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Updated: May 7, 2025
Carlisle's face was purple and working in spasms of rage. He realized instantly that Rathburn had spoken the truth. "It was his scheme from the start!" shrilled Sautee from the protection of Rathburn's broad shoulders. Then the mine manager, unable to longer stand the strain, collapsed on the ground, groaning. "Underhanded!" Carlisle shot through his teeth as Mannix stepped back.
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. Rathburn's horse had not been hard ridden the day preceding, nor for several days before that.
"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!" The captive rose and without a look back walked to where Rathburn's horse was cropping the grass. 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.
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.
"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. "So you were taking the play in your own hands," Mannix accused. 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. Rathburn's face went white.
"That's puttin' it up to me all fair an' square," Rathburn replied evenly. "I'll give it right back to you, Eagen." "Get that gun out of the window." "Mallory." "Right here, Rathburn, an' all set," came Mallory's voice. "Get that gun out of the window." "What's that? Don't you see there's three of 'em? You " "Get that gun out of the window!" rang Rathburn's voice.
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: "They'll be watchin' hard for you down the cañon, boy. Bob Long's sure to mean business this 'ere time." "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.
The man was regarding him intently, and there seemed to be an amused expression in his eyes. He turned away from Rathburn's gaze. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman," said Rathburn agreeably. "That's George Sautee, manager of the Dixie Queen," said the deputy with a shrug. Sautee rose and extended his hand with an affable smile.
For Rathburn's gaze had narrowed; and it shot from his eyes steel blue with a flash of fire. His face 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. "Lamy, hand over that money!"
"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." "Suppose I refuse to go?" "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.
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