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"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. Doane nodded weakly. The sheriff looked at Rathburn curiously. "You brought it back? You was up to Joe Price's place."
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 at him, white-faced, his eyes wide and inquiring. The fingers of his right hand relaxed, and the gun fell to the ground.
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. 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. "Eh what's that?"
Sautee?" he asked as he snapped a match into flame. "I thought you were going to return the money," Sautee said sneeringly. "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.
But it would count like sixty in your favor, Rathburn, if you'd give yourself up." 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.
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.
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. 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.
Rathburn sat down heavily and took his hat in his hand. "That makes it different," he said dully, as if to 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." "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'."
I guess I made a mistake in ever thinking of trusting a man of your caliber." "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 myself. But I fooled 'em, Mr. Sautee," he finished in triumph. "What's that?" Sautee asked sharply.
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.
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