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Updated: May 6, 2025
Well, we'll find a way to make you change it back again." "You're a grateful cuss," said Rathburn, grinning. Mannix scowled. It was plain he was not sure of his man, although he was trying to convince himself that he was. "I don't get you," he said growlingly. "No? Didn't you hear that fellow Carlisle say I saved your life by not drawing?" "He'd have got you if you'd tried to draw.
You don't have to come in, of course; but it'll be worth your while. You've got the name, an' you might as well have what goes with it. I'll let you head the outfit an' shoot square all the way." Rathburn laughed scornfully. "When I heard you was out here, Eagen, I guessed it was something like this that brought you here. Maybe you're statin' facts as to this job which, you say, is coming up.
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.
Who let you loose, Jud?" "I'm Sheriff Neal," interposed that individual, a slight, dark man with a bristly mustache. "Come out of there hands free." "For the time being, eh, sheriff? I expect you figure on fixing those hands so they won't be free, eh? Well, all I've got to say is that I hope you won't spend the money foolishly, sheriff." Rathburn leaped lightly out of the cellar.
Rathburn laughed, rinsed his mouth out with water he dipped from the spring in a battered tin cup, and took a swallow before he replied. "Joe, there's two things I want grub an' gaff. I know you've got grub, or you wouldn't be here; but I don't know if you're any good at the gaff any more." The old man scrutinized him. "You look some older," he said finally.
At the end of thirty-six hours, Rathburn was congratulating himself; at the end of thirty-seven he was crying, "Down, sir down!" to a joy-crazed little dog which had come leaping down the mountain-side with eighteen inches of rope dangling at his heels a rope whose frayed and tattered end showed the marks of sharp little teeth. Rathburn gave it up after that, and Stub stayed on.
A few rods distant from the Town Hall, but on the opposite side of the street, stood the Rossville Academy. It had been for some years under the charge of James Rathburn, A. M., a thorough scholar and a skilful teacher. A large part of his success was due to his ability in making the ordinary lessons of the schoolroom interesting to his scholars.
"He robbed that bank because he thought I had betrayed his trust, Sheriff Long!" cried Laura, her eyes shining. "Are we going, Long?" cried Rathburn in an agony. The sheriff stepped to the door and called to some of his men who entered and bore the bodies of Doane and Eagen out of the sitting room.
"An' I can tell quick enough when I get a good look at you an' inspect your left forearm. I've had your descriptions in front of my eyes on paper an' from a dozen persons that knowed you for three years!" "You been trailing me?" asked Rathburn curiously.
"But I'm taking a chance on it that you won't. I don't care who you are, what you are now, or what you've been; I don't care if you're an outlaw! I figure, Rathburn, that if I come out square and trust you with this mission and depend upon you to carry it out, that you'll play square with me. That's what I'm banking on your own sense of squareness. You've got it, for I can see it in your eyes."
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