of bunglers. I guess +you wanted to show me up, but you’ve gone about +it in a way that won’t get you anything nor hurt +me, I’ll see to that.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div> +<p>Sautee smiled as the deputy hurried out of the +room.</p> +<p>In a few minutes Mannix returned fully dressed +and carrying a rifle. The deputy’s face was severe, +and his eyes burned with the fire of the man +hunt. He signaled impatiently to the mine manager +to follow him. As they walked across the little +porch and around to the rear of the house where +Mannix kept his car the deputy talked fast.</p> +<p>“I’m goin’ up to the hogback. He ain’t had start +enough to get up there yet on a horse, an’ I’ll +beat him to it. It’ll be daylight in about two +hours, an’ I’ll be there till daylight. If you think +you can do it, get out some of the men an’ cover +the trails to the mine on horses. He might try +to get over that way. Then you better take your +car and go up to the mine by the road as fast +as you can to tell ’em to be on the lookout. Watch +out on the hogback, for I’ll be up there, parked with +my lights out.”</p> +<p>He had reached his small garage when he finished +giving his instructions, and Sautee, with a promise +to do as he had been told as quickly as possible, +ran down the street toward the Red Feather, where +a light still shone.</p> +<p>The news that The Coyote and Rathburn were +one and the same, and that he had robbed the +mining company that night and was probably responsible +for the other holdups, created an immediate +sensation among the few gamblers in the resort. +Sautee added to the excitement by quoting rewards +at random, and the forming of two posses to comb +the trails to the mine and beyond was under way +at once.</p> +<p>Sautee ran to his office and got out his small +car. He stopped at the Red Feather and took one +of the men from the mine with him. He stopped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +again when he reached the Carlisle cabin, pounded +on the doors, and looked in the windows. But +the place was deserted, and Sautee’s features were +wreathed in perplexity as he went back to his car.</p> +<p>“That’s queer,” he said as he climbed into his +seat.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked the man beside him.</p> +<p>But Sautee’s answer was drowned in the roar +of the motor as he sped up the road toward the +hogback and the mine.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_A_CAPTURE' id='CHAPTER_XXI_A_CAPTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>A CAPTURE</h3> +</div> +<p>When Rathburn rode away from Sautee’s +quarters he galloped up the street straight +for the road which led west out of town. He +pulled his horse down to a trot when he reached +the Carlisle cabin and made another brief inspection +which showed that the place was deserted. Then +he struck into the trail behind the cabin and began +the ascent toward the Dixie Queen.</p> +<p>He rode slowly through the timber, depending +upon his mount to keep to the dim trail, but in +the open stretches in meadows and on the crest +of ridges where the timber thinned, he made better +time. On this occasion one would not have +noted an attitude of uncertainty about his manner +or movements. He had paid strict attention to the +barn man’s description of this trail, and he had +determined general directions the day before. Rathburn +was not a stranger to the art of following new +trails; nor was he the kind to become confused in +a locality with which he was not familiar unless +he became absolutely lost. In this instance it would +be a hard matter to become lost, for the ridges +rose steadily upward toward the summits of the +high mountains, the town was in the narrow valley +below, and the foothills ranged down to the desert +in the east.</p> +<p>He was halfway to the mine when he saw the +gleam of an automobile’s lights in the road far +below.</p> +<p>“Sautee got busy right quick,” he said aloud. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +’spect they’re hustlin’ up to head me off at the hogback. +They’re figuring I’d try to go back the way +I come in.”</p> +<p>He smiled grimly in the soft moonlight, and his +gaze turned toward the east, where the stars glowed +over the shadowy reaches of desert which he could +not see, but the very thought of which stirred something +in his soul.</p> +<p>Then he pushed on up the trail toward the mine. +For more than an hour he rode, and then, when +he came to the crest of a ridge just below the +Dixie Queen, he saw the lights of an automobile +in the road to the right of him.</p> +<p>“Now what?” he ejaculated. “They ain’t figurin’ +I’d come up here!”</p> +<p>He sat his horse with features again wreathed +in perplexity. He scowled at the approaching gleam +of light. In the direction of the hogback he could +see nothing. Nor could he see the horsemen already +on the trail below him and on the ridge trail +to eastward.</p> +<p>The little mine village was directly below him. +The few buildings huddled together below the big +mine dump were dark. The mine buildings, too, +were dark. A faint glow showed in the east––harbinger +of the dawn.</p> +<p>The left side of the automobile was toward him +when it stopped in the little street below. A man +climbed out and walked around in front of the +car, and Rathburn grunted in recognition as he +made out the familiar form of Sautee, the mine +manager.</p> +<p>He saw Sautee and another leave the car and +walk toward a building at the lower end of the +street. He could see them fairly well in the moonlight +and realized that in a comparatively short time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +it would be daylight. He turned his horse down +the slope.</p> +<p>When he reached the rear of the few buildings +which formed the mining village, catering to the +wants of the Dixie Queen workers, Rathburn edged +along to the lower end where he left his horse in +the shadow of a building directly across from the +one which Sautee and his companion had entered, +and in the windows of which a light now shone.</p> +<p>He stole across the street. Peering in one of +the windows he saw that the room was an office. +Sautee was standing before a desk, talking to another +man. Rathburn quickly surmised that this +man had accompanied Sautee from the town. Even +as he looked, Sautee finished his speech by striking +a palm with his fist, and his companion strode toward +the door.</p> +<p>Rathburn darted around the side of the building +into the shadow as the man came out and hurried +up a wide road toward the mine buildings above. +Then Rathburn ran around to the front of the +building and quietly opened the door.</p> +<p>Sautee had seated himself at the desk, and he +swung about in his chair as he heard the door +open. He looked again into the black bore of +Rathburn’s gun. His eyes bulged, and this time +they shone with genuine terror.</p> +<p>“It was sure in the pictures for us to meet again, +Sautee,” said Rathburn easily. “Our business wasn’t +finished. We ain’t through yet.”</p> +<p>“There isn’t any more money,” Sautee gasped +out. “There’s no money up here at all.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, there is,” said Rathburn with a mirthless +smile. “There’s twenty-odd thousand dollars +in my right-hand coat pocket. Now I wonder what +you’ve got in yours. It don’t stand to reason you’d +start out this time without a gun. Stand up!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span></div> +<p>Sautee rose. His face was ashen. He held his +hands high as Rathburn pressed his weapon against +his chest and relieved him of the automatic which +he carried. Rathburn felt his other pockets and then +smiled agreeably. He tossed the automatic on the +desk.</p> +<p>“All right, we’ll get goin’,” he announced, indicating +the open door. “We’ll have to hurry, for +I take it you’ve sent for somebody from the mine.”</p> +<p>“Where are we going?” asked Sautee without +moving.</p> +<p>“We’re goin’ for a little mornin’ walk, if you +act reasonable,” replied Rathburn. “That was my +intention. But if you don’t want to go–––”</p> +<p>He shrugged, and as Sautee looked fixedly at +him, he cocked his gun.</p> +<p>Sautee hurried toward the door with Rathburn +following him closely. When they were outside +Rathburn directed Sautee across the street. When +they reached Rathburn’s horse Rathburn quickly +mounted and motioned to the mines manager to +precede him into the timber behind the little village. +When they gained the shelter of the timber they +gradually circled around until they struck a trail +which led up above the mine. They started up +this, Sautee leading the way on foot with Rathburn +following on his horse and keeping his gun +trained on the mines manager’s back.</p> +<p>“Don’t worry,” Rathburn crooned. “I won’t shoot +you in the back, Sautee. That wouldn’t be accordin’ +to my ethics. But I’d have to stop you if +you made a break to leave the present company.”</p> +<p>Sautee plodded on, his breath coming in gasps, +the perspiration standing out on his forehead.</p> +<p>The trail joined with another well-worn path a +short distance above the mine. The eastern sky +now was light, and Rathburn saw a stone building +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +above them. He also saw that they were on the +steep slope of the big mountain on which the Dixie +Queen was located, and that there was a rift in +this mountain to the left which indicated the presence +of a pass there.</p> +<p>In a few minutes they reached the stone building. +It had an iron door across which was painted the +legend:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>DANGER +POWDER––DYNAMITE +KEEP AWAY</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Rathburn dismounted and tossed the reins over +his horse’s head so the animal would stand.</p> +<p>“That place looks like a natural jail,” he commented.</p> +<p>“It’s the mine’s powder house,” said Sautee, wiping +his wet forehead.</p> +<p>“Sure,” Rathburn rejoined, “that’s just what it +is. I expect there’s enough powder in there to blow +half this mountain off.”</p> +<p>He walked to the door and took out his gun as +he examined the padlock.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do?” asked Sautee excitedly.</p> +<p>“I’m goin’ to blow the lock off,” said Rathburn +coolly.</p> +<p>“Don’t do it!” cried Sautee. “There’s high-percentage +dynamite in there and T N T caps that we +use on road work––dozens of boxes of it. You +might set it off!”</p> +<p>Rathburn looked at the quaking mine manager +speculatively. “That’s right,” he said finally, turning +aside to grin to himself. “I guess any little jar +might start it workin’. It goes off easy, I’ve heard.”</p> +<p>“There are caps and detonators in there, too,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +said Sautee quickly. “You might shoot into them +some way, you never can tell. Well, it would be as +bad for you as for me.” He uttered the last sentence +in a note of triumph.</p> +<p>Rathburn was looking at the far-flung view below. +He turned a hard gaze on Sautee. “What difference +do you suppose it would make to me if that stuff in +there goes off?” he demanded in a harsh voice. +“Look down there!”</p> +<p>Sautee looked and drew in his breath with a gasp.</p> +<p>In the clear light of the blossoming dawn the +whole panorama of the lower mountain country was +spread out before them. To the left, under the +towering peaks of the divide, the rounded crest of +the hogback was discernible, and a black spot marked +the location of Mannix’s automobile.</p> +<p>“There’s a car over there,” said Rathburn, noting +the direction of Sautee’s gaze.</p> +<p>Almost directly below them a number of mounted +men filed over a ridge and again disappeared in the +timber. Off to the right more horsemen were to +be seen.</p> +<p>“Looks like there was a posse or two out this +morning,” said Rathburn in a forbidding voice. “I +reckon I ain’t such a fool as not to know who +they’re lookin’ for, Sautee. Now maybe you can +figure out why I ain’t as scared of that powder +house as you are.”</p> +<p>“I can stop them!” cried Sautee in a shaking voice.</p> +<p>“Sure,” Rathburn agreed. “You can say you lied +about me takin’ the money–––”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell ’em you gave it back!” said Sautee +hoarsely. “I’ll tell ’em you brought it on up to the +mine and that it’s in the safe. I’ll square it–––”</p> +<p>“But you can’t square the rewards that are out for +The Coyote,” said Rathburn sternly. “You’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +stepped into a bigger game than you thought, Sautee, +an’ it’s got plumb out of your hands.”</p> +<p>He turned on the mine manager fiercely. “Whatever +happens, remember this: Once a man gets a +bad reputation in a country like this or the country +I come from, he’s got it for keeps. He can’t get +away from it no matter how he acts or what he +does. Mine has drove me away from the place +where I belong; it’s followed me here; I can’t lose +it; an’ the way things has been going, by glory, I +don’t know if I <i>want</i> to lose it!”</p> +<p>Sautee cowered back under the fierceness in Rathburn’s +manner.</p> +<p>“An’ you can tell ’em, if you ever have a chance +to talk again, that I earned my reputation square! +I ain’t involved nobody else, an’ I ain’t stole from +any poor people, an’ I never threw my gun down on +a man who didn’t start for his first.”</p> +<p>The deadly earnestness and the note of regret in +Rathburn’s tone caused Sautee to forget his uneasiness +temporarily and stare at the man in wonder. +Rathburn’s eyes were narrowed, his gaze was steel +blue, and his face was drawn into hard, grim lines +as he looked out upon the far-flung, glorious vista +below them, broken here and there by the movement +of mounted men.</p> +<p>“Maybe I––I–––” Sautee faltered in his speech. +His words seemed impotent in the face of Rathburn’s +deadly seriousness.</p> +<p>Rathburn turned abruptly to the powder house +door.</p> +<p>“Wait!” cried Sautee.</p> +<p>The mines manager dug frantically into his pockets +and drew out a bunch of keys.</p> +<p>“There are some locks on this property to which +there are only two keys,” he explained nervously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +“This is one of them, and I carry the second key. +Here!”</p> +<p>He held out the key ring with one key extended.</p> +<p>Rathburn thrust his gun back into its holster and +took the keys. In a moment he had unlocked the +padlock and swung open the iron door, exposing case +after case of high explosive within the stone structure.</p> +<p>Sautee was staring at him in dire apprehension.</p> +<p>Rathburn pointed toward the rift in the mountain +on the left above them. Sautee looked and saw a +man and a boy riding down the trail.</p> +<p>“That looks to me like the man that held me up +last night,” said Rathburn. “He looks like one of +the men, anyway. Maybe he’s found out he didn’t +get much, eh? Maybe he’s coming back because he +didn’t have enough to make a get-away with. Maybe +he thinks he was double crossed or something.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s features were working in a spasm of +fear and worry. Suddenly he turned on Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you get away?” he asked in eager +pleading. “That trail will take you out of the mountains +and down into the desert country. You’re from +the desert, aren’t you? You can make it. You’ve +made a good haul. Go! It’ll be better for me and +all of us!”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed bitterly. “I can’t go because I’m +a worse fool than you are,” he said acridly. “Get +in there. Sneaking lizards, man, can’t you see I’m +tempted to put a shot into one of them boxes and +blow us both to kingdom come?”</p> +<p>Sautee shrank back into the powder house, and +Rathburn slammed the door.</p> +<p>As Rathburn snapped the padlock and thrust the +keys into his pocket his eyes again sought the trail to +the left above him. No one was in sight. The man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +and the boy had disappeared in a bend or depression +in the trail.</p> +<p>But when he looked down toward the hogback he +saw a car coming up the road toward the mine. A +number of horsemen had taken its place on the hogback.</p> +<p>Rathburn ran for his horse.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_A_SECOND_CAPTURE' id='CHAPTER_XXII_A_SECOND_CAPTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>A SECOND CAPTURE</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn rode straight up the trail which led +from the powder house toward the pass over the +big mountain. His eyes were gleaming with satisfaction, +but several times they clouded with doubt, +and he felt the bank notes in his coat pocket. Each +time, however, he would shake his head and push +on up the trail with renewed energy.</p> +<p>Looking backward and downward, he could see +the posses gathering in the street of the mine village. +He sensed the excitement which had followed the +sudden disappearance of Sautee and smiled grimly. +He saw that the automobile from the hogback had +reached the village. Scores of men were clustered +about it. He knew Mannix was taking personal +charge of the man hunt; but there was a chance to +get away!</p> +<p>He looked wistfully eastward. Somewhere off +there, beyond the rolling foothills, was the desert. +He thrilled. It had been there he had made his first +mistake. Goaded by the loss of his small cattle +ranch he had taken revenge on the man who had +foreclosed on him and others in a similar predicament. +He had held up the bank and restored a small +measure of the losses. Even then the profit of the +unscrupulous money lender had been enormous.</p> +<p>But the law had marked Rathburn. The gunmen +who were jealous of his reputation as an expert at +the draw had forced him to fall back upon that draw +to protect his life. Thus he had been driven to obtain +a living in the best way he could, and something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +in the dangerous, uncertain life of the outlaw had +appealed to his wild blood.</p> +<p>Sautee had said the money in his pocket was a +good haul. Why not? He looked again to eastward. +Over the big mountain––into the timber––a +circling back––a straight cut east–––</p> +<p>He knew he could do it. He had evaded posses +before––posses composed of trained men who were +accustomed to take the man trail. It would actually +be rare sport to play with the crowd below. His left +hand dropped idly into his coat pocket, and he started +as he fingered what was there. Then his brow became +furrowed, and he scowled.</p> +<p>“Maybe I ain’t such a good guesser after all,” he +muttered. “Maybe I’m just what I told Sautee––a +fool.”</p> +<p>He caught sight of a man and a boy above him. +Another instant and they were lost to view.</p> +<p>Rathburn suddenly put the spurs to his horse, and +the dun surged up the steep trail. As he rode, Rathburn +took his rawhide lariat from its place on the +saddle. At a point above where the trail twisted +about a huge outcropping of rock he turned off, dismounted, +and crept to the top of the rocks. Quickly +he surveyed the trail above. Then he slipped back +down to his horse, got in the saddle, and took up a +position just at the lower end of the outcropping, +some little distance back from the trail and above it. +He held the lariat ready in his hands.</p> +<p>He sat his horse quietly––listening. The wind had +died with the dawn, and there was no sound in the +hills. The sun was mounting in the sky to eastward. +Rathburn looked out over the timbered slopes below +with wistful eyes. Suddenly his gaze became alert. +The sound of horses upon the rocky trail above the +outcropping came to his ears.</p> +<p>Gradually the sound became more and more distinct. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +He could hear the hoofs of the horses striking +against the rock of the trail. He shook out the +noose of his rope, and it sang as it whirled in the air.</p> +<p>The head of a horse had hardly pushed past the +rock when Rathburn’s noose went swirling downward +and dropped true over its target. The man in +the saddle loosed a string of curses as he felt the +rawhide lariat tighten about his arms and chest. His +horse shied, and he was dragged from the saddle, +landing on his feet, but falling instantly.</p> +<p>The second horse reared back, and Rathburn’s gun +covered the boy in the saddle. Rathburn, keeping +tight hold on the rope hand over hand, and retaining +his gun in his right hand at the same time, ran down +the short pitch. The boy’s horse became still, and +while the youth stared Rathburn trussed up the first +rider and then stood off to look at him.</p> +<p>“Just takin’ a mornin’ ride, Carlisle?” he asked +cheerfully. “Or did you forget something? Don’t +make any false moves, kid. I ain’t in a playful +mood.”</p> +<p>The boy continued to stare, but Carlisle’s face was +black with rage, and curses flowed from his lips.</p> +<p>“That won’t get you anything,” Rathburn said +coolly. “You might better be doin’ some tall thinking +instead of cussing. You ain’t got the cards +stacked for this deal, Carlisle.”</p> +<p>“What’s your game?” Carlisle managed to get out.</p> +<p>“It’s a deep one,” Rathburn replied dryly. “An’ +it’s too complicated to tell you now. I’m goin’ to +give you a chance to do the thinking I mentioned a +while back. I ain’t takin’ your gun or your horse. +The only thing I’m takin’ is a chance, an’ I ain’t +takin’ it on <i>your</i> account.”</p> +<p>For an instant Rathburn’s eyes burned with fury. +Then he dragged Carlisle into the shelter of the rocks, +to the side of the trail, and tied his horse near by. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +Mounting, he motioned to the boy to ride down the +trail ahead of him. He looked at the big hat and the +overalls the boy wore. The youth looked wildly +about and then drove the spurs into his mount and +dashed down the trail with Rathburn close behind, +calling to him to take it easy.</p> +<p>Just as they reached a spot directly above the powder +house the boy reined in his horse. Rathburn saw +he was looking down at the turbulent scene in the +street of the little village below the mine. Then the +boy swayed in the saddle, and Rathburn had just +time to fling himself to the ground and catch the +senseless form in his arms as it toppled.</p> +<p>He put his burden down on the grass beside the +trail and led his horse into the timber and tied him. +Next he picked up the boy and made his way down +to the powder house. The shouts of many men came +to him from far below. He succeeded in getting out +the keys and unlocking the padlock which secured the +door of the powder house. Then he opened the door, +covered the frightened mine manager with his gun, +and carried his burden in with one arm.</p> +<p>“One of the accomplices,” he said briefly to Sautee, +as he put the lad down and loosened the shirt at the +throat. “He’ll come around in a minute.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s eyes were popping from his head. He +leaned back upon the cases of dynamite and passed a +clammy hand over his brow.</p> +<p>“I’ve got Carlisle, too,” said Rathburn. “Takin’ +it all around from under it ain’t a bad morning’s +haul.”</p> +<p>Sautee now stared at him with a new look in his +eyes––a look in which doubt struggled with terror.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe you <i>are</i> The Coyote!” he blurted +out.</p> +<p>“Who do you reckon I might be, if I ain’t?” Rathburn +asked quietly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div> +<p>“You might be some kind of a deputy or something.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed harshly. “It just happens I’m +the man some folks call The Coyote,” he said. “I +don’t like the name, but it was wished on me, an’ I +can’t seem to shake it off. If I wasn’t the man you +think I am you wouldn’t be in such a tight fix, +Sautee.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s words conveyed a subtle menace which +was not lost on the mine manager. Sautee cringed +and rubbed his hands in his nervous tension.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Listen!” exclaimed Rathburn.</p> +<p>From below came the echoes of shouts and other +sounds which conveyed the intelligence that a large +body of men was on the move up to the mine and +the mountain slope above.</p> +<p>“They’re after me,” said Rathburn bitterly. “They +think I stole the pay-rolls. They can’t get me, Sautee––not +alive. An’ if they get me the other way I’m +goin’ to see to it somehow that I don’t get blamed +for these jobs up here. Now, do you begin to see +daylight?”</p> +<p>Sautee wet his dry lips. The figure on the floor +stirred. The shouts from below sounded more distinct.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s gun leaped into his hand. “You better +start hoping the shootin’ don’t begin till we understand +each other, Sautee,” he said grimly. “We’ve +come to the show-down!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_QUICK_FACTS' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_QUICK_FACTS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>QUICK FACTS</h3> +</div> +<p>Disregarding the sounds which continued to +come from below, Rathburn stood, gun in hand, +regarding Sautee with a grim countenance and a cold +look in his keen, gray eyes.</p> +<p>“I saw that truck driver held up, Sautee. I was +on a ridge below the divide. I saw the tall man in +the black slicker, his pardner, an’ the boy. I didn’t +figure it would do any good to tell Mannix I’d taken +in the show, an’ I was on my way to the desert. I’d +be there now if Carlisle hadn’t overstepped the mark +in that Red Feather place.”</p> +<p>Sautee pricked up his ears. “You let them arrest +you,” he said. “Why–––”</p> +<p>“Because I knew Mannix didn’t know who I was +an’ didn’t have anything on me,” said Rathburn +quickly. “An’ I got peevish at Carlisle an’ plumb +suspicious when he tried to make things look bad for +me right there at the start. I began to wise up to +the whole lay when you got me out of jail.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s face went white again.</p> +<p>“Your fine explanations of why you couldn’t get +that money up to the mine were thin as water, +Sautee. You could get that money up there if you +wanted to, an’ when you asked me to carry the package +to the mine it was a dead out-an’-out give-away. +I reckon you didn’t play me to have any sense, an’ I +don’t think you gave Carlisle credit for havin’ the +brains of a jack rabbit, either.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed as the mine manager stared at +mention of Carlisle’s name again.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></div> +<p>“Don’t worry,” he said contemptuously. “I know it +was Carlisle who held me up. I take it he figured that +you’d actually put money in that package. Wouldn’t +be surprised if it was him that you got to try that +stunt. An’ he started away with the package as soon +as he got it instead of sneakin’ back home to split +with you. He double crossed you an’ you double +crossed him an’ me. Now I’m double crossing the +two of you.”</p> +<p>Sautee’s look had changed to one of anger. He +glared at Rathburn, forgetting his predicament.</p> +<p>“You’d have a fine time proving any of this nonsense,” +he found the courage to say.</p> +<p>“I’m not only goin’ to prove what I’ve said so far, +but I’m goin’ to prove that these robberies were a +put-up job between you an’ Carlisle, with somebody +helping you,” said Rathburn. “I’ve been in the mining +game myself, Sautee, but in our country men +spend their lives hunting metal to make some bunch +of stockholders rich. Maybe they get something out +of it themselves, an’ maybe they don’t; but they’re +square, an’ the men that run the mines are square +’most always. Anyway they develop properties, an’ +that’s more’n you’re doing. You’re not doing this +camp any good. You’re bleeding the mine an’ the +company, too.”</p> +<p>“And I suppose you––The Coyote––are taking a +hand in this business as a matter of principle,” sneeringly +replied Sautee.</p> +<p>“I didn’t take a hand,” Rathburn pointed out +sternly. “You an’ Carlisle forced a hand on me, an’ +I’m goin’ to play it out. I’ve another reason, too,” +he added mysteriously.</p> +<p>“Did you say you had Carlisle?” Sautee asked in +feigned anxiety.</p> +<p>“I’ve got him dead to rights,” replied Rathburn +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +shortly, taking some paper and a pencil from a +pocket.</p> +<p>Sautee looked at him curiously as he started to +write on the paper. “Going to write it all out and +leave it?” he asked sneeringly.</p> +<p>“I’m going to put it outside the powder house in a +place where Mannix or some of the others will be +sure to find it,” was the puzzling answer.</p> +<p>“I suppose they’ll believe it quicker if it’s in writing,” +said Sautee bravely.</p> +<p>Rathburn finished writing, folded the paper, and +placed it in the left-hand pocket of his coat. He +carefully put away the pencil. His next act caused +Sautee real concern.</p> +<p>Using a drill which was there for the purpose, evidently, +Rathburn broke open a box of dynamite caps +and a box of dynamite. A single coil of fuse was +lying on a box. He quickly affixed the cap to a +stick of the dynamite and crimped on a two-foot +length of fuse. Then he moved the opened box of +dynamite to the doorway and struck the stick with +cap and fuse attached into it.</p> +<p>“There,” he said, evidently greatly satisfied with +his work. “That fuse will burn about two minutes–––” +He paused. “That’s too long,” he concluded.</p> +<p>Perspiration again stood out on Sautee’s forehead +as he watched Rathburn cut off a foot of the fuse.</p> +<p>“That’s better,” said Rathburn with a queer smile. +“That’ll burn about a minute. Time enough.”</p> +<p>Sautee stared in horrified fascination at the foot +of fuse which stuck straight out from the box of +dynamite in the doorway. “What––what are you +going to do?” he gasped out.</p> +<p>“Listen, Sautee,” said Rathburn coolly. “When +that stick of powder explodes it’ll set off the box an’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +the other boxes, an’ instead of a powder house here +there’ll be a big hole in the side of the mountain.”</p> +<p>“Man––man––you’re not going to do––<i>that</i>!” +Sautee’s words came in a hoarse whisper.</p> +<p>“I reckon that’s what I’m goin’ to have to do,” +said Rathburn as he bent over the form on the floor +of the powder house.</p> +<p>The boy’s eyes were open and were staring into +Rathburn’s.</p> +<p>Rathburn lifted him to his feet, where he stood +unsteadily. Again the gun was in Rathburn’s hand.</p> +<p>“This party is goin’ to leave us,” he said to the +frightened mine manager. “I’m goin’ to step just +outside for a minute. It’s your chance to make a +break, Sautee; but if you try it I’ll send a bullet into +that cap. Maybe you heard somewhere that I can +shoot tolerably well,” he concluded in his drawl.</p> +<p>Sautee gripped the sides of the boxes piled behind +him.</p> +<p>Rathburn led the boy outside and said quickly: +“Just what is this man Carlisle to you?”</p> +<p>A look of fear, remorse, dejection––all commingled +and pleading––came into the dark eyes that +looked up into his.</p> +<p>Rathburn didn’t wait for a verbal answer.</p> +<p>“Your horse is just up the trail a piece,” he said +hurriedly. “Get up there––go up behind the powder +house, so the men below can’t see you. Swing off +into the timber to the left and get down out of here. +I’ll keep their attention. Go home.”</p> +<p>He waited a moment until he saw that his instructions +were being carried out, then he leaped again to +the doorway of the powder house.</p> +<p>Sautee’s face was livid, and his teeth were chattering. +Rathburn took a match from his shirt pocket.</p> +<p>“Stop!” screamed Sautee. “I’ll talk. You were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +right. It was a frame-up. I’ll tell everything––<i>everything</i>!”</p> +<p>The perspiration was streaming from his face, and +his voice shook with terror.</p> +<p>“You’ll have a chance to talk in less than a minute,” +said Rathburn calmly.</p> +<p>A chorus of shouts came from the trail just below +the powder house as a number of men came into +view.</p> +<p>Rathburn stepped in front of the door with the +match in his left hand and his gun in his right.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_THE_SHOWDOWN' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_THE_SHOWDOWN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>THE SHOW-DOWN</h3> +</div> +<p>A wild chorus of yells greeted him. He had +surmised that the men had seen him coming +back down the trail to the powder house with his human +burden. Now he called Sautee into view. They +would most naturally assume that it was the mine +manager he had been carrying.</p> +<p>“Come to the door where they can see you,” he +called to Sautee.</p> +<p>The ring in his voice brought Sautee, white-faced +and shivering, to the doorway beside Rathburn.</p> +<p>Another round of yells followed the mine manager’s +appearance. Then there was a sudden stillness. +Rathburn saw that the crowd was made up +mostly of miners. They paused in the wide place +in the trail just below the powder house, and Mannix +pushed to the fore.</p> +<p>“I want you, Coyote,” he called sternly.</p> +<p>“Now, don’t you think I know it?” replied Rathburn +in a voice which carried to all the members of +the mob. “You don’t want me for robbing this +mine, Mannix; you want me for something you +don’t know anything about––because I’ve got a record. +Wait a minute!”</p> +<p>He shot out the words as the mob pushed a step +forward.</p> +<p>“If you fellows take a couple more steps in this +direction I’ll put a bullet into this box of dynamite!”</p> +<p>The movement stopped instantly. Men stared up +at him breathlessly, for they realized that he meant +what he said.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></div> +<p>Mannix’s face was pale, but his eyes glowed with +determination.</p> +<p>“Do you think it’s worth it, Coyote?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Step up here, Mannix, an’ listen to what this +fellow has to say,” was Rathburn’s reply. “Men,” +he called in a loud voice, “I’m lookin’ to you to give +your mine boss an’ your deputy sheriff a fair deal.”</p> +<p>There was a murmur among the men. Mannix, +after a moment of hesitation, stepped forward.</p> +<p>Rathburn swung on Sautee. “Tell him!” he commanded +in a voice which stung like the crack of a +whip on still air.</p> +<p>“I––I had a hand in the business,” said Sautee +frantically. “It was Carlisle and me. We––we +framed the robberies.”</p> +<p>Mannix’s eyes narrowed.</p> +<p>“Tell him where I got that money last night,” +Rathburn thundered. “Tell him, Sautee, or, so help +me, I’ll drill a hole through you!”</p> +<p>Sautee cowered before the deadly ferocity in Rathburn’s +voice. “I had it in the––office––downtown,” +he stammered. “There was blank paper in that package, +Mannix. Let him go––let him go, Mannix, or +we’ll all be killed!” Sautee cried.</p> +<p>Rathburn was looking steadily at the deputy. +“Carlisle is roped an’ tied up the trail by the big +rocks,” he said. “Send up there for him an’ bring +him down here.”</p> +<p>Several of the men who were mounted spurred +their horses up the steep trail. There was utter silence +now among the men. Mannix, too, was cool +and collected. He had not drawn his gun. He surveyed +the quaking Sautee with a look of extreme +contempt. The mine manager’s nerves had gone to +pieces before Rathburn’s menacing personality. All +he cared for now was his life. The black reputation +he had given to Rathburn led him to believe that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +man could not be depended upon, and that he was +liable to carry out his threat and blow them all to +bits. He wet his lips with a feverish tongue.</p> +<p>“Where’s the money you an’ Carlisle got away +with?” demanded Mannix.</p> +<p>“I’ve got all I took,” whined Sautee. “I’ll give it +back. I don’t know what Carlisle’s done with his. +It was his scheme, anyway; he proposed it when he +hit this country a year ago.”</p> +<p>“And the other man–––” suggested Mannix.</p> +<p>“Mike Reynolds,” cried Sautee. “But he was only +in on the truck driver deal and––last night. Let The +Coyote go, Mannix–––”</p> +<p>Then Sautee, in a frenzy of fear, an easy prey to +the seriousness of the situation and his shattered +nerves, told everything. He explained how it had +been Carlisle who proposed getting Rathburn out of +jail and making him the goat. He told of the worthless +contents of the package he had given Rathburn +to carry to the mine, how they had planned to rob +him on the way and thus put him in a situation where +he would have to get out of the country. He explained +how Carlisle had pointed out that they had a +club over Rathburn’s head in their knowledge of his +real identity. He complained that Carlisle had intended +to double cross him, and how he had double +crossed Carlisle in turn. He ended with a whining +plea for consideration at the hands of Mannix.</p> +<p>The men with Carlisle came down the trail. Carlisle +was astride his own horse. His gun was in his +holster.</p> +<p>“We’ve got you, you outlaw!” he cried as he +flung himself from the saddle and strode up to Rathburn, +Mannix, and Sautee.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes had narrowed until they were slits +through which his cold, hard gaze centered upon +Carlisle. His attitude had changed. Even his posture +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +was suddenly different. There was a long +breath from the men behind Mannix. It was a tense +moment. They could see the menace in Rathburn’s +manner, and they could see that Carlisle was fighting +mad.</p> +<p>“Ain’t you a little free with your language, Carlisle?” +drawled Rathburn.</p> +<p>“You know who he is?” Carlisle cried to Mannix. +“He’s The Coyote––an outlaw an’ a killer with a +price a mile long on his head–––”</p> +<p>“But I ain’t never sneaked any miners’ pay-rolls, +Carlisle,” Rathburn broke in with a sneering inflection +in his voice. “What’d you do with Mike Reynolds? +He was with you last night, wasn’t he?”</p> +<p>Carlisle’s jaw snapped shut. He swung on Rathburn +with eyes darting red. Then his gaze flashed +to the cringing Sautee.</p> +<p>“You––you rat–––”</p> +<p>Rathburn stepped before Sautee. “You haven’t +any quarrel with him, Carlisle,” he said evenly; “your +quarrel, if you’ve got one, is with me. I outguessed +you, that’s all. You ain’t plumb clever, Carlisle. +You ought to be in a more genteel business. I just +naturally figured out the play an’ made Sautee talk, +that’s all. I ain’t the only gent Mannix is wanting––there’s +<i>three</i> of us here!”</p> +<p>Carlisle’s face was purple and working in spasms +of rage. He realized instantly that Rathburn had +spoken the truth.</p> +<p>“It was his scheme from the start!” shrilled Sautee +from the protection of Rathburn’s broad shoulders.</p> +<p>Then the mine manager, unable to longer stand the +strain, collapsed on the ground, groaning.</p> +<p>“Underhanded!” Carlisle shot through his teeth +as Mannix stepped back. “An’ I heard The Coyote +was a go-getter. By guns, I believe you’re yellow!”</p> +<p>“You’ve got a chance to try an’ finish what you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +started in the Red Feather the day I got here, Carlisle,” +said Rathburn in ringing tones. “If you think +I’m yellow––draw!”</p> +<p>A second’s hesitation––two figures in identical +postures under the morning sun––a vagrant breeze +murmuring in the timber.</p> +<p>Then two movements, quick as lightning––too fast +for the eye to follow––and the roar of guns.</p> +<p>Rathburn stepped back, his weapon smoking at his +hip, as Carlisle swayed for a moment and then +crumpled upon the ground. Rathburn quickly drew +the piece of paper from his left pocket and the roll +of bills from his right. He put the note with the +bills and tossed the roll to Mannix. Then he stepped +back to the doorway.</p> +<p>“Join your men, Mannix,” he said quietly.</p> +<p>Mannix thrust the money into a pocket and stood +for several seconds looking directly into Rathburn’s +eyes. A curious expression was on the deputy’s +face, partly wonder, partly admiration, partly doubt. +Then he turned abruptly upon his heel and walked +back to the gaping men.</p> +<p>Sautee struggled to his feet. Rathburn motioned +to him to join the others, and he staggered down to +them.</p> +<p>Then Rathburn coolly lit a match and touched it +to the fuse sticking out from the box of dynamite.</p> +<p>There was a wild yell of terror, and the mob +tumbled down the trail as Rathburn ran for the trail +above the powder house. The men had disappeared +when he turned. His gun leaped into his hand and +he fired––once, twice, three times––the fourth shot +cut the burning fuse, and with a sharp intaking of +breath, he ran for his horse, mounted, and rode into +the timber along the trail.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV_FILED' id='CHAPTER_XXV_FILED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<h3>FILED!</h3> +</div> +<p>Rathburn picked his way slowly through the +timber around to the southeast and then directly +down toward the town. It was slow going, and the +man seemed to relish this fact. His face was +thoughtful, wistful, a bit grave. He occasionally +patted his horse’s neck.</p> +<p>“We’re on our way home, old hoss,” he said softly. +“Seems like we just <i>had</i> to stop off here.”</p> +<p>He fingered two small objects in his coat pocket.</p> +<p>“I wonder,” he murmured. “I wonder if I could +be mistaken.”</p> +<p>He turned west after a time and rode carefully +until he gained a worn trail. This he followed down +toward town, and in half an hour he dismounted in +the timber behind a small cabin at the side of the +road to the hogback.</p> +<p>Rathburn went to the rear door and knocked. He +received no answer, but sounds came to him through +an open window. He opened the door softly and +stole inside. There was no one in the kitchen. The +sounds came from another room. He passed on into +a bedroom and turned into another bedroom where +he saw a figure in overalls lying on the bed. A great +mass of dark hair covered the pillow. The form +shook with sobs.</p> +<p>Rathburn laid a gentle hand upon the shoulder, +and the face, which was quickly turned to him, was +the face of a girl––the girl he had first seen when +coming into the town, the girl who had been sitting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +the horse listening to Carlisle’s tirade, the girl the +barn man had said was supposed to be Carlisle’s +sister.</p> +<p>“They don’t know you were up there,” said Rathburn +softly. “Your boy’s clothes fooled them, if +they saw you at all. They probably thought I was +carrying Sautee down the trail, for they found +Sautee up there in the powder house with me.”</p> +<p>The girl sobbed again. Her eyes were red with +weeping.</p> +<p>“Listen, ma’am,” said Rathburn gently. “I picked +these up from the road the day the truck driver was +held up.” He brought out two hairpins from his +coat pocket.</p> +<p>“It set me to thinking, ma’am, an’ was one reason +why I stayed over here to find out what was goin’ +on. Maybe I’ve done wrong, ma’am, but I was +hoping I’d be doin’ you a favor. I saw the look in +your eyes the day Carlisle was talkin’ to you when +you was on the hoss. I know you helped him in his +holdups, dressed like a boy, but I figured you didn’t +do it because you wanted to.”</p> +<p>“No––no––no!” sobbed the girl.</p> +<p>“All right; fine, little girl. No one knows anything +about it but me, an’ I’m goin’ away. But, +listen, girlie, just what was Carlisle to you?”</p> +<p>A spasm of weeping shook the girl. “Nothing I +could help,” she sobbed. “He––I had to do as he +said––because––oh, I hate him. I hate him!”</p> +<p>“There, there,” soothed Rathburn. “I suspected as +much, girlie.”</p> +<p>“He made my father a bad man,” sobbed the +girl; “an’ made me go with him or my father would +have to go––to––to go–––”</p> +<p>“Never mind, girlie,” Rathburn interrupted softly. +“I don’t want to hear the story. Just keep it to yourself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +an’ start all over. It ain’t a bad world, girlie, +an’ there’s more good men in it than there’s bad. +Now, you can begin to live and be happy like you +ought. Carlisle won’t worry you no more.”</p> +<p>She raised her head and looked at him out of +startled eyes in which there was a ray of hope.</p> +<p>“You say––he won’t––worry me–––”</p> +<p>“Not at all, girlie. He walked into his own trap. +I’m goin’, girlie. So long, an’ good luck.”</p> +<p>He took her hand and pressed it, and under the +spell of his smile the hope came into her welling +eyes.</p> +<p>“Good-by,” he called from the doorway.</p> +<p>She was smiling faintly through her tears when he +slipped out.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Deputy Sheriff Mannix was sitting in his little +office alone. It was nearly sunset. A faint glow of +crimson shot across the carpet.</p> +<p>Mannix was scowling thoughtfully. On the desk +before him were two pieces of paper. One of them +was a reward notice publishing the fact that The +Coyote was wanted and that five thousand dollars +would be paid by the State of Arizona for his capture, +dead or alive.</p> +<p>Mannix picked up the second piece of paper and +again read the words penciled upon it:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>I am taking out of this money belonging to +the Dixie Queen the five hundred dollars Sautee +promised me for carrying the money to the mine, +and the two thousand dollars reward offered for +the capture of those who had been robbing the +Dixie Queen. I expect that shortly after this +gets into the proper hands Sautee will be in jail, +and he will be handy to tell you this is all O. K.</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>Rathburn</span>.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></div> +<p>Mannix took up the reward notice, put it with the +note, and jammed the two pieces of paper into an +obscure pigeonhole in his desk.</p> +<p>“Filed!” he said aloud.</p> +<p>Then he rose with a peculiar smile, went out upon +the little porch, and stared toward the east where +the reflection of the sunset cast a rosy glow over the +foothills leading down to the desert.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI_THE_PRODIGAL' id='CHAPTER_XXVI_THE_PRODIGAL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<h3>THE PRODIGAL</h3> +</div> +<p>With face upraised to the breath of air which +stirred across the bare black lava hills, Rathburn +leaned forward in the saddle eagerly, while his +dun-colored horse stood patiently, seemingly in accord +with his master’s mood. A merciless sun beat +down from a hot, cloudless sky.</p> +<p>Below, stretching in endless miles was the desert––a +sinister, forbidding land of desolate distances, +marked only by slender yucca palms, mesquite, dusty +greasewood, an occasional clump of green palo verde, +the slim fingers of the ocatilla, the high “forks” of +the giant sahuara, and clumps of la cholla cactus, +looking like apple orchards in full bloom.</p> +<p>Yet the man’s gaze fell for a moment lovingly on +each species of cactus and desert vegetation; his look +was that which dwells in the homesick eyes of a +traveler when he sees his native land from the deck +of an inbound ship.</p> +<p>“Hoss, we’re home!” he said aloud, while the +animal pricked up its ears.</p> +<p>Then he looked off to the left, where the blue outlines +of a low range of mountains wavered in the +heat like a mirage.</p> +<p>“Imagination Range,” he said moodily.</p> +<p>He tickled the dun with his spurs and trotted +along the crest of the lava ridge. At its eastern +terminus he swung down into the desert and struck +straight east in the direction of Imagination Range. +The desert’s surface between the lava ridge and the +higher hills of the range to eastward was cut by dry +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +washes and arroyos and miniature ridges studded +with giant cactus.</p> +<p>On the top of one of these high rises the horseman +suddenly reined in his mount and stared into the +south. “There’s trouble––an’ spelled with a capital +T!” he ejaculated.</p> +<p>The gaze in his keen gray eyes centered upon a +number of riders speeding their horses over the tumbled +section of desert below him to his right. He +made out two divisions of horsemen. One group +was some distance ahead of the other. Even as he +stared down at them, its group separated, and some +rode for Imagination Range, while others hastened +toward the lava hills, or due north in his direction. +The second group halted for a brief spell, evidently +for a conference, and then its members also divided +and started in swift pursuit of the men ahead.</p> +<p>The watcher on the top of the rise frowned.</p> +<p>“Out of here, hoss,” he said sharply. “This ain’t +our day for visitors.”</p> +<p>He pushed on eastward, increasing its pace, but +losing time in skirting the frequent bits of high +ground. As he rode down into a deep arroyo, a +horseman came galloping into its lower end and +raced almost upon him before seeing him. His hand +darted like lightning to his gun, and the weapon +snapped into aim at his hip. The horseman came to +a rearing halt, reins dangling, his hands held high, +his eyes bulging from their sockets.</p> +<p>“Rathburn!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“The same,” said the man with the gun. “What’s +all the disturbance down there?”</p> +<p>“Bob Long is chasing us,” the other answered with +a nervous grin.</p> +<p>“As I remember it,” drawled Rathburn, “Bob Long +is the sheriff of Mesquite County. You boys sure +ain’t been misbehaving?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></div> +<p>“It’s worse than that,” said the fugitive, staring +doubtfully at his questioner. “The stage driver’s +dead. Had a notion the boss was foolin’ when he +told him to reach up for the bugs in the air.”</p> +<p>“Who does the boss happen to be in this case?”</p> +<p>The man hesitated.</p> +<p>“Take your time,” said Rathburn sarcastically; +“there’s nobody after you but the sheriff, an’ he +probably won’t be along for a minute or two.”</p> +<p>“It won’t do <i>you</i> no good for him to find us here,” +said the other boldly.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes blazed. “I reckon you’re forgettin’ +that Bob Long knows I travel alone,” he said +hotly. “He savvys I don’t travel with a crowd. I +ain’t found it necessary so far, an’ I ain’t aiming to +start. I counted eight in your gang––to hold up one +stage, eh?” He concluded with a sneer, while the +other shifted nervously in his saddle and cast a quick +look back over his shoulder. There seemed no one +there.</p> +<p>“You needn’t be lookin’ around,” Rathburn said +coldly. “You’re goin’ to stay here till you answer +my question, if all the sheriffs in Arizona come +ridin’ up meanwhile. Who’s headin’ your gang?”</p> +<p>“That ain’t professional,” the fugitive grumbled. +“You’re just the same as one of us.”</p> +<p>Then, seeing the look that came into Rathburn’s +eyes, he said hastily: “Mike Eagen planned the lay.”</p> +<p>“I guessed it,” said Rathburn in a tone of contempt. +“Well, you better slope while you’ve still got +a chance.”</p> +<p>He motioned to the man to go, and the latter +rode at a gallop up the arroyo and out of sight. +Rathburn’s face wore a worried scowl, as he slid his +gun into its holster, whirled his horse, and speedily +climbed the east side of the arroyo.</p> +<p>From a vantage point he caught sight again of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +the horsemen racing up from the south. They were +much nearer, and he could readily make out the +members of the sheriff’s posse. He had had experience +with posses before.</p> +<p>Striking around the crest of the high ground which +formed the east side of the arroyo, he again raced +toward the range of mountains in the east, taking advantage +of every bit of cover which offered concealment +from the riders approaching at top speed from +the south.</p> +<p>Occasional glances made it plain that the sheriff +was sending, or personally bringing, most of his +posse east in the direction of the mountains, presumably +in the hope of cutting off the outlaws from +seeking refuge in the hills. But the mountains were +Rathburn’s goal as well as the goal of a majority of +Mike Eagen’s band, though for totally different reasons. +He refused to change his direction, although +by going north, the stout, speedy dun could doubtless +outdistance the posse before the afternoon was spent.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s teeth snapped shut, his jaw squared, +and his eyes narrowed, as he saw indubitable signs +that he had been detected. Two of the posse were +waving their arms and dashing in his direction. At +that distance they could not identify him, but under +the circumstances such identification was unnecessary. +His presence there, riding like mad, was certain to +convince the pursuers that he was one of the gang +responsible for the stage job. This was obvious.</p> +<p>For good reasons, Rathburn did not want it generally +known that he was back in a country where +he had spent most of his life, and where he was +branded as a desperate outlaw with a big price on +his head. Consequently, seeing that the sheriff’s +men were out to get him, he abandoned all attempt at +concealment, drove in his spurs, gave the dun horse +its head, and raced for the mountains.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></div> +<p>Other members of the posse who were farther to +the east caught the signals of the two who were in +hot pursuit of Rathburn, and they dashed north to +cut him off. The outlaws had disappeared, and +Rathburn shook his head savagely, as he realized +they had sought cover when they saw the chase was +directed at one man. Without having had a hand in +the holdup of the stage, he had arrived on the spot +just in time to draw the fire of the authorities. And +fire it was now; for the men behind him had begun +shooting in the hope of a chance hit at the distance.</p> +<p>A scant mile separated him from his goal. He +came to a level stretch which was almost a mass of +green because of the clumps of palo verde. Here he +urged the dun to its utmost, outdistanced the pair +in his rear, and gained on the men riding from the +south, almost ahead of him. He swerved a bit to +the north and cut straight for a notch in the mountains. +He smiled, as he approached it, and saw a +narrow defile leading into the hills. He gained it in +a final, heartbreaking burst of speed on the part of +his mount. As he dashed into the cañon, bullets +sang past him and over his head. Then a cry of +amazement came to his ears.</p> +<p>“It’s The Coyote!” a man was yelling. “Rathburn’s +back!”</p> +<p>He dashed into the shelter of the defile, a grim +smile playing on his lips. He had been recognized. +His face hardened. He rounded a huge boulder, +checked his horse, and dismounted. He could hear +the pound of hoofs in the entrance of the narrow +cañon. A rider came into view below.</p> +<p>Rathburn leaned out from the protection of the +boulder. His lips were pressed into a fine, white line, +and there was a look of haunted worry in his eyes. +His gun flashed in his hand. The rider saw him +and yelled, spurring his horse. Then Rathburn’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +gun swung quickly upward. A sharp report sounded, +like a crash of thunder in the narrow confines of the +cañon, and its echoes reverberated through the hills.</p> +<p>The rider toppled in his saddle and fell to the +floor of the cañon. His horse came to a snorting +stop, reins dangling, all four legs braced. The hoof-beats +instantly were stilled. A silence, complete and +sinister, reigned in the defile.</p> +<p>Rathburn slipped his smoking gun into his holster +and mounted noiselessly. Then he walked his horse +slowly up the cañon, sitting sidewise in the saddle to +keep a vigil on the trail behind. A minute later he +heard a volley of shots below, the signal to all the +scattered members of the posse to race to the entrance +of the cañon. He increased his pace, broke +his gun, extracted the empty shell, and inserted a +fresh cartridge in its place.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_DESERT_CODE' id='CHAPTER_XXVII_THE_DESERT_CODE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<h3>THE DESERT CODE</h3> +</div> +<p>Keeping to the trail, Rathburn mounted higher +and higher and spoke continually to his horse in +a crooning tone of encouragement. His face was +drawn in grim lines, his eyes were constantly alert, +his very posture in the saddle showed that his nerves +were at high tension.</p> +<p>He ignored dim paths which occasionally led off +to the left or right in rifts in the sheer, black walls +of the narrow cañon. No sound came to him from +below. He knew the posse would have to proceed +with the utmost caution, for the sheriff and his men +could not be sure that they would not encounter him +at some bend in the trail. They would be expecting +shots from every boulder; for Rathburn had let +them know he had no intention of being taken easily +or alive.</p> +<p>The afternoon wore on, with Rathburn steadily +penetrating the very heart of Imagination Range. +Finally he swung out of the cañon trail and took a +dim path to the right. He dismounted and walked +back to rub off the scars left by his horse’s shoes on +the rock floor of the side trail. Satisfied that he +would leave the members of the posse confused as +to which side trail he had taken, he returned to his +horse, mounted, and proceeded up the narrow trail +leading to the top of the range to the south of the +deep cañon.</p> +<p>In the western sky the sun was low when he rode +down the crest of the range. The mountains were +devoid of vegetation, bleak and bare and black. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +lava rock seemed to absorb the heat of the sun and +throw it in the rider’s face. But Rathburn didn’t +appear to mind it.</p> +<p>He crossed the backbone of the range and began +the descent on the eastern side. But he descended +only a short distance before he swung out of the +saddle. From the slicker pack on the rear of his +saddle he took a pair of heavy leather gloves. He +cut these open in the palms with his pocketknife and +then tied them about the shoes on his horse’s hind +feet. The dun was only shod behind.</p> +<p>Again he mounted, and this time he turned to the +south and rode down a long slope of lava rock. He +grunted with satisfaction, as he looked behind and +saw that the leather prevented the shoes on his +mount’s hind feet from leaving their mark. He was +completely obliterating his trail––leaving nothing for +the posse to follow, if they should trace him to the +top of the range.</p> +<p>He walked his horse slowly, for the dun did not +like the idea of the leather tied to its hoofs. In less +than two miles the leather was worn through upon +the hard rock, and he got down and removed the +remnants. He straightened up and looked out over +the vista of the desert.</p> +<p>The western sky was a sea of gold. Far to southward +a curl of smoke rose upward, marking the +course of a railroad and a town. Rathburn looked +long in this direction, with a dreamy, wistful light in +his eyes. Close at hand vegetation appeared upon +the slopes of the hills. His gaze darted here and +there along the ridges below him, and his parted lips +and eager attitude showed unmistakably that he was +familiar with every rod of the locality in which he +found himself.</p> +<p>Again he climbed into the saddle and turned off to +the left, entering a cañon. For better than half a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +mile he proceeded down this way, then he rode eastward +again, winding in and out in a network of +cañons until he came to the rock-ribbed crest of a +ridge which overlooked an oasis in the desert hills. +There was green vegetation where the water from +a spring seeped into the floor of the cañon below +him. The spring was nothing more than a huge cup +in the rock which had caught the water from the +spring rains and filled. Above the spring was a +small cabin, and Rathburn saw that the cabin door +was open.</p> +<p>Hurriedly he rode down a trail to the right which +circled around into the cañon from its lower end. +As he galloped toward the spring, a figure appeared +in the doorway of the cabin. Rathburn waved an +arm and dismounted at the spring. He led his horse +to drink, as the man came walking toward him from +the cabin. He compelled the dun to drink slowly; +first a swallow, now two, then a few more; finally he +drew the horse away from the water.</p> +<p>“You can have some more a little later,” he said +cheerfully. “Hello, Joe Price!”</p> +<p>The man walked up to him without a great show +of surprise and held out his hand. He was bareheaded, +and the hair which hung down to his shoulders +was snow-white. The face was seamed and +lined, burned by the sun of three score Arizona summers, +and the small, blue eyes twinkled.</p> +<p>“Hang me with a busted shoe string if it ain’t +Rathburn,” said the old man. “Why, boy, you’re +just in time for supper. Put your horse up behind +the cabin an’ get in at the table. She’s a big country, +all full of cactus; but the old man’s got grub +left!”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed, rinsed his mouth out with +water he dipped from the spring in a battered tin +cup, and took a swallow before he replied.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></div> +<p>“Joe, there’s two things I want––grub an’ gaff. +I know you’ve got grub, or you wouldn’t be here; +but I don’t know if you’re any good at the gaff any +more.”</p> +<p>The old man scrutinized him. “You look some +older,” he said finally. “Not much of the wild, +galootin’ kid left in you, I ’spect. But don’t go +gettin’ fresh with me, or I’ll clout you one with my +prospectin’ pick. Go ’long now; put up your horse +an’ hustle inside. If you want to wash up, I guess +you can––bein’ a visitor.”</p> +<p>Rathburn chuckled, as he led his horse around behind +the cabin, where two burros were, and unsaddled +him. Before he entered the cabin he stood +for a moment looking up the ridge down which he +had come. The old man watched him, but made no +comment. As Rathburn sat down to the table, however, +he spoke.</p> +<p>“I kin hear anybody comin’ down that trail over +the ridge, while they’re a mile away,” he said simply +without looking up.</p> +<p>Rathburn flashed a look of admiration at the old +man.</p> +<p>The glow of the sunset lit the hills with crimson +fire, and a light breeze stirred with the advent of the +long, colorful desert twilight. They ate in silence, +washing down the hardy food with long drafts of +strong coffee. The old man asked no questions of his +friend. He knew that in time Rathburn would talk. +A man’s business in that desolate land of dreadful +distances was his own, save such of it as he wanted +to tell. It was the desert code.</p> +<p>Supper over, they went out to a little bench in +front of the cabin. There Joe Price lit his pipe, and +Rathburn rolled a cigarette.</p> +<p>For some time they smoked in silence. The purple +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +twilight drifted over the hills, and the breeze freshened +in welcome relief to the heat of the day.</p> +<p>“Joe, I just had to come back,” said Rathburn +softly. “Something’s wrong with me. You wouldn’t +think I’d get homesick this way, after all the trouble +I’ve had here, would you?”</p> +<p>The old man removed his pipe. “Anybody here in +particular you want to see?” he asked slowly.</p> +<p>Rathburn shrugged. “You’re always gettin’ right +down to cases first hand off an’ running,” he complained. +“Of course there’s folks I want to see. I +want to see you, for instance.”</p> +<p>“I don’t reckon you’d be ridin’ any terrible great +distance an’ takin’ chances by the handful just to see +me, boy,” said Price. “But I ain’t tryin’ to pry into +your affairs. You don’t have to answer any of the +fool questions I ask you––you know that. I’m an old +man an’ gettin’ childish.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed. “I can believe that when I find +you still putterin’ around up here where there ain’t +even a sign of mineral,” he chided.</p> +<p>“There’s gold right under your feet,” said the old +man stoutly. “I’ll have a payin’ vein opened up here +in less’n three months.”</p> +<p>“I hope so, Joe. There’s nobody I’d like more to +see make a big strike than you. You were my dad’s +friend, an’ you’ve been mine. I haven’t got many +friends, Joe.”</p> +<p>“But them you’ve got is good ones,” said Price +quickly. “How long you been away?”</p> +<p>“About eight months,” Rathburn replied with a +frown.</p> +<p>“It’s hard to get away from the desert,” mused the +old man. “It’s in your blood. If you leave here for +good you’ve just naturally got to take something +along with you from here––something that’s a part +of the desert, you might say.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></div> +<p>Rathburn looked keenly at the face of his friend. +But the old man was regarding his pipe, as if he had +never until that moment seen it.</p> +<p>“I ran into a posse chasin’ a gang that robbed a +stage on the way over here this noon,” Rathburn +said presently.</p> +<p>Price’s interest quickened, but he made no sign. +“They saw you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Couldn’t help it,” Rathburn grumbled. “Took +after me. I had to drop one of ’em with a bullet in +the shoulder to slow ’em up in the long cañon over +on the other side.”</p> +<p>“Know any of the gang?” Price asked.</p> +<p>“Met one. Threw down my gun on him. He told +me Mike Eagen was runnin’ the works.”</p> +<p>Price nodded. “I reckon Mike’s been pullin’ +quite a few stunts while you been away.”</p> +<p>“An’ I’ve been gettin’ the blame for ’em more’n +likely,” said Rathburn in indignation.</p> +<p>Price nodded again. “Might be so,” he commented.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked up at him in understanding. +“They’ll have me mixed up with this stage holdup,” +he said earnestly. “From what I gathered they +killed the driver, an’ they’ll say that was my part.”</p> +<p>“That’s the trouble, boy,” said the old miner. “If +a fellow’s handy with his gun somebody’s sure to get +jealous of him an’ make him draw. If he gets his +man because he has to, he’s a killer. When he’s +known as a killer he ain’t got a chance. You <i>had</i> to +drop the two men you dropped aroun’ here, boy; but +they ain’t forgettin’ it.”</p> +<p>“Bob Long was headin’ that posse,” said Rathburn +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“An’ Bob Long’s a sticker when he hits out on a +man’s trail,” said Price. “Still, I guess you’d be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +safe in here for a while. There ain’t many knows +this place.”</p> +<p>“I don’t figure on stayin’ here long, Joe,” said +Rathburn.</p> +<p>“I didn’t think you did,” said Price.</p> +<p>“I’ll have to get goin’––hit for new country an’ +never know when I may run up against the law in a +quarter where I ain’t expecting it; always sneaking +along––like the coyote. It was Mike Eagen who +gave me that name, Joe.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s voice was low and vibrant, and the old +man felt the menacing quality in it.</p> +<p>“What’s more,” Rathburn went on, “I’m always +remembering that he’s back here, getting away with +his dirty tricks, shoving the blame off on me, some +way or other, when the chase gets too hot.”</p> +<p>For some time the old man was silent. When he +spoke he put an arm about Rathburn’s shoulder.</p> +<p>“Boy, before you get worse mixed up than you are, +there’s a place you ought to visit aroun’ here,” he +said in a fatherly tone.</p> +<p>Rathburn shrugged and stared up at the night sky +which was blossoming with stars.</p> +<p>“It would be a right smart risk,” Price went on, +“for they’d maybe think to drop aroun’ that way on +a lookout for you; but I reckon before you do much +more, you better drop in at the Mallory place.”</p> +<p>Rathburn rose abruptly. “I guess that’s what I +came up here to hear you say,” he said irritably. +“But I don’t reckon it can be done, Joe. I haven’t +any business there.”</p> +<p>“How do you know, boy? Maybe you ain’t bein’ +right fair.”</p> +<p>“Seems to me it would look better for me to stay +away.”</p> +<p>“They don’t <i>have</i> to see you,” urged the old man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +“The Mallory place is a good fifteen miles from +Hope, close up against the mountains. Boy, don’t +you think you better make sure?”</p> +<p>The wistful, yearning look was back in Rathburn’s +eyes. His right hand rested upon the butt of his +gun. The other held his forgotten cigarette. He +turned and looked into the old man’s eyes.</p> +<p>“Joe, you said something about takin’ something +from the desert if I left it. You’re right. But it +can’t be, Joe. This thing has killed my chances!”</p> +<p>The gun seemed to leap from its holster into his +hand at his hip of its own accord. The old miner’s +brows lifted in astonishment at the draw.</p> +<p>“If I was you I wouldn’t be much scared who I +met on the way down to the Mallory place if I +didn’t meet too many of ’em at once,” he said with +a smile.</p> +<p>“I––I couldn’t wear it––there,” Rathburn faltered.</p> +<p>“Well, leave it hangin’ on a handy peg, boy,” said +the old man cheerfully.</p> +<p>Rathburn jammed the gun back into its holster and +walked around to his horse. He led the animal +down to drink and then returned and saddled.</p> +<p>“You goin’ on to-night?” asked Price casually.</p> +<p>“I’m takin’ a ride,” Rathburn confessed.</p> +<p>“You ain’t takin’ my advice at the same time, are +you?” asked Price, pretending to be greatly concerned.</p> +<p>Rathburn mounted and looked down upon him in +the faint light of the stars.</p> +<p>“Joe Price, you’re a wise old desert rat, an’ I’m a +young fool,” he said with a twinkle in his gray eyes. +“If Bob Long happens this way give him my regards +an’ tell him they got the reward notices over +in California all right, for I saw ’em stuck up over +there. So long.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></div> +<p>The old miner called out after him and watched +him ride down the cañon and disappear in the shadows. +Nor was he the only watcher; for, high on the +ridge above, another man touched his horse with his +spurs and started down the west side of the range, +as Rathburn vanished.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII_A_NIGHT_SUMMONS' id='CHAPTER_XXVIII_A_NIGHT_SUMMONS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<h3>A NIGHT SUMMONS</h3> +</div> +<p>In two hours Rathburn came to a fence about a +small ranch. Cattle were grazing on the sparse +feed within the inclosure, and he saw a clump of +trees marking the site of a house.</p> +<p>He rode around the fence until he came to a gate. +There was a light shining from two of the windows +of the house. He passed through the gate, and, as +he approached the house from the side, he saw two +figures on the porch. He halted in the shelter of the +trees, and, as one of the figures crossed the beam of +light which shone out the door, he saw that it was a +man. He obtained a fleeting look at the man’s face. +He was comparatively young, not bad looking, with +blue eyes and a small, close-cropped, sandy mustache.</p> +<p>Rathburn scratched his head in an effort to place +the man. He seemed vaguely familiar. Rathburn +was sure he had seen him somewhere. But he gave +up the futile effort to identify him when he saw that +the other figure on the porch was that of a girl.</p> +<p>Dismounting, he led his horse around to the rear +and put him in a corral near the barn. He surmised +that it was about ten o’clock. As he walked toward +the front of the house, again he heard the sputtering +of a small motor car; then he saw the path of light +from its headlights go streaking across the desert in +the direction of the town to southward. The front +door closed, and all was still.</p> +<p>Rathburn hesitated for several moments, then he +stamped up the porch steps and knocked at the door. +It was opened by a girl. She held a lighted lamp in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +her hand. When she saw Rathburn standing, hat in +hand, before her, her dark eyes widened, and she +nearly dropped the lamp. He stepped forward quickly +and took it from her.</p> +<p>“Roger!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “You––here?”</p> +<p>“I’m here, Laura,” he said quietly. “I’m home on +a––a visit.”</p> +<p>“I heard you were back,” she faltered. “Mr. +Doane––that is––a gentleman from town told me he +had heard you were back. But–––”</p> +<p>She scanned his face closely and peered beyond +him into the shadows with visible concern.</p> +<p>“Roger, come in quickly,” she invited, stepping +back from the door.</p> +<p>With a faint smile he entered and closed the door +after him. He put the lamp down on the table in +what was evidently the sitting room of the small +house. He looked about him with the air of one who +sees familiar surroundings, but is embarrassed by +them.</p> +<p>“Some one been tellin’ you the details of my arrival?” +he asked with an effort to appear casual.</p> +<p>“I heard you were in some trouble, Roger.” The +girl continued to stare at him with a queer expression +in her fine eyes––part sorrow, part concern, part +gladness.</p> +<p>“I’m not a stranger to trouble these days, Laura,” +he said soberly.</p> +<p>There was a sob in the girl’s throat, but she recovered +herself at once.</p> +<p>“Have you eaten?” she asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Up at Joe Price’s place,” he replied. “All fed and +chipper.”</p> +<p>There was not much confidence in his tone or +manner. As the girl lowered her gaze, he looked at +her hungrily; his eyes feasted on the coils of dark +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +hair, her long, black lashes, the curve of her cheek +and her delicate color, the full, ruby lips, and the +small, quivering chin. She was in the throes of a +strong emotion.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, Laura, if––you didn’t want me to +come,” he said unsteadily.</p> +<p>“Oh, Roger! Of course we want you to come. +It’s been so long since we saw you. And you’ve––you’ve +gone through so much.”</p> +<p>She raised her eyes, and the expression which he +saw in their depths caused him to look away and to +bite his lips.</p> +<p>“There’s a lot of it I wish I could undo, Laura; +an’ there’s a lot more of it I couldn’t help, an’ maybe +some I––I––wasn’t–––” He paused. He couldn’t +bring himself to say anything in extenuation of himself +and his acts in the presence of this girl. It +might sound as if he were playing for her sympathy, +he thought to himself.</p> +<p>“Roger, I know you haven’t done all the things I’ve +heard about,” she said bravely. “And there’s always +a chance. You’re a man. You can find a way out. +If the trails seem all twisted and tangled, you can +use a compass––your own conscience, Roger. You +still have that.”</p> +<p>“How did you happen to mention the trails bein’ +all mixed up like that?” he asked curiously.</p> +<p>“Why––I don’t know. Isn’t that the way it +seems?”</p> +<p>Rathburn looked away with a frown. “You come +near hittin’ the nail on the head, Laura.”</p> +<p>“Oh, then you <i>are</i> beginning to think!” she said +eagerly.</p> +<p>“I’ve done nothing but think for months,” Rathburn +confessed.</p> +<p>She looked at him searchingly. Then her eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +dropped to the black butt of the gun in the holster +strapped to his right thigh. She shuddered slightly.</p> +<p>“You came from the west, Roger?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he replied shortly. “From where there’s +water an’ timber an’ flowers an’ grass––but they had +my number there, just the same as they’ve got it +here. I’m a marked man, Laura Mallory.”</p> +<p>She leaned upon the table with one hand; the +other she held upon her breast.</p> +<p>“Are––are they––after you, Roger?” she asked in +a low, anxious tone.</p> +<p>“As usual,” he answered with a vague laugh. +“Laura, I didn’t come here to bother you with my +troubles; I come here just to see <i>you</i>.”</p> +<p>The girl colored. “I know, Roger. We’ve known +each other a long time––since we were children. You +wouldn’t like it for me not to show any concern over +your troubles, would you?”</p> +<p>“I wish we could talk about something else,” said +Rathburn. “I can’t stay long.”</p> +<p>Laura Mallory looked worried. “May I ask where +you plan to go, Roger?”</p> +<p>“I’m not sure. I only know I wanted to come +back, an’ I came. I hadn’t any fixed plans, an’ I +wasn’t expecting the reception I got.” His face +clouded. Then he looked straight into the girl’s eyes. +“I hit this country this morning,” he said steadily. +“The first folks I saw was some men ridin’ in my +direction up between the lava hills and the range. +Then things began to happen.”</p> +<p>She nodded brightly. “I believe you,” she said +simply.</p> +<p>Rathburn smiled. “You aways did that, Laura, +an’ I ain’t never been much of a hand at lying.”</p> +<p>“Roger,” she said quickly, “if they all knew you +as well as I think I know you–––”</p> +<p>“They wouldn’t believe,” he interrupted. “They +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +call me The Coyote, an’ they’ll have me live up to the +name whether I want to or not,” he added bitterly.</p> +<p>“But, Roger, you’re forgetting what I said about +the trails and the compass.”</p> +<p>“No, Laura, I’m not, but there’s another force besides +the big lodestone that’s affectin’ that compass.”</p> +<p>“Roger, you’re thinking of an enemy!”</p> +<p>He did not answer her. His face appeared grim, +almost haggard, in the yellow rays of the lamplight.</p> +<p>“Roger, you once promised me anything I might +ask,” she said softly.</p> +<p>“An’ all you have to do is ask,” he answered, taking +a step toward her.</p> +<p>“I’m going to ask you for something, Roger,” she +said without looking at him. “Maybe you’ll think it’s––it’s +too much that I ask.” She glanced up at him +doubtfully.</p> +<p>“What is it, Laura?” he insisted.</p> +<p>“I want your gun, Roger,” she whispered.</p> +<p>He straightened and stared at her in startled wonder. +“But, Laura––a man in my position––why––why––where +would I be at?”</p> +<p>“Maybe if you gave it to me it would help you +find a way out, Roger,” she pleaded earnestly.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked into her eyes and thrilled. Then +without a word he unbuckled his cartridge belt which +held his holstered gun, untied the strap about his +thigh and laid the belt with the weapon upon the +table.</p> +<p>“Roger!” said the girl. The sob again was in her +voice. She reached out and placed a hand upon his +arm.</p> +<p>An elderly man appeared in the doorway from the +kitchen.</p> +<p>“Father, this is Roger,” said the girl hurriedly. +“He’s back.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></div> +<p>“What’s that? Roger, eh? You mean Rathburn +is here?”</p> +<p>The old man peered at the visitor from the doorway, +his lean face twitching. He stroked his gray +beard in indecision. His blue eyes looked long at +Rathburn, then at the girl, and lastly at the gun and +belt on the table.</p> +<p>“Well, hello, Rathburn,” he said finally, advancing +into the room. He held out a hand which Rathburn +grasped.</p> +<p>“Did you eat yet?” asked Mallory.</p> +<p>“In the hills with Joe Price,” replied Rathburn. +“But I’m just as much obliged.”</p> +<p>“Yes, of course,” Mallory muttered. “With Joe, +eh? He ain’t been down in months. How is he?”</p> +<p>“Looks good as a gold mine an’ thinks he’s found +one,” said Rathburn, looking at the girl’s father +curiously.</p> +<p>“That’s what keeps him up,” Mallory asserted +loudly. “He’ll never get old as long as he thinks he’s +got a mine corralled. He ought to try stock raisin’ +for a while. You look older, Rathburn––more filled +out. Are you still cutting ’em high, wide, an’ handsome?”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face clouded.</p> +<p>“Roger’s starting new, dad,” the girl interposed.</p> +<p>Mallory stared keenly at the younger man. He +started to speak, but was interrupted by the sound +of horses outside the house.</p> +<p>Rathburn whirled toward the door, took a step, +and stopped in his tracks. The girl’s hands flew to +the sides of her face, and her eyes widened with apprehension.</p> +<p>“I’ll go see who it is,” said Mallory with a quick +look at Rathburn.</p> +<p>He hastened out into the kitchen, and a moment +later they heard the kitchen door open. There was a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +murmur of voices. The girl stared at Rathburn +breathlessly, while he tapped with his slim fingers +upon the top of the table.</p> +<p>Then Mallory came in. “Somebody to see you,” +he said to Rathburn.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked once at the white-faced girl and +followed her father out into the kitchen. She heard +them speak in an undertone, and then Rathburn +came back into the room.</p> +<p>“I ain’t much elated over my visitor,” he said +slowly. “I wish you hadn’t asked me what you did +until––well, until this caller had come an’ gone.”</p> +<p>She looked straight into his eyes in an agony of +dread.</p> +<p>“Who is it, Roger?” she asked, wetting her lips.</p> +<p>“Mike Eagen is out there,” he answered calmly.</p> +<p>She drew a quick breath, while he waited. Then +he turned on his heel and started for the kitchen +door.</p> +<p>“Roger!” she called.</p> +<p>He swung about and eyed her questioningly. She +pointed at the heavy belt and gun on the table.</p> +<p>“Take it,” she whispered.</p> +<p>He buckled on the belt and tied down the end of +the holster so it could not slip if he should draw the +weapon within it. Then he made his way into the +kitchen and out of the rear door. Laura Mallory +sank into a chair, sobbing.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIX_GUNMEN' id='CHAPTER_XXIX_GUNMEN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +<h3>GUNMEN</h3> +</div> +<p>For a moment Rathburn waited at the kitchen +door. He heard Mallory going upstairs from +the next room. All was still outside, save for the +stamping of several horses. Then he suddenly opened +the door and stepped out. There was no sound or +movement, as he accustomed his eyes to the dim +light without. He moved across the threshold and +walked straight to a bulky figure standing beside a +large horse.</p> +<p>“You want to see me, Eagen?” he asked coldly.</p> +<p>“Watch out there, Eagen!” came Mallory’s voice +in a strident tone from a window above them. “I’ve +got you covered with this Winchester!”</p> +<p>Both Rathburn and Eagen looked up and saw +Mallory leaning out of a window over the kitchen, +and the stock of a rifle was snug against his cheek +and shoulder.</p> +<p>“Acts like he’s scared you can’t take care of yourself,” +said Eagen with a sneer. “The way you +ditched that posse to-day I didn’t think you needed +a bodyguard.”</p> +<p>“I don’t,” Rathburn retorted. “The old man is +acting on his own hook. You was watching the +sport to-day?”</p> +<p>“Couldn’t help it,” said Eagen. “It was me an’ +some of the boys they was after. You sort of +helped us out by coming along an’ attracting their +attention. I pegged you when I saw you ride for it, +an’ I knew they wouldn’t get you.”</p> +<p>“You mean you hid an’ let me stand the gaff,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +said Rathburn scornfully. “That’s your style, +Eagen. You’re plumb afraid to come out from under +cover.”</p> +<p>He noted that there were three men with Eagen. +They were quietly sitting their horses some little distance +behind their leader.</p> +<p>Eagen muttered something, and Rathburn could +see his face working with rage. Then Eagen’s +coarse features underwent a change, and he grinned, +his teeth flashing white under his small, black mustache.</p> +<p>“Look here, Rathburn, there’s no use in you an’ +me being on the outs,” he said in an undertone. +“We’ve got something in common.”</p> +<p>“You’ve made a mistake already,” Rathburn interrupted +sharply. “We haven’t a thing in common I +know of, Eagen, unless it’s a gun apiece.”</p> +<p>“Maybe you think that’s all we need,” said Eagen +hoarsely; “an’ if that’s the way you feel you won’t +find me backin’ down when you start something. +Just now I ain’t forgetting that crazy fool with that +rifle up there.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t come here for a gun play, Eagen,” +said Rathburn. “You ain’t plumb loco <i>every</i> way. +I take it you saw me makin’ for this place an’ followed +me here. What do you want?”</p> +<p>“I want to talk business,” said Eagen with a hopeful +note in his voice; “but you won’t let me get +started.”</p> +<p>“An’ I won’t have dealings with you,” said Rathburn +crisply.</p> +<p>“That’s what you think,” sneered Eagen. “But +you’re in a tight corner, an’ we can help you out. +Long said to-day, I heard just now, that he’d put +every deputy he had an’ every man he could swear +in as a special on your trail, and he’d get you.”</p> +<p>“The thing that I can’t see,” drawled Rathburn, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +“is what that’s got to do with you. I suppose you’re +here as a missionary to tip me off. Thanks.”</p> +<p>Eagen had calmed down. He stepped closer to +Rathburn and spoke in a low tone.</p> +<p>“Here’s the lay: They’re after you, an’ they’re +after us. I know you’re no stool pigeon, an’ I know +I ain’t takin’ a chance when I tell you that we’ve got +a big job comin’ up––one that’ll get us a pretty roll. +It takes nerve to pull it off, even though certain +things will make it easier. You might just as well +be in on it. You can make it a last job an’ blow +these parts for good. You don’t have to come in, of +course; but it’ll be worth your while. You’ve got +the name, an’ you might as well have what goes with +it. I’ll let you head the outfit an’ shoot square all +the way.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed scornfully. “When I heard you +was out here, Eagen, I guessed it was something like +this that brought you here. Maybe you’re statin’ +facts as to this job which, you say, is coming up. +But you lied when you said you’d shoot square, +Eagen. I wouldn’t trust you as far as you could +throw a bull by the tail, an’ there’s half a dozen other +reasons why you an’ me couldn’t be pardners!”</p> +<p>Eagen stepped back with a snarl of rage. “I don’t +reckon you’re entitled to what rep you’ve got!” he +blurted hoarsely. “Right down under the skin, +Rathburn, I believe you’re soft!”</p> +<p>“That’s puttin’ it up to me all fair an’ square,” +Rathburn replied evenly. “I’ll give it right back to +you, Eagen.”</p> +<p>“Get that gun out of the window.”</p> +<p>“Mallory.”</p> +<p>“Right here, Rathburn, an’ all set,” came Mallory’s +voice.</p> +<p>“Get that gun out of the window.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></div> +<p>“What’s that? Don’t you see there’s three of ’em? +You–––”</p> +<p>“Get that gun out of the window!” rang Rathburn’s +voice.</p> +<p>“Let him play with it,” Eagen said harshly.</p> +<p>Mallory withdrew from the window, as Eagen +reached for his left stirrup and swung into the +saddle.</p> +<p>“I see you ain’t takin’ it,” Rathburn called to him +with a jeering laugh.</p> +<p>“An’ I ain’t forgettin’ it?” Eagen shouted, as he +drove in his spurs.</p> +<p>His three companions galloped after him, and +Rathburn caught sight of a dark-skinned face, a pair +of beady, black eyes, and the long, drooping mustaches +of one of the men.</p> +<p>“Gomez!” he exclaimed to himself. “Eagen’s +takin’ up with the Mexicans.”</p> +<p>Mallory appeared in the kitchen door, holding a +lamp above his head. “What’d he want?” he demanded +of Rathburn.</p> +<p>“More’n he got,” answered Rathburn shortly. +Then he saw Laura Mallory standing behind her +father.</p> +<p>“I mean to say he made a little proposition that +I had to turn down,” he amended, with a direct +glance at the girl. “An’ now I’ve got to do some +more ridin’.”</p> +<p>“You leavin’ to-night?” asked Mallory in surprise. +“We can put you up here, Rathburn, an’ I’ll keep +an eye out for visitors.”</p> +<p>“And we’d have ’em afore mornin’,” said Rathburn +grimly. “Eagen will see to it that Bob Long +knows I was out here, right pronto. But I aim +to stop any posses from botherin’ around your place. +If there’s one thing I don’t want to do, Mallory, +it’s make any trouble for you.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></div> +<p>The girl came walking toward him and touched +his arm.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do, Roger?” she asked +in an anxious voice.</p> +<p>“I’m goin’ straight into Hope,” Rathburn replied.</p> +<p>“But, Roger,” the girl faltered, “won’t that mean––mean–––”</p> +<p>“A show-down? Maybe so. I ain’t side-steppin’ +it.”</p> +<p>A world of worry showed in the girl’s eyes. +“Roger, why don’t you go away?” she asked hesitatingly. +“Things could be worse, and maybe in +time they would become better. Folks forget, +Roger.”</p> +<p>For a moment Rathburn’s hand rested on hers, +as he looked down at her.</p> +<p>“There’s two ways of forgettin’, girlie,” he said +soberly. “An’ I don’t want ’em to forget me +the wrong way.”</p> +<p>“But, Roger, promise me you won’t––won’t––turn +your gun against a man, Roger. It would +make things so much worse. It would leave––nothing +now. Don’t you see? It takes courage +to avoid what seems to be the inevitable. That +terrible skill which is yours, the trick in this hand +on mine, is your worst enemy. Oh, Roger, if you’d +never learned to throw a gun!”</p> +<p>“It isn’t that,” he told her gently. “It isn’t +what you think at all. I’d rather cut off that right +hand than have it raised unfairly against a single +living thing. They call me a gunman, girlie, an’ +I reckon I am. But I’m not a killer. There’s a +difference between the two, an’ sometimes I think +it’s that difference that’s makin’ all the trouble. I’m +still tryin’ to steer by that thing you call the compass, +an’ that’s why I’ve got to go to town.”</p> +<p>He stepped away from her, waved a farewell to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +Mallory, who was watching the scene with a puzzled +expression, and ran for his horse. A minute later +the ringing hoof beats of his mount were dying +in the still night.</p> +<p>Laura Mallory swayed, and her father hurried +to her with the lamp and put his arm about her.</p> +<p>“What’s it all about, sweetie?” he asked complainingly.</p> +<p>“Nothing, daddy, nothing––only I love him.”</p> +<p>A puff of wind blew out the light in the lamp, +and father and daughter stood with arms about +each other under the dancing stars.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXX_THE_SHERIFFS_PLIGHT' id='CHAPTER_XXX_THE_SHERIFFS_PLIGHT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +<h3>THE SHERIFF’S PLIGHT</h3> +</div> +<p>Riding slowly Rathburn kept well in toward +the range and proceeded cautiously. This wasn’t +alone a safety measure, for he wished to favor +his horse. The dun had been hard ridden in the +spurt to gain the mountains ahead of the posse. He +had been rested at Price’s cabin, to be sure, and +also at the Mallory ranch; but now Rathburn had +a ride of fifteen miles to the town of Hope, and +he did not know how much riding he might have +to do next day.</p> +<p>When a scant three miles from Hope, he halted, +loosened the saddle cinch, and rested his horse, +while he himself reclined on the ground and smoked +innumerable cigarettes. He was in a thoughtful +mood, serious and somewhat puzzled. The recollection +of Eagen’s proposition caused him to frown +frequently. Then a wistful light would glow in +his eyes, and he thought of Laura Mallory. This +would be succeeded by another frown, and then his +eyes would narrow, and the smile that men had +come to fear would tremble on his lips.</p> +<p>He was again in the saddle with the first faint +glimmer of the approaching dawn. He covered +the distance into Hope at a swinging lope and rode +in behind a row of neat, yellow-brick buildings +which formed the east side of one block on the +short main street.</p> +<p>Securing his horse behind a building midway +of the rear of the block, he entered one of the +buildings through a back door. It proved to be a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +combination pool room and soft-drink bar. No one +was in the place except the porter who was cleaning +up. Rathburn noted that the man showed no +evidences of knowing him, although this was Rathburn’s +home town.</p> +<p>“Kind of early, ain’t you, boss?” grinned the +porter. “Maybe you’re lookin’ for something to +start the day with.” He winked broadly.</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded and walked over to the bar.</p> +<p>“Just get in?” asked the porter, as he put out +a bottle of white liquor and glanced at the dust +on Rathburn’s clothes.</p> +<p>“Just in,” replied Rathburn, pouring and tossing +off one drink. “Where’s everybody? Too early +for ’em?”</p> +<p>“Well, it’s about an hour too early on the average, +unless there’s been an all-night game,” replied the +porter, putting the bottle away, as his customer declined +a second drink. “But then there ain’t very +many in town right now. Everybody’s out after +the reward money.”</p> +<p>Rathburn lifted his brows.</p> +<p>“Say,” exclaimed the porter eagerly, “you didn’t +see any men ridin’ looselike, when you was coming +in, did you?”</p> +<p>Rathburn shook his head. “What’s all this you’re +tryin’ to chirp into my ear?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Well, Bob Long, the sheriff, has got all his +deputies out except just the jailer––there ain’t anybody +much in jail now, anyway––an’ all the other +men he could pin a star on, lookin’ for a gang +that held up the stage from Sunshine yesterday +mornin’, shot the stage driver dead, an’ made off +with an express package full of money. There’s a +big reward out for the man that’s leadin’ the gang. +He’s called The Coyote. Used to live here. He’s a +bad one.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div> +<p>“Sheriff out, too?” Rathburn asked, showing great +interest.</p> +<p>“Sure. Come back in early last night an’ got +more men. They’re tryin’ to surround Imagination +Range, I guess. That’s where this Coyote an’ his +gang are supposed to be hanging out. The sheriff +don’t care so much for the fellers that’s with him, +I guess, but he sure does want this Coyote person. +He told everybody to let the gang go if they had to, +but to get the leader.”</p> +<p>Rathburn looked through the front windows with +a quizzical smile on his lips. The sun was shining +in the deserted street.</p> +<p>“How many men has the sheriff got?” he inquired +casually.</p> +<p>“Most two hundred, I guess. They’re scattered +all over the range, an’ a lot of ’em has hit over +on the other side. They think The Coyote crossed +the range an’ is makin’ east.”</p> +<p>“Well, maybe he has, an’ maybe he hasn’t,” Rathburn +observed. “The best place to hide from a +posse is in the middle of it.”</p> +<p>The porter looked at him, then burst into a loud +laugh. “I guess you said something that time, +pardner. In the middle of it, eh?” He went about +his work, chuckling, while Rathburn walked to a +front window and stood looking out.</p> +<p>A few minutes later he stepped quickly back into +a corner, as a small automobile raced up the street. +He sauntered to the rear door, passed out with a +pleasant word to the porter, and when he gained +the open, hurried up behind the buildings the length +of the block. There he turned to the left and +walked rapidly to a large stone building. He went +around on the east side and entered a door on the +ground floor. He found himself in a hallway, and +on his left was a door, on the glazed glass of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +upper half of which was the gold lettering: “Sheriff’s +Office.”</p> +<p>After a moment’s hesitation he opened the door +quickly and went in. A man standing before an +open roll-top desk turned and regarded the early-morning +visitor. He was a small man, but of wiry +build. His eyes were gray, and he wore a small, +brown mustache. He had a firm chin, and his face +was well tanned. He was holding a paper in his +hands, and the paper remained as steady as a rock +in his grasp. His eyes bored straight and unflinchingly +into Rathburn’s. He showed no surprise, no +concern. He made no move toward the pair of +guns in the holsters of the belt which reposed on +top of his desk. He spoke first.</p> +<p>“Have you come to give yourself up, Rathburn?”</p> +<p>“Hardly that, sheriff,” replied Rathburn cheerfully. +“I arrived in town this morning after most +of the population had moved to the desert and the +country aroun’ Imagination. I didn’t think I was +goin’ to be lucky enough to catch you in till I saw +you arrive in that flivver. Are you back for more +recruits?”</p> +<p>The sheriff continued to hold the paper without +moving.</p> +<p>“When you first started to talk, Rathburn, I +thought maybe bravado had brought you here to +make a grand-stand play,” he said coolly. “But I +see you’re not as foolhardy as some might think. +I always gave you credit for being clever.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, Sheriff Long,” said Rathburn dryly. +“There’s a few preliminaries we’ve got to get over, +so–––”</p> +<p>His gun leaped into his hand and instantly covered +the official. He stepped to the end of the +desk, reached over and appropriated the belt with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +the two guns with his left hand. He tossed the +belt and weapons to a vacant chair.</p> +<p>“Now, sheriff, I didn’t come lookin’ for a cell +like you hinted; I drifted in for a bit of information.”</p> +<p>“This is headquarters for that article, especially +if it’s about yourself,” said Long, dropping the +paper on his desk and sitting down in the chair +before it.</p> +<p>“What all have you got against me?” frowned +Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Nothing much,” said the sheriff with biting +sarcasm; “just a few killings, highway robbery, +a bank stick-up, two or three gaming houses looted, +and a stage holdup. Enough to keep you in the +Big House for ninety-nine years and then hang you.”</p> +<p>Rathburn nodded. “You’re sure an ambitious +man, sheriff. The killings now––there was White +and Moran, that you know about, an’ a skunk over +in California named Carlisle, that you don’t know +about, I guess. I couldn’t get away from those +shootings, sheriff.”</p> +<p>“How about Simpson and Manley?” countered the +official scornfully.</p> +<p>“Not on my list,” said Rathburn quickly. “I +heard I was given credit for those affairs, but I +wasn’t a member of the party where they were +snuffed out.”</p> +<p>“If you can make a jury believe that, you’re in +the clear,” said Long. “But how about that stage +driver yesterday morning?”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face darkened. “I got in from the +west just in time to stumble on that gang of rats,” +he flared. “That’s how your men came to see me. +The chase happened to come in my direction, +that’s all.”</p> +<p>“If you can prove that, you’re all right again,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +the sheriff pointed out. “The law will go halfway +with you, Rathburn.”</p> +<p>“An’ I probably wouldn’t be able to prove it,” +said Rathburn bitterly. “Those other things––the +bank job an’ the gamblin’ stick-ups––I was younger +then, sheriff, an’ no one can say that that bank +sharp didn’t do me dirt.”</p> +<p>“If you can show a good, reasonable doubt in +those other cases, Rathburn, I know the court would +show leniency if the jury found you guilty on the +counts you just mentioned,” said the sheriff earnestly. +“I’m minded to believe you, so far as yesterday’s +work was concerned. I have an idea or two myself, +but I haven’t been able to get a good line +on my man. He’s too tricky. Of course I’m not +going to urge you to do anything against your +will. I appreciate your position. You’re a fugitive, +but you have your liberty. Perhaps you can get +away clean, though I doubt it. But there’s that +chance, and you’ve naturally got to take it into +consideration. And you’re not <i>sure</i> of anything if +you go to trial on the charges there are against +you. But it would count like sixty in your favor, +Rathburn, if you’d give yourself up.”</p> +<p>Rathburn stared at the official speculatively. His +thoughts flashed back along the years to the time +when he and Laura Mallory had played together as +children. He thought of what she had said the +night before about the compass. He shifted uneasily +on his feet.</p> +<p>“Funny thing, sheriff, but I had some such fool +notion,” he confessed.</p> +<p>“It takes nerve, Rathburn, for a man who is +wanted to walk in and give up his gun,” said the +sheriff quietly.</p> +<p>“I was thinking of something else,” said Rathburn. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +“An’ I’ve got to think some more about this +that you’ve sort of put in my head.”</p> +<p>“How much time do you want, Rathburn?” asked +Long.</p> +<p>Rathburn scowled. “Our positions haven’t +changed,” he said curtly. “I’m still the man you’re +lookin’ for. I’ll have to do my thinkin’ on my own +hook, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“Just as you say,” Long said gravely. “Go +over what I’ve told you carefully and don’t make +any more false moves while you’re making up your +mind. You wounded one of my men yesterday.”</p> +<p>“I shot high on purpose,” Rathburn pointed out. +“I didn’t aim to be corralled just then.”</p> +<p>“I know you did,” was the sheriff’s rejoinder. “I +know you could have killed him. I gave you credit +for it.”</p> +<p>“You give me credit for quite a few things, +sheriff,” said Rathburn whimsically. “An’ now +you’ll have to give me credit for bein’ plumb cautious. +It ain’t my intention to have my thinking +spell disturbed.”</p> +<p>His gun flashed in his hand.</p> +<p>“I’ll have to ask you to go inside an’ occupy one +of your own cells, sheriff, while I’m wanderin’ +around an’ debatin’ the subject.”</p> +<p>“I know you too well, Rathburn,” said the sheriff +with a grim smile. “I’m not armed, and I don’t +intend to obey you. If you intend to shoot you +might just as well start!”</p> +<p>Rathburn gazed at him coolly for a moment; +then he shoved his gun in its holster and leaped.</p> +<p>Quick as he was, Long was quicker. The sheriff +was out of his chair in a twinkling, and he made +a flying tackle, grasping Rathburn about the legs. +The two fell to the floor and rolled over and over +in their struggles.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></div> +<p>Although Rathburn was the larger man, the sheriff +seemed made of steel wire. He twisted out of +Rathburn’s holds, one after another. In one great +effort he freed himself and leaped to his feet. +Rathburn was up instantly. Long drove a straight +right that grazed Rathburn’s jaw and staggered +him, but Rathburn blocked the next blow and succeeded +in upper-cutting his left to the sheriff’s chin.</p> +<p>They went into another clinch, and the sheriff +got the better of the close fighting. Rathburn’s +face was bleeding, where it had been cut on a leg +of the chair, when they were struggling on the +floor. The feel of trickling crimson drove him +mad. He threw Long off in an amazing burst +of strength and then sent his right to the sheriff’s +jaw with all the force he could put into it.</p> +<p>Long dropped to the floor, and Rathburn raised +him and carried him to a door leading into the jail +proper. As he drew open the door, he drew his +gun and threw it down on the astonished jailer who +was dozing in the little office outside the bars.</p> +<p>“Open up!” Rathburn commanded.</p> +<p>The jailer hastened to obey, as he saw the appearance +of Rathburn’s face and the dangerous look in +his eyes.</p> +<p>Rathburn compelled him at the point of his gun +to lead the way to a cell in the rear, unlock it, +and go inside. Rathburn pushed Long, who was +regaining his senses, in after him and took the +jailer’s keys.</p> +<p>“Tell Long I’m thinkin’ over what he told me,” +he said to the jailer, as he locked them in.</p> +<p>Then he hurried back to the entrance, locked it, +and tossed the keys in through the bars.</p> +<p>He wet his handkerchief with ice water from a +tank in Long’s office, wiped his face clean, and left +the building.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXI_A_NEW_COUNT' id='CHAPTER_XXXI_A_NEW_COUNT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> +<h3>A NEW COUNT</h3> +</div> +<p>As Rathburn wended his way to an obscure +restaurant on a side street of the little town +which was the county seat of Mesquite County, his +thoughts were busy with what he had learned +from the sheriff. He knew the official had been +right when he said that it would react in Rathburn’s +favor if he gave himself up. Some of the counts +on which he would be indicted undoubtedly would +be quashed; others he might disprove. There was +a chance that he might get off lightly; in any event +he would have to spend a number of years in +prison.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked up at the bright sky. At the +end of the street he could see the desert, and far +beyond, the blue outlines of the mountains. It +seemed to him that the sunshine was brighter on +this deadly morning when he struggled with troubled +thoughts. Having always lived in the open, liberty +meant everything to him.</p> +<p>But constantly his thoughts reverted to Laura +Mallory. What did she expect of him? What +would she think if he were to give himself up? +Her talk of the compass––his conscience––bothered +him. Why should she say such a thing if she +didn’t feel more than a friendly interest in him? +Did she care for him then?</p> +<p>Rathburn laughed mirthlessly, as he entered the +eating house. There was no doubt of it––he was +a fool. He continued to think, as he ate; by the +time he had finished he found himself in a bad +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +mental state. He wiped some moisture from his +forehead, as he left the restaurant. For a moment +he felt panicky. He was wavering!</p> +<p>The tenor of his thoughts caused him to abandon +his caution. He turned the corner by the State +Bank of Hope and walked boldly down the street. +Few pedestrians were about. None took any special +notice of him, and none recognized him. He turned +in at the resort he had visited when he first arrived +that morning.</p> +<p>He started, as he entered the place. A deep +frown gathered on his face. Gomez, Eagen’s Mexican +henchman, was at the bar. At first Rathburn +feigned ignorance of the Mexican’s presence; but +Gomez smiled at him, his white teeth glistening +against his swarthy skin.</p> +<p>Rathburn marveled at the audacity of the Mexican, +who undoubtedly was one of those who had held +up the stage the day before, in coming boldly into +town. Then he recollected that the sheriff had mentioned +he had an idea of who was responsible for +that job, but had been unable to get a line on his +man. Eagen and his gang were evidently well +covered up. If such were the case, Eagen himself +might be in town.</p> +<p>It was because he thought he might learn something +from Gomez that he finally acknowledged the +fellow’s greeting by a nod.</p> +<p>The Mexican left the bar and walked up to him.</p> +<p>“We are not afraid to come in town, Mr. Coyote,” +he murmured.</p> +<p>“Drop that name,” said Rathburn sharply in an +undertone. “Is Eagen here?”</p> +<p>“He is here,” replied Gomez with another display +of his white teeth. “You want to see him? +He is up talking with Mr. Doane.”</p> +<p>Doane! Rathburn remembered the name instantly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +as being the same which had been spoken by Laura +Mallory the night before. He remembered, too, the +man who had been there and who had driven away +to town in the little car. He surmised that this +man had been Doane; and it had been he who had +brought the information of Rathburn’s arrival and +the posse’s pursuit to the girl.</p> +<p>“You want to see him?” asked Gomez craftily.</p> +<p>Rathburn had a consuming aversion for the wily +Mexican. He hated the shifty look in his eyes +and his oily tongue.</p> +<p>“Not yet,” he answered shortly.</p> +<p>“He will be here maybe,” said Gomez eagerly. “It +is you change your mind?”</p> +<p>Rathburn scowled. The Mexican then knew +all about the proposition Eagen had made to him +the night before. Perhaps he could get more information +from him than he had suspected.</p> +<p>“What job is it Eagen is planning?” he asked +in a low voice.</p> +<p>There were several men at the bar now, and +both Rathburn and the Mexican were keeping an +eye upon them.</p> +<p>“Oh, that he will have to tell you himself when +you are ready,” Gomez replied.</p> +<p>Rathburn snorted in keen disgust. But Gomez +sidled up to him.</p> +<p>“You go to the Mallory rancho last night,” he +whispered. “You are not the only one there last +night.” His smile flashed again, as Rathburn looked +at him quickly.</p> +<p>“There was another there before,” he continued; +“Mr. Doane. He goes there, too. You have been +away a long time, and Mr. Doane take the advantage.”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes were narrowing, and the Mexican +evidently took his face for an encouraging sign.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span></div> +<p>“Mr. Doane––he is not lucky at cards,” continued +Gomez. “He like to play, and he play lots; but +not too well. Maybe he have more luck in love––while +you are away.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” asked Rathburn through +his teeth.</p> +<p>“Oh, you do not know?” The Mexican raised +his black brows. “While you are away, Mr. Doane +make hay while the sun shine bright. He was +there much. He was there last night before you. +He tries hard to steal your señorita before you +come, and he will try to keep her now.” He winked +slyly.</p> +<p>Rathburn suddenly grasped him by the throat. +“What are you tryin’ to say?” he asked sternly, +shaking the Mexican like a rat.</p> +<p>Gomez broke away, his black eyes darting fire. +“You are a fool!” he exclaimed. “You get nothing. +Even your woman, she is stole right under your +eyes. Doane, he goes there, and he gets her. She +fall for him fast. Then she talks to you with +sugar in her mouth, and you believe. Bah! You +think the Señorita Mallory–––”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s open palm crashed against the Mexican’s +mouth.</p> +<p>“Don’t speak her name, you greaser!”</p> +<p>Gomez staggered back under the force of the slap. +His eyes were pin points of fire. He raised his +right hand to his mouth and then to the brim of his +sombrero. His breath came in hissing gasps, as +the hatred blazed in his glittering eyes.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s face was white under its heavy coating +of tan. He saw the few men at the bar turn +and look in their direction, and he realized instinctively +that these men were gamblers and shady +characters who were probably friends of Eagen and +his gang.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></div> +<p>“I give you my regards,” cried Gomez in a frenzy +of rage. “You––gringo!”</p> +<p>His right hand tipped his sombrero in a lightning +move, and there was a flash in the sunlight filtering +through the back windows, as Rathburn’s gun barked +at his hip.</p> +<p>Gomez crumpled backward to the floor, as the +knife dropped from his grasp at the beginning of +the throw.</p> +<p>Rathburn, still holding his smoking gun ready, +walked rapidly past the men at the bar and gained +the open through the door at the rear.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXII_THE_COMPASS_FAILS' id='CHAPTER_XXXII_THE_COMPASS_FAILS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> +<h3>THE COMPASS FAILS</h3> +</div> +<p>In the alley behind the buildings fronting on the +main street, Rathburn paused in indecision, while +he shoved his gun into the holster on his thigh. He +had known by the look in Gomez’s eyes that he was +going to throw a knife. Instinct had caused him to +watch the Mexican’s right hand, and, in the instant +when Gomez had secured the knife from his +hat and snapped back his hand for the throw, Rathburn +had drawn and fired. He knew well the +dexterity of a man of Gomez’s stamp with a knife. +The gun route was the only chance to protect his +life. But Rathburn realized, too, that he had shot to +kill!</p> +<p>He had been incensed by the Mexican’s subtle +insinuations––maddened by the way he leered when +he spoke Laura Mallory’s name. He had virtually +been driven to it. Even now he could not see how +he could have avoided it.</p> +<p>Securing his horse, Rathburn rode swiftly around +a back street to a small barn on the edge of the +desert. He ordered his mount watered and fed. +He had known the man who owned this barn, +but the individual who attended to his horse was +a new employee. He sat in the little front office +which also served as the quarters of the night man, +while his horse was being looked after. He had +not removed his saddle.</p> +<p>Rathburn’s thoughts dwelt on what Gomez had +said. There was no question but that the Mexican +had taken liberties in saying what he did, but there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +was more than a glimmer of truth in his statements. +Rathburn had seen the man leaving Laura +Mallory on the porch of the Mallory ranch house. +She had mentioned a man named Doane as having +brought word that he, Rathburn, was back in the +country and in more trouble. Now Gomez had +identified this visitor as Doane, the man who had +been calling on Laura Mallory regularly. Rathburn’s +brows wrinkled at the thought. But why +not? What hold had he upon her? It certainly +wasn’t within his rights to resent the fact that +another man had found the girl attractive. But, +to his increasing torment, he found that he <i>did</i> resent +it; he couldn’t help it!</p> +<p>Suddenly he remembered that Gomez had said +Eagen was paying a call on Doane. What could +Eagen have to do with Doane which would warrant +his visiting him early in the morning? Rathburn +recalled that Gomez had intimated that Doane liked +to play cards. Was the man then a professional +gambler? But no, Gomez had said he did not +play well.</p> +<p>Rathburn tried to recollect where he had seen +this man Doane before. The blond face and mustache +were vaguely familiar. Again he strove to +place the man without result.</p> +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, drew out his gun, +and replaced the empty shell with a fresh cartridge. +He dropped the weapon back into his holster and +went outside to see about his horse. The dun still +was feeding. Rathburn contented himself with looking +over his saddle and readjusting the small slicker +pack on its rear. Then he paced the length of the +barn, frowning in a thoughtful mood.</p> +<p>There was only one thing he was reasonably sure +of; no one around the town knew that he was the +outlaw known as The Coyote. He had not seen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +anybody he knew except the sheriff, and that official +was safely out of the way for the present. Gomez +had mentioned his name when they had first met, +but he had not been heard save by Rathburn. Therefore, +if they were looking for the man who had +shot down Gomez, they were merely looking for a +man measuring up to his description; and Rathburn +doubted if anything would be done until the authorities +had been notified. Visitors to the sheriff’s +office would find Long out and would assume that +he had not returned from the chase in the hills. +It might be another hour before the sheriff’s predicament +was discovered. And in that hour–––</p> +<p>Rathburn caught himself up with another shrug. +He was falling a prey to his former hopeless trend +of thought. Resentment was swelling within him +again, and he struggled to put it down. Perhaps +it would be safer to yield to the inclination to take +a chance on the courts.</p> +<p>It was after nine o’clock when he rode out of the +barn. He proceeded straight toward the main street +of the town. He was struggling with a half-formed +resolve; summoning courage by shutting out all recollections +save that of Laura Mallory’s apparently +earnest remark about the compass.</p> +<p>Reaching the main street, he started to turn the +corner at the bank building when he suddenly checked +his horse and stared at two people walking up the +opposite side of the street. Rathburn recognized +the girl immediately. She was Laura Mallory. A +moment later he caught a glimpse of the man’s face, +as he half turned toward Rathburn, laughing. He +had taken Laura’s arm. It was Doane!</p> +<p>The realization that Laura had come to town +and was in the company of Doane stunned Rathburn. +More than anything else it had the effect +of convincing him that Gomez had been right when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +he had hinted that Doane was successful in love. +Hadn’t she told him to take his gun when Eagen +had been waiting for him? Had she thought, perhaps, +that there would be gun play, and that Eagen +might emerge the victor, thus assuring her that he, +Rathburn, would bother her no more?</p> +<p>Rathburn’s eyes narrowed, and his face froze, +as he watched Laura and Doane out of sight up +the street. He knew now why he had had to come +back. There was nothing left––nothing but his +dreams, his sinister reputation, and his gun!</p> +<p>He looked about in a different way from that +in which he had first surveyed the street, now showing +life. His gaze encountered the bank building. +The door was open. The bank doubtless opened +at nine o’clock. He remembered that this was so. +A second of indecision, then he moved in front +of the bank. He dismounted, flung the reins over +the dun’s head, and entered briskly.</p> +<p>Two men were behind the screens of the two +cages. Rathburn approached a window and nodded +to the man behind it. Then his gun leaped into +his hand, and he covered the pair.</p> +<p>“Reach high an’ hard!” he commanded. “An’ +quick!”</p> +<p>The men in the cages hesitated; but the look in +Rathburn’s eyes convinced them, and they raised their +hands over their heads. Rathburn leaped to the +ledge outside the window and climbed nimbly over +the wire network of the cage. Then he dropped +to the floor inside.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIII_FAST_WORK' id='CHAPTER_XXXIII_FAST_WORK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> +<h3>FAST WORK</h3> +</div> +<p>Quickly and methodically Rathburn went about +his work. His face was drawn and pale, but +his eyes glittered with a deadly earnestness which +was not lost upon the two men who obeyed his orders +without question. The very boldness of his +intrepid undertaking must have convinced them that +here was no common bandit. He herded them +back toward the vault at the point of his gun. Then +he ordered them into the vault.</p> +<p>“Now then,” he said crisply, “you know what I’m +after. Trot it out!”</p> +<p>One of the men, evidently an assistant cashier +or head teller, who was in charge, opened a compartment +of the inner safe and pulled out a drawer. +Rathburn could see the packages of bills. He looked +quickly about and saw a pile of empty coin sacks +on a shelf.</p> +<p>“Fill two of those large sacks,” he instructed +the other man.</p> +<p>The clerk hastened to carry out his orders and +jammed package after package of bills into one of +the largest of the coin sacks. Both men were white-faced +and frightened. They did not try to delay +the proceedings. Rathburn looked dangerous; and +what was more sinister, he went about his nefarious +business in a cool, calm, confident manner. He +did not look like the Rathburn who had visited +Laura Mallory the night before, nor the Rathburn +who had talked with the sheriff. In this critical +moment he was in look, mood, and gesture The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +Coyote at his worst––worthy of all the terrible +things that had been whispered about him.</p> +<p>It may be that the bank employees suspected as +much. It may be that they didn’t believe it would +be possible for the outlaw to make his get-away in +broad daylight, and it was certain that they stood +in mighty fear of him. They cowered back, pale and +shaking, as he calmly took the sack, heavy with its +weight of bank notes of healthy denomination, and +stepped to the entrance to the big vault.</p> +<p>“When they come an’ let you out,” said Rathburn, +“you can tell them that the gent who helped +himself to the berries in the cash box is just beginnin’ +to cash in on the reputation that’s been wished on +him!”</p> +<p>He smiled grimly, as he swung the light, inner +door of the vault shut and clamped down the lever. +He slid his gun into its holster and, carrying the +sack of loot, walked out of the door of the second +cage toward the main entrance of the bank. As +he reached the door, a man came up the steps. +Rathburn recognized Doane, and his lips curled +in a snarl. It was the first time Doane had come +face to face with him, but the man started back in +surprise.</p> +<p>“Rathburn!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>Rathburn hesitated. His first feeling of instinctive +animosity fled. He scowled in a swift effort to +place the man, and the thought that in an indirect +way Doane was partly responsible for what had +come to pass flashed through his tortured brain. +This brought swift comprehension of his immediate +danger. Now that he had taken the decisive step +he would have to call upon all his resources of +courage and cunning to protect his liberty. The die +had been cast!</p> +<p>He hurried past Doane, swung into the saddle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +and rode at a swift pace around the corner, leaving +Doane standing on the steps of the bank, staring +after him with an expression of amazement on his +face.</p> +<p>Rathburn knew it would be but a matter of a +very few minutes before the knowledge that the +State Bank of Hope had been held up and robbed––would +be common property in the town. The very +boldness of the robbery had insured its success, +for none would dream that a lone bandit would +have the nerve to come into town in broad daylight, +hold up the bank, and attempt to run for it across +the open, burning spaces of the desert. But he was +not aware of the coincidence which would make the +news of the robbery known sooner than he expected.</p> +<p>At the end of the side street he struck boldly +across the desert, driving in his spurs and urging +the gallant dun to its top speed. In a matter of minutes +he was out of view of the town––a speck bobbing +amid the clumps of mesquite, palo verde, and +cactus. He raced for the mountains in the northwest.</p> +<p>There was another element of uncertainty which +entered into the probability of quick pursuit, as he +had shrewdly divined. It might be some time before +the sheriff’s predicament was discovered. Meanwhile +most of the male population was scouring +the vicinity of Imagination Range looking for him, +and there would be no one to lead a second posse +until the sheriff was liberated. There was nothing +in sight behind him toward town except the vista +of dry desert vegetation swimming in the heat. +Rathburn rode on with a feeling of security, so +far as trouble from that quarter was concerned.</p> +<p>His thoughts were in a turmoil, and he passed +a shaking hand over his damp brow. The resentment +had given way to grim decision and determination. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +Well, he had shown them what The Coyote +could do. They would remember that job; they +could lay that at his door. The proceeds would +carry him a long way. They had given him his +reputation, and he would make the game worth the +candle!</p> +<p>The old fierce defiance of misguided youth was +in his veins. He felt a wild exultation seize him. +Doubt and all problems were set aside. His eyes +glowed with a reckless light, as he raced on toward +the blue hills.</p> +<p>Doane had known him––had called him by name. +Therefore Doane knew he was The Coyote––the +outlaw with a price on his head. So much the better. +He <i>wanted</i> them to know!</p> +<p>The sun was at its zenith, as he passed above the +Mallory place. He did not once turn his head +and look down upon it. His jaw was squared, his +lips pressed tight, as he guided his horse into the +winding foothills of the range. In a narrow cañon +he dismounted and undid his slicker pack. When +he again tied it behind the saddle it contained the +bag which held the bank notes he had taken that +morning. He pushed on in the early afternoon.</p> +<p>He now rode with more caution. The fact that +he had not seen any members of the posses which +were scouring the hills, he accredited to ignorance +on their part of the fact that he had been at the +Mallory ranch the night before and had gone into +town. These things they had hardly had time to +learn. More than likely they had assumed that he +had crossed the mountains, and it was possible +that most of the men on the hunt were on the +east side of the range. He became more and more +convinced of this as the afternoon wore on, but +he did not relax his vigilance. His face had clouded.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></div> +<p>“We made a mistake, hoss,” he muttered, “in +not remembering to hunt up Mike Eagen first thing.”</p> +<p>In the quick moves following his sudden momentous +decision, he had forgotten Eagen. This fact +now bothered him. He had a score to settle with +Eagen on general principles. This did not mean +that he necessarily would have to shoot Eagen down; +but he wanted Eagen to hear straight out what he +thought of him. It might be a long time before +he could gratify that desire after the events of +this day.</p> +<p>Slowly he proceeded, not once venturing upon a +high spot until he had investigated by crawling to a +vantage point on his hands and knees. It was +sundown when he saw the first riders. Two were +farther down the slopes to westward, and several +more were far to eastward. It was true then that +Long had thrown a cordon about the section of +the mountains which he had been seen to enter the +day before.</p> +<p>However, Rathburn’s knowledge of the range and +the secrets of the mountain trails gave him a distinct +advantage over the inexperienced members of the +posses. True, there were deputies and some others +who were experienced; but they were in the minority.</p> +<p>Rathburn realized that the sheriff must have been +released some hours before, and that his escapade +of the morning would stimulate the man hunt. The +rewards would be increased, and every able-bodied +man in Hope would doubtless join in the scramble +for the reward money. He was satisfied that Sheriff +Long’s order would be to “shoot on sight!”</p> +<p>On the very crest of the range he paused in +the shelter of the rocks. There still was a fair +chance for him to get away clean to eastward. +The sheriff had not had time to get more men over +there, and by making a break into the southeast +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +and then cutting straight to the east, there was a +strong possibility that he would succeed in circling +around the posse and effect his escape.</p> +<p>But something was drawing him to Joe Price! +He did not quite understand that it was the desire +to confide in and confess to his friend what had +actuated his choice of moral trails. But the yearning +was there, and he was yielding to it. He conjectured +shrewdly that Long might not dream that +he would have the temerity again to enter the +very district where he was being sought. It was +his belief that the best place to hide from a posse +was in the midst of it!</p> +<p>It was this confidence, almost as much as his +skill in trailing, which enabled him to gain a point +above Joe Price’s cabin in the early twilight. He +waited patiently until the curtain of night had +fallen, and the stars had replaced the fading banners +of the sunset, before he slipped down a steep slope +and walked his horse into the cañon below the old +miner’s abode.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIV_THE_COMPASS_WAVERS' id='CHAPTER_XXXIV_THE_COMPASS_WAVERS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> +<h3>THE COMPASS WAVERS</h3> +</div> +<p>Joe Price regarded Rathburn with a curious +look in his eyes when he beheld him in the +doorway of his cabin. He stepped swiftly to the +one window, which was over the table, and dropped +the burlap shade. Then he closed the door.</p> +<p>“So they’ve been here?” asked Rathburn.</p> +<p>“What else could you expect?” replied Price +testily. “They’re combin’ these hills for you.” He +looked at Rathburn keenly, but Rathburn only smiled.</p> +<p>“That’s not news to me,” he said quietly; “I’ve +percolated through their lines twice.”</p> +<p>“Stay here,” said Price, “and I’ll look after your +horse––or were you hidin’ up all day?”</p> +<p>“No such luck,” answered Rathburn grimly.</p> +<p>The old man looked at him curiously; then he +went out of the door, closing it carefully after him.</p> +<p>Rathburn found cold food, put it on the table, +and sat down to eat. When Price returned he had +finished. The old miner sat down in a chair opposite +Rathburn.</p> +<p>“Now, out with it,” he said. “Something has +happened. I can see it in the way you look an’ +act. What’s up?”</p> +<p>Rathburn carefully rolled a brown-paper cigarette, +snapped a match into flame, and lit it before he +replied. He was half smiling.</p> +<p>“I held up the State Bank of Hope this mornin’ +an’ extracted a bag of perfectedly good bills,” he +announced. “Didn’t bother with the counter money. +Made ’em serve me from the vault.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></div> +<p>Joe Price’s eyelids did not even flicker.</p> +<p>“Any idear what you got?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Not whatsoever,” replied Rathburn coolly; “but +the smallest I saw on top of the package was a +fifty.”</p> +<p>Price nodded. “You got plenty,” he said.</p> +<p>Rathburn scowled. He had expected some kind +of an outbreak––at least a remonstrance from his +old friend. He glanced about uneasily and then +glared defiance at Price.</p> +<p>“It had to come, Joe,” he asserted. “There +wasn’t any way out of it. What’s more, I killed +that greased pard of Eagen’s, Gomez.”</p> +<p>“How so?” queried Price.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll tell <i>you</i>, Joe, but I don’t expect it to +go any further. He said something about Laura +Mallory an’ a man named Doane, an’ I didn’t like +it. I slapped him. Then he went for a knife he +had in his hat.”</p> +<p>The old man nodded again. “I see,” he said +simply. “You shot him. Not a bad riddance. How +did you come to rob the bank, Rathburn?”</p> +<p>Rathburn’s gaze again shifted uneasily. Then +he rose with a burning look at Price, walked up +and down the slanting length of the cabin, and +halted before the old miner.</p> +<p>“Joe,” he said in a tremulous voice, “it’s the last +ditch. I can’t get away from it. I thought I could +tell you––an old friend––the whole story, but I can’t, +Joe. That’s the devil of it! There’s something +wrong with me. I reckon I’m one of those fellows +who just had everything mapped out for him. I +had some trouble, Joe, an’ it’s started something––something +I can’t control. They <i>had</i> to remember +me, an’ I gave them something to remember me by!”</p> +<p>“Who do you mean by ‘they,’ Rathburn?” asked +the miner.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div> +<p>“Sheriff Long an’ the others,” said Rathburn +quickly. “There wasn’t a chance for me. Why, I +was thinking of giving myself up only this morning. +Joe, it ain’t in the pictures––not after I let Gomez +have it. Even after I stopped Gomez I had an idea +that I could face the music. Besides, Joe, there’s +more to this than you think. They call me The +Coyote, an’, Joe, so help me, from now on I am!”</p> +<p>“Did you stop at the Mallory place?” asked Price +quietly.</p> +<p>Rathburn did not reply at once. With agony in +his eyes he looked at his old friend, and suddenly +he bristled:</p> +<p>“I might as well never have gone there,” he +flung out. “I see now I wasn’t wanted. I found +out as much from Gomez. He told me about Laura’s +affair with that fellow Doane. But what could I +expect? I wasn’t entitled to no thought from her, +an’ I should have known as much. I’m just a +plain fool––a worse one now than I was before.”</p> +<p>Joe Price’s faded blue eyes glowed with comprehension.</p> +<p>“You thought Laura had put you off, so you +gave in an’ robbed the bank, Rathburn, an’ just +naturally made a mess of things when you had a +chance,” said the old man stoutly. “That ain’t +actin’ with a lick of sense. You wasn’t gettin’ +square with anybody, an’ you wasn’t doin’ that girl +right by takin’ the word of Gomez.”</p> +<p>“I saw the two of them, her an’ Doane, in Hope +this morning, walkin’ down the street, arm in arm, +laughing––probably over me,” Rathburn replied bitterly. +“I’ve got eyes, and I can put two an’ two +together. I’m only The Coyote with her, and I’ll <i>be</i> +The Coyote. She took my gun an’ then gave it +back when Mike Eagen showed up, thinkin’ maybe +there’d be gun play, an’ I’d get mine.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div> +<p>“Now you shet up!” shrilled Price. “I reckon +you’ve lost all the brains you ever did have? Do +you think Laura would keep your gun, knowin’ +there might be trouble, an’ you wouldn’t have any +way to protect yourself? Don’t you suppose she +knows you’re as fast as Eagen? She’s no fool, +if you are. But, if you’ve got to stay the fool, +you better be lightin’ out with your winnings. An’ +you’re not takin’ the bank’s money, either.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by that?” scowled Rathburn, +who had been thoughtful while his friend was +speaking.</p> +<p>“I had money in that bank, Rathburn, an’ so +did Mallory, an’ there’s a lot more of us–––”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you back your money,” Rathburn +growled. “Anyway, they’re protected by insurance, +an’ the insurance people can hunt me till doomsday––I +guess.” He was cooling off rapidly.</p> +<p>“Maybe they are,” said Price, “an’ maybe they +ain’t. But it ain’t goin’ to help you none the +way you’re goin’ to feel about it later, no matter +who loses it.”</p> +<p>Rathburn was pacing the room, frowning. Twice +he started to speak, but the words failed to come. +Then he put a question. “Who is this man Doane? +He knew me, for I met him when I was comin’ +out of the bank, an’ he called me by name.”</p> +<p>“Doane is cashier of the bank down at Hope. +He was likely just comin’ to work when you met +him.”</p> +<p>Rathburn stared with an incredulous expression. +“You’re sure?” But even as he put the question, +Rathburn placed his man.</p> +<p>“I’m dead certain on it,” declared Price.</p> +<p>Rathburn sat down heavily and took his hat in +his hand.</p> +<p>“That makes it different,” he said dully, as if to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +himself. “Maybe she’s stuck on him for his money, +an’ maybe she’s stuck on him because he’s a good +guy. Maybe this thing would hurt him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t think they’d blame him,” said Price +with a note of consolation in his voice; “an’ he +probably wouldn’t lose nothin’.”</p> +<p>“But she might think––it might be that she–––” +Rathburn swung his hat to his head and rose. He +walked toward the door, but Joe Price got in his +way.</p> +<p>“Where you goin’?” he asked.</p> +<p>“To the Mallory ranch!”</p> +<p>“You can’t get there!” said Price hoarsely, pushing +him back.</p> +<p>“I’ve got to get there!” answered Rathburn grimly, +pushing the old man aside. “I must see Laura.”</p> +<p>“You got here just by luck,” Price pointed out. +“An’ there’s more men in by now. Maybe they +know you’re here. But wait till I get your horse––he’s +hid.”</p> +<p>“Get him,” Rathburn commanded.</p> +<p>After a moment’s hesitation Price went out the +door, and he returned almost instantly. He walked +to the table and blew out the light. “Go to the +door an’ see,” he urged in an excited voice.</p> +<p>Rathburn hurried out. High on the mountain +above the cañon a fire was burning.</p> +<p>“It’s the signal,” Price whispered in his ear.</p> +<p>“Joe, do me a last favor,” said Rathburn in a +queer voice. “Get me my hoss before it’s too late!”</p> +<p>The old man obediently slipped into the shadows +behind the cabin.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXV_GUNS_IN_THE_NIGHT' id='CHAPTER_XXXV_GUNS_IN_THE_NIGHT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> +<h3>GUNS IN THE NIGHT</h3> +</div> +<p>When Joe Price returned, leading Rathburn’s +horse which he had fed and watered, and +turned over the reins, he spoke swiftly in a low +voice:</p> +<p>“They’ll be watchin’ hard for you down the cañon, +boy. Bob Long’s sure to mean business this ’ere +time.”</p> +<p>“Well, I know it,” said Rathburn with a low, +mirthless laugh. “I locked him in his own jail +this mornin’ to get a clean chance to decide to +give myself up. Then, when the chance came––well, +he surely thinks now that I put him away +to cover my tracks. I expect the boys have got +their shootin’ orders.”</p> +<p>“Listen!” whispered Price excitedly. “Wait till +I get my own horse, an’ I’ll strike east across the +hump. That’ll start ’em after me maybe––sure it +will, Rathburn! They’ll think I’m you, see, an’ light +right out after me.”</p> +<p>Rathburn laid one hand on the old man’s shoulder +and put the other over Joe’s mouth.</p> +<p>“Joe, you’re all excited––plumb unreasonable excited. +You know I wouldn’t let you do that. +Now don’t hand me more worries than I’ve got. +Be good, Joe.” He patted Price’s shoulder, then +swung into the saddle.</p> +<p>The old miner looked up at him, his face showing +strangely white in the dim starlight, pierced by +the fire on the peak.</p> +<p>“I didn’t tell ’em you’d been here, Roger; don’t forget +that!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></div> +<p>“I knew that, Joe,” Rathburn chuckled. “So +long.”</p> +<p>Swiftly he rode down the little meadow below +the spring into the deep shadows of the cañon +which led down a steep trail to the desert. Presently +he checked his pace until he was walking the gallant +dun. He wished to avoid as much noise as possible, +and to save the horse for a final spurt down nine +miles of desert to the Mallory ranch from the +mouth of the cañon––providing he got out.</p> +<p>For two reasons he had deliberately chosen this +route: it was shortest, and it offered the best going. +He must save the dun’s strength. Rathburn knew +the limits of his splendid mount; knew they had +almost been reached; knew there was just enough +left in the horse to make the ranch without killing +him. The Coyote would surrender before he would +kill his horse to effect his escape or gain an objective!</p> +<p>Thus they slipped down the narrow cañon, with +the desert stars gleaming white above the lava hills +of Imagination Range, while the fire glowed on the +peak above Joe Price’s cabin. Rathburn’s face was +pale under his tan; his thoughts were in a turmoil, +but his lips were pressed into a fine line that denoted +an unwavering determination. Had Sheriff Bob +Long seen his face at this time he might have +glimpsed another angle of Rathburn’s many-sided +character––an angle which would have given him +pause.</p> +<p>Rathburn looked behind, and his eyes narrowed. +Two fires were burning on the peak.</p> +<p>Already the watchers were cognizant of his latest +move and were signaling to those who might be +below. He wondered vaguely why they had not +surrounded Joe Price’s cabin while he had been there. +Then he realized he had been there hardly long +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +enough for his pursuers to get there in any number. +Suddenly his thoughts were broken into by a streak +of red in the cañon depths below him. He swerved +close against the rock wall, drew his gun, and, +speaking to the dun, drove in his spurs.</p> +<p>A short distance below he could see the faint +glow of the starlight night and knew he was near +the cañon’s mouth. There were more streaks of +red, and bullets whistled past him. Then Rathburn +raised his gun and sent half its deadly contents +crashing down into the trail ahead.</p> +<p>There followed a few moments of quiet, broken +only by the harsh, ringing pound of his mount’s +hoofs. Rathburn could see open country just ahead. +Then a flash of fire came from almost under him, +and the big dun lunged into the air, half twisting, +and came down upon some object under its hoofs. +The dun bounded on in great leaps, literally flying +through the air, as Rathburn thrilled with the knowledge +that the horse had knocked down the man who +had sought to kill him.</p> +<p>From above came sharp reports, and the blackness +of the high cañon walls was streaked with spurts of +flame. Leaden death hurled itself into the rock +trail behind him. Then he was out of the cañon, +riding like mad through the white desert night toward +his goal––the Mallory ranch!</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Laura Mallory stood on the porch of the little +ranch house, staring out across the dimly lit spaces +of desert. A worried look appeared in her eyes. +The front door was open, and in the small sitting +room her father was reading under a shaded lamp +at the table. At times the worried look in the girl’s +eyes would change to one of wistfulness, and twice +the tears welled.</p> +<p>Presently she straightened and listened intently, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +looking into the south instead of northwest. Her +ears, keen as are those of the desert born, had caught +a sound––a succession of faint sounds––in the still +night air. Gradually the sound became more and +more distinct, and the worried expression of her +face increased. She hurried into the sitting room.</p> +<p>“Father, Fred Doane is coming out from town,” +she said breathlessly. “Do you suppose they’ve got +him?”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, girlie,” said the old man. “It was +a bold business, an’ what could you expect?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. I can’t seem to understand. +All this trouble is coming so suddenly. Father, are +you sure you heard Roger refuse to aid that man +Eagen in some shady scheme last night?”</p> +<p>“Ab-so-lutely,” declared Mallory. “I’ve been +wondering, daughter, if he didn’t turn Eagen down +because he had this scheme of his own.”</p> +<p>The purr of a motor came to them from outside, +and Laura, hastily wiping her eyes with a +small handkerchief, went slowly out.</p> +<p>“Laura!” cried Fred Doane, as he came up the +steps, holding out his hands.</p> +<p>“What––what is it, Fred?” she faltered. “Have +they caught–––”</p> +<p>“Not yet,” said Doane briskly, as Mallory appeared +in the door. “An’ they probably won’t get +him. He’s clever, that fellow.”</p> +<p>The bank cashier indulged in a frown, but he +was plainly nervous.</p> +<p>“Then what news do you bring here?” Mallory +demanded. “Did you come to tell us he’d got away +clean?”</p> +<p>“Why, not––not exactly,” said Doane. “I meant +to tell you that, of course, but I also want to +have a little talk with Laura. Can I see you alone, +Laura, for a few minutes?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></div> +<p>“Oh, <i>that’s</i> it,” snorted Mallory, as he stamped +back into the house.</p> +<p>“You have something to tell me you don’t want +father to hear?” asked the girl in a worried voice.</p> +<p>“Laura, there’s something I must tell you right +away,” said Doane nervously, leading her to the +shadow of the far end of the porch. There he +turned and faced her, taking her hands.</p> +<p>“Laura, you must have seen it for a long time. +You could hardly help but see it. I love you, +Laura––I love you with all my heart, and I want +you to be my wife.”</p> +<p>The girl drew back in astonishment.</p> +<p>“But why do you have to tell me this so suddenly?” +she asked, her color coming and going.</p> +<p>“Because I want you to marry me, Laura, to-night!” +he said.</p> +<p>Again he reached for her hands. “Please, Laura,” +he pleaded. “It means so much to me. Don’t +you care for me, sweetheart? I’ve been led to +think you did, and I intended to tell you soon, but +all this trouble––this terrible trouble to-day––has +nearly driven me mad. I’m afraid I’ll go mad, +Laura, if I don’t have something else to think +about. Oh, Laura, marry me and help me out of +this big trouble.”</p> +<p>“Fred!” exclaimed the girl, startled by his passion +of pleading. “Fred, I’ve never tried to make you +think I cared for you. And now––well, I’d have +to have a long time to think it over. How would +it help you out of trouble, Fred? Tell me that.”</p> +<p>“By helping me forget––by helping me forget that +our bank is ruined! By saving my mind! By +keeping me from going mad! By–––”</p> +<p>“Fred you must not talk so. That robbery has +unnerved you for the time being, that’s all. You’re +excited and so–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div> +<p>“I’m more than excited,” he declared, trying to +put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m about––about––<i>gone</i>! +Laura, marry me to-night, and we’ll go +somewhere––we’ll go somewhere right from here, +from this ranch––go a long way and get married in +the morning. Then we can stay away for a short +time till I get to be myself again.”</p> +<p>“No, Fred,” replied the girl in convincing tones, +“I can’t. It would be asking too much even if +I loved you. Come inside, and I’ll make you some +strong tea. You can talk to father and me and +regain control of yourself.”</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence. Mallory with +the lamp had come to the door at the sound of +Doane’s loud voice. He was looking at them. +Then out of the night came the pound of hoofs. +There was no mistaking the sound.</p> +<p>Doane whirled around, as a rider came out of +the sea of mesquite and greasewood and flung himself +from the saddle in front of the porch. The +bank cashier turned toward Mallory. His face was +haggard. He seemed to sway, as the rider came +stamping up the steps. He darted for the door, +but had hardly got inside before the rider caught +him and made him face about. Mallory hurried in +with the lamp, followed by the girl.</p> +<p>Doane was quailing before the new arrival. Both +cried out, as they saw it was Eagen who had broken +out so suddenly. Eagen towered above the shrinking +Doane.</p> +<p>“So you thought you’d double cross me, did you, +eh?” came Eagen’s harsh voice, and he slapped Doane +in the face.</p> +<p>Doane went red, then white. For a moment intense +hatred and anger flashed in his eyes, but +he made no move to avenge the insult. Slowly +the light in his eyes died again to fear, as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +realized his inability to cope with this man of +strength.</p> +<p>“Here, Eagen, you can’t come into my house and +act like that,” said Mallory stoutly, putting the lamp +on the table.</p> +<p>Laura still stood in the doorway, stunned by the +rapid and extraordinary turn of events. Eagen +turned on Mallory with a snarl.</p> +<p>“Shut up, you old fool! Don’t butt in where +you ain’t wanted, an’ on something you don’t know +anything about.”</p> +<p>“I know you’re in my house!” Mallory retorted +sternly.</p> +<p>“I’ll only be here a minute,” said Eagen with a +sneer. “I’m goin’ out of your house, an’ I’m goin’ +to drag this sneaking cur out with me––out on the +solid ground an’ give him what’s comin’ to him. +An’ then,” he added in a terrible voice; “I’m goin’ +to go out an’ get his pardner––Rathburn, The Coyote––get +him when the others can’t come within a mile +of him!”</p> +<p>“You can’t take this man out of my house when +he is my guest!” thundered Mallory.</p> +<p>“No?” asked Eagen contemptuously. “Well, you +watch an’ see! If you try to stop me you’ll stop +lead!”</p> +<p>He leaped forward and grasped Doane by the +shoulder, jerked him forward, and stepped backward +himself. He turned, dragging his victim, then +stopped dead in his tracks with a hissing intake +of breath. Rathburn was standing quietly in the +doorway.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVI_THE_LOOT' id='CHAPTER_XXXVI_THE_LOOT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> +<h3>THE LOOT</h3> +</div> +<p>In the heat of the threats and counterthreats which +had been in progress, none of the occupants of +the room had heard the newest arrival thunder up +to the porch and leap from the saddle to the steps.</p> +<p>Eagen was dumfounded by Rathburn’s sudden +appearance. He saw that the girl was standing now +in a front corner of the room, with her hands +crossed on her breast, a look of horror in her eyes. +Slowly Eagen recovered and loosed his hold on +Doane, who staggered weakly to the table and +leaned upon it. Eagen’s sneer returned to his thick +lips, and his narrowed gaze traveled quickly to a +sack which Rathburn held in his left hand. Eagen’s +eyes shone with fury.</p> +<p>“Come here to fix up the divvy!” he choked. +“I knew it was a put-up job between you an’ +Doane, an’ I figured you’d maybe meet aroun’ +here where Doane would be sure to come to try +an’ take this woman with him.”</p> +<p>Rathburn eyed him calmly. There was something +of a deadly calm in his very posture, as he stood +just within the threshold. He looked past Eagen to +Doane. Then he tossed the sack on the table.</p> +<p>“Here’s the money I took this morning, Doane,” +he said in matter-of-fact tones. “I came here to +turn it over to you.”</p> +<p>With bulging eyes Doane stared at him.</p> +<p>Eagen laughed loudly. “That’s rich! Tryin’ to +make me think you was goin’ to give it <i>all</i> to him? +Don’t you figure, Mr. Coyote, that I can throw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +my rope aroun’ a simple scheme like you an’ that +shivering rat over by the table cooked up? That’s +why you turned down my little proposition last night. +It was this same deal––only, <i>me</i>, an’ Doane there +was goin’ to put it over. You figured I’d cut you +out of your divvy, an’ you figured right; he suspected +I might double cross him, an’ maybe he was +right, too. So he cooked it up with you to pull the +robbery, thinkin’ you’d be more likely to go through +an’ give him his end. But the pair of you figured +too many points when you thought I wouldn’t +catch on.”</p> +<p>“That was what your proposition was to be, +was it?” asked Rathburn pleasantly. “Rob the bank? +Why, I didn’t need a gang to rob the bank, Eagen, +an’ I didn’t have anybody in with me. The trouble +with you is that you’ve got too much imagination.”</p> +<p>The drawl in which Rathburn concluded his +speech drove Eagen to a frenzy.</p> +<p>“You lie, Rathburn!”</p> +<p>Rathburn smiled. “I might as well tell you that +I intended to get away with that money that’s on +the table, Eagen. That’s what I took it for. I’m +making this little statement because something’s liable +to happen to one, or both of us. I didn’t know +Doane was cashier of the bank when I took it. +I only recently learned that fact. Then I brought +it back to turn over to him, not so much on his +account as on account of Miss Mallory. I understand +Doane is a very good friend of Miss Mallory. +I wouldn’t want his bank hurt for that reason.”</p> +<p>It was Laura Mallory who cried out at this. She +walked toward Rathburn, although he did not look +at her.</p> +<p>“Why did you do it, Roger?” she asked in a +trembling voice.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you <i>that</i>, ma’am,” he said.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></div> +<p>“But I know!” she cried. “I’ve guessed it. You +saw Mr. Doane and me together in Hope to-day +and remembered he was at the ranch last night, +and–––”</p> +<p>“Don’t say any more, Laura!” Rathburn commanded +sternly.</p> +<p>“Be still, daughter; it’s best,” said Mallory.</p> +<p>“Neither she, nor you, nor Doane, nor all of you +together can talk me out of it!” roared Eagen. “It +was a frame-up!”</p> +<p>In the deadly stillness that followed, Laura Mallory +shrank back from the sight of two gunmen looking +steadily into each other’s eyes, their hands ready +for the lightning draw––each waiting for the merest +suggestion of the beginning of a move on the part +of the other to get his weapon into action. But +the draws did not come. The pregnant silence was +broken by the thundering roll of many horses galloping +into the yard about the house.</p> +<p>“There!” yelled Eagen in a voice of triumph. +“There’s your sweet little posse, Coyote!”</p> +<p>“I expected to see Bob Long when I came down +here!” said Rathburn coolly, looking at Laura Mallory +for the first time.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVII_THE_TEST_OF_A_MAN' id='CHAPTER_XXXVII_THE_TEST_OF_A_MAN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> +<h3>THE TEST OF A MAN</h3> +</div> +<p>Several men stamped across the porch to the +jingle of spur chains. Others broke in through +the back door and entered the kitchen. Sheriff Bob +Long appeared at the door, with two guns leveled.</p> +<p>“You’re covered from both doors and all the +windows, Rathburn!” he said sharply.</p> +<p>“That’s almost just what I thought, sheriff,” Rathburn +drawled.</p> +<p>Long stepped into the room, shoving his guns into +their holsters. Many other guns were covering +Rathburn.</p> +<p>“What’s the meaning of all this, anyway?” demanded +Long with a puzzled expression on his face. +His eyes widened, as he saw the bag of money +on the table. “Is that the money that was taken +from your bank this morning Mr. Doane?” he asked +sharply.</p> +<p>Doane nodded weakly. The sheriff looked at +Rathburn curiously.</p> +<p>“You brought it back? You was up to Joe Price’s +place.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I brought it back, sheriff,” said Rathburn +cheerfully.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll be frank and tell you, Rathburn, that +if you expect leniency after what happened this +morning you might just as well give up that idea. +Any man can change his mind when he sees he can’t +get away.”</p> +<p>“That’s up to you, sheriff,” replied Rathburn, +taking tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +“As I was just tellin’ our friend, Mr. Eagen, I +brought it back on purpose, an’ I expected to see +you when I got here. I came near not gettin’ +here at that.”</p> +<p>“You took a long chance,” scowled Long. “But +it won’t get you much now at this stage of the +game––especially after the way you led me to believe +this morning that you were thinking of giving yourself +up.”</p> +<p>Eagen’s laugh startled them.</p> +<p>“He brought it back to give it up an’ himself, +too?” he jeered. “He brought it back, sheriff, +because he an’ that rat of a Doane planned this +thing. Coyote got away with the money an’ came +back here to divvy up with Doane. Didn’t Doane +make the same kind of a proposition to me? Didn’t +he tell me he was short in his accounts, an’ it +could be covered up if the bank was robbed, for +then he could say more money was took than really +was? I’ll say he did. An’ I was goin’ to see +if he’d go through with it, an’ then I was going +to wise you up so we could get him cold.”</p> +<p>With knitted brows the sheriff stared at Eagen, +then looked at the white-faced Doane.</p> +<p>“Tell him I’m tellin’ the truth!” shouted Eagen +at the shaking bank cashier. “You can’t get out +of it.”</p> +<p>There was a tense moment.</p> +<p>Doane shook his head weakly; he was a picture +of guilt.</p> +<p>“He got scared I wouldn’t go through with the +play, sheriff,” Eagen continued. “Thought maybe +I’d make off with all the kale. So he framed it +with Rathburn, an’ I caught ’em about to divide it +here.”</p> +<p>“He lies!” screamed Doane. “I didn’t frame it +with Rathburn. I can prove it. That man”––he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +pointed a shaking finger at Eagen––“has come to +me with threats and made me take securities I knew +were stolen. There’s some of them in the bank +now. Some of the stuff he took from the stage +driver yesterday is there! He’s pulled job after +job–––”</p> +<p>Eagen, recovering from his amazement at the +man’s outbreak, leaped and drove his powerful fist +against Doane’s jaw, knocking him nearly the length +of the room, where he crashed with his head against +the stones of the fireplace. Eagen turned quickly. +His eyes were blazing red.</p> +<p>“You’re the man!” he yelled wrathfully. “You’re +the yellow Coyote–––”</p> +<p>His right hand went to his gun, as there came +a crashing report. He staggered back, trying to +get out the weapon which had not left his holster. +He sank down to his knees, still glaring death at +the man above him, still fumbling at his gun. Then +he lurched forward on his face.</p> +<p>Rathburn flipped his smoking pistol so that its +barrel landed in his hand. Then he tendered it, butt +foremost, to Sheriff Bob Long. Long took it and +threw it on the table, looking first at Rathburn, then +at the dead man on the floor. He waved toward the +doors and windows.</p> +<p>“You boys can draw back,” he ordered.</p> +<p>Mallory stepped to the fallen Doane. The man’s +face had set in a white cast. He felt his heart.</p> +<p>“He did for him,” he said, rising.</p> +<p>Laura Mallory came walking slowly up to the +sheriff. Her face was ghastly after what she had +witnessed.</p> +<p>“Sheriff Long,” she said in a voice strangely +calm, “we heard Eagen”––she shuddered, as she +mentioned the name––“ask Roger––ask Mr. Rathburn +last night to help with some job that would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +get them a lot of money. It may be that––that––Fred +did plan such a thing. I’m sorry to say it, but +Fred had seemed awfully nervous lately, and to-night +he came to me and asked me to run away with him––at +once. He seemed horribly afraid of something. +Anyway, Roger refused to go in with Eagen, and an +examination of Fred’s books will tell all.”</p> +<p>She hesitated. Then she spoke slowly and softly.</p> +<p>“I know why Roger robbed the bank and–––”</p> +<p>“Stop, Laura!” cried Rathburn.</p> +<p>“No,” said Laura firmly; “you may be going to +prison.”</p> +<p>He put out one hand in protest.</p> +<p>Turning again to the sheriff she said:</p> +<p>“Roger did go to town last night, intending to +give himself up. I knew he was going to do it by +the way he looked at me. But to-day he saw me +with Mr. Doane, and maybe he’s heard things for +which there was no warrant. Anyway, I know he +thought I––I––was in love with Fred.”</p> +<p>“Laura––please!” Rathburn pleaded.</p> +<p>“And to-night,” said the girl in triumph, “he +heard Fred was cashier of the bank he’d robbed, and +he brought the money back because he thought the +robbery would hurt Fred and in that way hurt me!”</p> +<p>Rathburn turned appealingly to the sheriff. “Let’s +go,” he urged.</p> +<p>“He robbed that bank because he thought I had +betrayed his trust, Sheriff Long!” cried Laura, her +eyes shining.</p> +<p>“Are we going, Long?” cried Rathburn in an +agony.</p> +<p>The sheriff stepped to the door and called to some +of his men who entered and bore the bodies of +Doane and Eagen out of the sitting room. Then he +took the money sack from the table and indicated to +Rathburn to follow him, as he went out of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +door. Rathburn went after him quickly, and the +girl ran to the porch. Rathburn drew back with +a cry, as he reached the porch. Just beyond the +steps a horse was lying on its side.</p> +<p>“My––my hoss!” he cried wonderingly.</p> +<p>He leaped down beside the dead beast. Then he +saw crimson upon the animal’s shoulder, as a little +gleam of light came from the door.</p> +<p>“That was why he jumped on the trail. He was +hit. He carried me all this way with a bullet in him +an’ then dropped! One of Long’s men shot him.”</p> +<p>Rathburn looked about vacantly. Then he sank +down and buried his face on the shoulder of the +dun, as Sheriff Long turned away. Laura Mallory +stepped quickly to the side of the sheriff and touched +his arm.</p> +<p>“Is he as bad as you think, sheriff?”</p> +<p>Long scowled at her in the dim light from the door, +took out a thick, black cigar, bit the end off savagely, +and began to chew it. He walked abruptly out to +where some of his men were standing by their +horses, and he said something in an undertone. When +he returned, Rathburn had taken the saddle and +bridle off the dead horse and was throwing the +leather on the porch.</p> +<p>“Yours, dad,” he called to Mallory; “I wouldn’t +use ’em again if I could.” Then he turned to the +sheriff. “All right, Bob.”</p> +<p>“Come inside,” said Long gruffly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVIII_TEN_MILES_START' id='CHAPTER_XXXVIII_TEN_MILES_START'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> +<h3>TEN MILES’ START</h3> +</div> +<p>When they were in the sitting room the sheriff +confronted Rathburn.</p> +<p>“This has been a queer case for me,” he said +slowly, with an attempt at harshness. “I knew +Eagen was up to a lot of dirty work, but I never +could fasten anything on him till to-night. I’ll get +some of the rest of the gang now. Doane showed +in his face that he was guilty. Those things don’t +worry me none. But <i>you</i> are the hardest character +I ever had to handle, Rathburn!”</p> +<p>“I don’t figure on givin’ you any more trouble, +sheriff,” Rathburn assured him, smiling.</p> +<p>“That’s the puzzle of it!” Long exploded. “That +puts it up to me. I know you had reason for giving +Gomez his, and I know this girl wouldn’t lie about +the other. But––well, I don’t get you a-tall, Rathburn, +and that’s a fact. Something tells me I’ve got +to give you a chance, and if I knew what tells me +this I’d wring its neck!”</p> +<p>He stepped close to Rathburn and looked him +straight in the eye.</p> +<p>“Take one of Mallory’s horses. He’s got some +good ones. I give you ten miles in any direction. +If you can make it––it’s your candy. But remember, +Rathburn, I’m going to try to stop you!”</p> +<p>He walked swiftly out of the door, leaving Rathburn +staring at the smiling girl.</p> +<p>Laura stepped close to him and nodded. Rathburn +shook his head.</p> +<p>“I can’t see where I’ve got the right to give Long +any more trouble.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>“But he isn’t letting you go, Roger. He’s putting +it up to you, and he means what he says when +he declares he’ll try to get you.”</p> +<p>“If he does, he’ll probably get me,” mused Rathburn.</p> +<p>“But maybe he won’t get <i>us</i>, Roger.”</p> +<p>“Us?”</p> +<p>“You and I, Roger. Listen! There’s a land ’way +up north, Roger. I’ve read about it. It’s past the +desert and the mountains and the plains––in another +country! And there’s a river there, Roger––a river +they call Peace River. I’ve always loved the name. +We’ll go there, Roger, you and I––and father can +come later.”</p> +<p>She looked up at him with shining eyes and put +her arms about his neck, and she saw the unbelievable +wonder in his face. The man trembled. Then +he took her and held her and kissed her, time after +time.</p> +<p>“Joe Price said I could never be satisfied away +from the desert unless I took along something that +was of it,” he muttered hoarsely; “I wonder–––”</p> +<p>“Yes, Roger, he meant me.”</p> +<p>“We can’t make it,” he said softly. “Not the two +of us––but Laura, girlie, <i>this</i> is worth the game!”</p> +<p>“Yes we can, Roger,” she said eagerly. “Think! +We can be married when we’ve left the desert. It’s +not quite ten miles to Boxall Cañon. We can go up +Boxall over the range and cross Death Flat.”</p> +<p>“I was thinking of that, sweetheart,” he replied. +“But no horse can get up Boxall, an’ if he did he +couldn’t get across Death Flat. Few men have +crossed that stretch. It’s well named. I might try +it alone; but you––no, Laura. It just ain’t in the +pictures!”</p> +<p>“We don’t need horses, Roger. You’ve forgotten +the burros. They’ll kill any horse on the desert, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +won’t they? We can take two or three loaded with +food and water.”</p> +<p>“But it’s miles and miles an’ then some––an’ it all +looks alike.”</p> +<p>“But when we’ve reached the other side, Roger?”</p> +<p>He drew away from her and stepped to the door. +He could not see or hear anything. When he turned +and again approached her, his face was white. He +looked at Mallory, who was standing with a look of +stupefaction on his lined face.</p> +<p>“Wait!” he said and stepped into another room. +In a few moments he was back, holding a money +belt in his hands. He took out gold and bills and +deposited the money on the table.</p> +<p>The others stared.</p> +<p>“There’s about six thousand there, Mallory. It’s +gamblin’ money. Turn it in to the bank to make or +help out Doane’s shortage. I’ve got just twenty-five +hundred left which I earned in a better way.”</p> +<p>“Daddy, get the burros!” cried the girl. “We’re +going!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Sheriff Bob Long looked down from a ledge above +a narrow, deep, boulder-strewn, awe-inspiring cañon +and drew in his breath sharply. Below he saw two +human beings and three animals.</p> +<p>“I knew he’d try it,” Long said wonderingly to +himself. “I thought he’d try it afoot. But the girl! +And they’re going to try to cross Death Flat!”</p> +<p>His look of wonder increased, and he made no +move toward the weapons in his holsters.</p> +<p>“I wonder now,” he mused. “Can they make it? +I wonder–––”</p> +<p>He scowled and looked about with a frowning +stare. His gaze again shifted downward. Suddenly +he shrugged and put the wrong end of his unlighted +cigar in his mouth.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></div> +<p>“That’s the queerest cigar I ever had,” he growled, +as he made his way to his horse. “It won’t stay lit +because it wants to be swallowed.”</p> +<p>He mounted and rode slowly back toward the far-reaching +stretches of desert. Once he halted and +turned in his saddle for a backward look.</p> +<p>“He had the makings of the worst bad man this +country ever saw,” he muttered aloud. “Now, if +that woman and another country––but first they’ve +got to get across.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>On the western edge of a great, ghastly plain of +white, in which a deceiving, distant glow was mirrored +in the desert dawn, two figures, a man and a +girl, stood hand in hand. Three shaggy burros, +heavily laden, stood behind them. The burros saw +not the Death Flat ahead, for they were asleep.</p> +<p>And the man and the girl saw not the frightful +white, as of powdered skulls, bare, sinister, sunbaked, +but a vision of a little house in a fragrant +green meadow, with golden fields on either side of a +peaceful river, and forests ranging up to distant hills.</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE END</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>TO THE READER</p> +<hr class='p10' /> +<p>If you have enjoyed this book, you will be glad to +know that there are many others just as well written, +just as interesting, to be had in the Chelsea House +Popular Copyright Novels.</p> +<p>The stories which we will publish in this line have +never appeared in book form before, and they are +without question the best value in the way of cloth-bound +books that has been offered to the reading +public in many years.</p> +<p class='center'>CHELSEA HOUSE<br /> +<br /> +<span class='smcap'>79 Seventh Avenue New York City</span></p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0801 --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Aug 03 16:28:22 -0400 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coyote, by James Roberts + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COYOTE *** + +***** This file should be named 29602-h.htm or 29602-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/0/29602/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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