As he rode westward along the road at a swinging lope, Rathburn made no apparent effort to conceal his movements. The night sky was bright with stars, and, although the moon was not up, the road was clearly outlined through the marching stands of timber as he swung upward past the cabin where he had met the girl said to be Carlisle’s sister.

Rathburn could not forget the look on the girl’s face when she had asked him about the activities of the officer in the automobile. Nor could he forget the expression in her eyes during her altercation with Carlisle that day.

After he had passed the cabin, Rathburn checked his pace and proceeded more slowly up the long stretches of road to the hogback. On the hogback he began to take advantage of the screen of timber on the lower side of the road, and to ride more cautiously. However, to any one who might have been watching, his movements still would have been easily discernible, and it would have appeared that he wasn’t quite sure of himself. Twice he turned off at what he appeared to think was the beginning of a trail, and both times he again turned back to the road.

Then, as he reached the south end of the hogback where the trail left the road and cut straight across to the mine, two horsemen broke from the timber, and Rathburn reined in his horse as the guns which covered him glinted.

The taller of the pair of night riders kept him 137 covered with two guns while the other rode in close and jerked the weapon from his holster.

“C’mon with the package!” said this man in a hoarse voice. “We won’t take a chance on you. If you make any kind of a break you’ll get it where it’ll do most good.”

There was a sneering inflection in the voice.

Rathburn’s hand, as it moved downward toward his shirt, hovered an instant above where his good gun was stuck in his waistband, out of sight under the skirt of his coat; then it moved to the open shirt at his throat. He drew out the package and held it out toward the other.

The man closed in and snatched the package, glancing at it in the dim starlight.

“Now back the way you came an’ don’t invite no shootin’!” was the brief command.

Rathburn whirled his horse and drove in his spurs. As he fled from the scene a harsh laugh came to his ears from behind. Then utter silence save for the pounding of his horse’s hoofs in the hard road back down the hogback.

“Jog along, hoss,” Rathburn crooned as he sped down the long slopes toward town; “maybe we’re peggin’ things wrong, an’ if it turns out that way we’ve a powerful long ways to go.”

It lacked a few minutes of being two hours after midnight when he reached the Carlisle cabin. There he reined in his horse, dismounted in the shadow of the timber, and crept to a window. The moon had risen and was bathing the hills in a ghostly light in which every object stood out clear-cut and easily distinguishable. Rathburn peered into the two front windows, but could see nothing. Then, from a side window into which the moonlight filtered, he made out a bedroom. It was not occupied. 138 From the other side of the cabin he saw another bedroom, and it, too, was unoccupied.

“Nobody home,” he muttered cheerfully as he ran for his horse.

In another minute he was again speeding down the road toward town. He slacked his pace as he reached the upper end of the short main street. The street was dark save for two beams of yellow light, one of which shone from a window of the jail office and the other from the front of the Red Feather resort.

He walked his horse down the street past the jail and the resort and almost to the end of the line of buildings where he arrived before the small, one-story, two-room structure which was Sautee’s office and abode.

The place was dark. Rathburn dismounted and led his horse into the dark shadow at the side of the little building. Then he went around to the front, and, drawing his gun from his waistband, he rapped smartly on the door with its butt and dropped it into his holster.

There was no movement within, and Rathburn rapped again and tried the door. It was locked.

A match flared into flame somewhere beyond the front room. A glow of light followed. Rathburn, looking through the front window, saw a door open wide and made out the form of Sautee as the mines manager came forward to the front door.

“Who is it?” Sautee called cautiously.

“Rathburn.”

After a moment a key turned in the lock and the door opened part way. Rathburn pushed his way in.

“Why––didn’t you go?” asked Sautee in excited tones.

“Lock the door an’ come in the other room,” 139 whispered Rathburn. “I’ve got something to tell you that’ll knock you for a goal.”

Sautee hurriedly locked the door, and, as he turned to lead the way into the other room, Rathburn deftly extracted the key.

In the light from the lamp in the bedroom Sautee swung on his visitor and looked at him keenly. The mines manager was fully dressed, and the bed was made. It was evident that he had merely dozed on top of the covers with his clothes on. These things Rathburn noted even as Sautee surveyed him with a frown.

“Well, what is it?” snapped out Sautee.

Rathburn blinked in the light. “I––I was held up,” he said sheepishly.

The mines manager stared. First he stared into Rathburn’s eyes, and then he glanced to the gun in the holster on his thigh.

“Couldn’t have been very much afraid of you,” he said sneeringly. “I see they didn’t even take your gun.”

“It all come from my not knowin’ enough about the trails, I guess,” Rathburn explained lamely. “Got me on the far end of the hogback. Two of ’em. Had their guns in my face before I knew it. Couldn’t have drawed if I wanted to. They’d have shot me out of the saddle in a wink. All I could do was hand over the package an’ beat it.”

“And they said you were a gunman,” said Sautee in derision. “How do I know anybody stopped you and robbed you? Maybe you’ve come back here with that story to cover up the theft of the money. 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 140 myself. But I fooled ’em, Mr. Sautee,” he finished in triumph.

“What’s that?” Sautee asked sharply.

“Look here,” cried Rathburn excitedly as he took off his hat and recovered the package he had put in it before starting toward the mine.

He held up the package. “I was scared they might get wise an’ get the drop on me,” he said. “So I opened the package an’ took out what was in it and put it in my hat. They got the original package, all right, but it was stuffed with an old glove of mine. Here’s the money. I didn’t go right on to the mine for fear they’d find out their mistake an’ pot me from the timber. This is the money you gave me, minus the seals an’ the string an’ box. I wanted you to see that I was on the square.”

Sautee’s eyes were bulging. “Give me that,” he gulped out.

“Why––don’t you want me to take it to the mine?” asked Rathburn in surprise.

“Hand that over,” ordered Sautee, reaching for the package.

Rathburn drew away. “All right, Mr. Sautee,” he said in a complaining voice. “If you don’t want me to go through with the job you can back down, I guess. We’ll just make sure the money’s here, though.”

Sautee leaped toward him.

“Give me that package!” he cried angrily. “Do you hear me?”

Rathburn warded him off, keeping the package at arm’s length away.

“Just hold your horses,” he said coldly. “I reckon I know what I’m doing. You don’t trust me now, an’ I ain’t goin’ to take any chances with you. I’m goin’ to open this an’ show you that 141 the money’s there, that’s all; I’m goin’ to show you that I’m giving you back what you gave me all fair an’ square.”

Sautee’s face was ashen. His voice trembled as he spoke again: “Hand it over and get out of here. I’ve had enough trouble with you. I’ll take your word for it.”

But Rathburn was undoing the paper wrappings.

Again Sautee made a leap, but this time he met Rathburn’s left fist and staggered back, dropping into a chair. Rathburn looked at him coldly.

“Funny you’re so anxious to take my word for things now, when a minute ago you said you couldn’t know but what I’d told that holdup story for a blind so’s I could get away with––this!”

The wrappings fell away, revealing a wad of blank paper.

Rathburn’s face froze. Sautee stared white-faced at what the other held in his hand. Then a peculiar glint came into his eyes and he looked at Rathburn narrowly.

“So that’s the way of it,” he said sarcastically.

Rathburn stuffed the paper into a pocket. Then he pulled a chair in front of the mines manager and sat down. He took out paper and tobacco from his shirt pocket and began to fashion a cigarette.

“It sure looks bad for me, doesn’t it, Mr. 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. Now, when I find that the package you gave to me was full of blank paper, you can say that I framed the holdup 142 story and changed the money for paper in the bargain.”

Sautee’s eyes were glowing. “An’ you’ll have to beat it, after all,” he jeered.

“So it would seem,” mused Rathburn. “I fooled ’em, an’ to all appearances I fooled myself, although maybe I did take a peep into that package when I changed it in my room, Mr. Sautee.”

The mines manager shifted in his chair; but he stared defiantly at Rathburn.

“You’d have a hard time proving anything,” he said grimly.

“That’s the trouble,” Rathburn admitted. “I’d sort of have to depend on you. I was thinkin’ maybe you double crossed me to make ’em think I was carrying the money while you sneaked it up some other way, Mr. Sautee.”

“You can think what you want to,” said Sautee. “But you better start moving. If I was you, I’d get as far away from this town and Mannix as I could by daylight.”

Rathburn’s manner underwent a lightning change as he threw away his partly finished cigarette.

“You’re right,” he said crisply. “It’s time to start moving, Sautee.”

He rose, and his right hand moved incredibly fast. Sautee gasped as he looked into the bore of Rathburn’s gun. He could hardly realize that Rathburn had drawn.

“I fooled the night riders twice,” explained Rathburn with a peculiar smile. “First, when I let ’em get the wrong package, an’ again when I let ’em get the wrong gun. This gun an’ I work together like clock ticks when necessary. I’ll have to ask you to fork over the money that you drew from the bank an’ that should have been in that package, Sautee.”

Rathburn’s eyes had narrowed and hardened; his words were cold and menacing––deadly in their absolute sincerity.

“What––what do you mean?” stammered the mines manager.

“I take it you’re not deaf,” snapped out Rathburn. “Maybe you don’t know it, Sautee, but so help me, you’re takin’ a chance by acting like you didn’t get me.”

Sautee’s thin face was twitching in a spasm of commingled rage and fear.

“The Coyote!” he breathed.

“Who told you that?” demanded Rathburn on the instant.

Sautee gripped the sides of his chair, and his face went a shade more pallid.

“Carlisle,” he confessed in a strained voice.

Rathburn laughed, and the mines manager shivered as he heard.

“Now, Sautee, we’ll quit beatin’ around the bush,” Rathburn said through his teeth. “We’ll get down to business together, or I’ll begin to search your place here. But if I have to search, I’ll search alone. There ain’t so much chance of a shot bein’ heard way up the street; an’ there ain’t much chance of me bein’ caught on that hoss of mine if I don’t want to get caught. Also, I’m beginning to feel like I was in a hurry. Fork over that money!”

Sautee looked just an instant longer into the eyes of the man towering over him. Then he rose, shaking, dry-lipped, and knelt down by the head of the bed. He lifted a piece of the carpet, opened a small trapdoor, reached inside, and brought out a bundle of bank notes. Rathburn took the money from him.

Sautee still was kneeling as he heard Rathburn 144 walk lightly to the front door and insert the key in the lock. He tried to cry out, but the effort resulted only in a croak in his throat. He heard the door close softly.

“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.