Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 7, 2025
Thus they came to a long stretch of open, level trail. Here Rathburn's horse began slowly to gain. 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 kept on, half-turned in the saddle, watching his pursuer keenly. Rathburn continued to gain upon him.
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. 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.
"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. The boy's eyes were open and were staring into Rathburn's. Rathburn lifted him to his feet, where he stood unsteadily. Again the gun was in Rathburn's hand. "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 proved to be a 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. "Kind of early, ain't you, boss?" grinned the porter. "Maybe you're lookin' for something to start the day with." He winked broadly.
Sautee cowered back under the fierceness in Rathburn's manner. "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."
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. 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.
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? 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!
"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." For some time the old man was silent. When he spoke he put an arm about Rathburn's shoulder.
His horse shied, and he was dragged from the saddle, landing on his feet, but falling instantly. 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.
For a moment Rathburn's hand rested on hers, as he looked down at her. "There's two ways of forgettin', girlie," he said soberly. "An' I don't want 'em to forget me the wrong way." "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.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking