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Updated: May 7, 2025
Mannix turned on Carlisle with a scowl, and Carlisle shrugged impatiently, his eyes still glaring balefully at Rathburn. The deputy again confronted Rathburn. "Had your supper?" he asked. "Best steak I've had in two months," Rathburn replied cheerfully. "Horse taken care of?" "First thing." There was a note of derision in Rathburn's tone. "Service at the hotel barn is high grade."
"Did he make you guide him?" Neal asked Lamy, noting his empty holster. Rathburn turned so that he could look at his former captive. Lamy nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I didn't know what minute I was goin' to get shot in the back." 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 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."
"The Coyote!" he mumbled, passing a hand across his forehead. The echoes of galloping hoofs came to him as he scrambled to his feet and staggered toward the door. 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.
He refused to change his direction, although by going north, the stout, speedy dun could doubtless outdistance the posse before the afternoon was spent. 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.
You broke jail. They ain't forgot that 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!" Rathburn's eyes were points of red between narrowed lids. "The Coyote!" said Carlisle in a hoarse voice of triumph. "An' the way it looks I'm the only one hereabouts that knows it."
At times he muttered to himself. 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.
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. 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."
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. Rathburn's thoughts dwelt on what Gomez had said.
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. "So I was right!" he exclaimed.
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