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Updated: May 4, 2025
"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. Rathburn's eyes narrowed. His right hand darted to his gun in a flash, and the muzzle of the weapon was pressed into Lamy's ribs. "Get down there!" commanded Rathburn. "Get down."
He stammered during this speech as if he had just remembered something remembered when it was too late. Rathburn noted the frown and the confused expression in Lamy's eyes. He turned abruptly and walked away. A few minutes later he came back to find Lamy sitting with his back to a tree, staring unseeing into the deepening twilight.
"That's the man we're after. Rides a dun-colored horse; tall, light-complexioned. Seen anybody like that around here?" "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." "He was here? Ate here?" The sheriff's voice was excited. Rathburn saw Lamy's eyes widen.
The sound of boots and spurs attested to the quickness with which his order was obeyed. 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. "Coyote, if you're down there I'm not going to take a chance fumbling with that door.
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." "You want some more, Percy?" "My name is Lamy," growlingly replied the other, as he rose cautiously. "Oh, o-h. Percy Lamy." "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."
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. "That all of it?" demanded Rathburn sharply. He made no effort to temper the tones of his voice.
Maybe you know Judge Brown?" "I I've seen him," answered the girl. Rathburn could feel Lamy's knees shaking against him in excitement. "I believe we've met some time," Brown put in. Rathburn thought the justice's voice sounded tired. "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?"
Lamy's eyes flamed with excitement as he turned his mount into the trees. They came to what looked like a bear pit or a prospect hole. It was partly filled with brush. "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." "You can do that with yours," said Rathburn grimly.
In the dim, narrow cellar Rathburn was holding his gun aimed at Lamy's heart. "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. Lamy gasped. Then he slowly nodded his head. "That's your bond!" said Rathburn, as tramping feet sounded overhead. Rathburn rose and crouched under the trapdoor, gun in hand.
"Why, no," replied the girl with a breathless catch in her voice. "I haven't seen any one." "You're sure?" Rathburn frowned at the sheriff's tone, although he kept his eyes on Lamy's white face. He smiled as he remembered that the sheriff had mentioned two men. This doubtless was the cause of Lamy's agitation.
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