The Coyote Part 19

The other's eyes narrowed, and Rathburn thought he detected a glow of recognition and satisfaction.

"Did you have your bath?" sneeringly inquired the man.

Rathburn's brows lifted. Then he smiled queerly. "I sure did. Why? Did I maybe keep you waiting? Was you next?"

The other's eyes blazed with wrath. "Let me give you a tip, my friend; you ain't right well acquainted in this here locality, are you?"

Rathburn now noted that they had attracted immediate attention. The tall, dark man, then, was a personage of importance. He noted another thing, too--rather, he realized it by instinct as well as by certain mannerisms. The man before him knew how to use the weapon which hung low on his right thigh.

"If you mean was I born here, or do I live here, I'd say no," Rathburn drawled; "but I happen to be here at this precise time so I'd say I'm right well acquainted with it."

A hush had come over the place. Interested faces were turned in their direction, and Rathburn sensed an ominous tremor of keen expectancy.

The fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes tightened a bit.

"This is a poor time for strangers to be hanging around," said the dark man in a loud voice. "The Dixie Queen pay-roll has been taking wings too often."

The implication and the murmur from the spectators was not lost upon Rathburn. His lips tightened into a fine, white line.

"Whoever you are, you've got more mouth than brains!" he said crisply in a voice which carried over the room.

The effect of his words was electric. There was a sharp intaking of breath from the spectators. The dark man's face froze, and his eyes darted red. His right hand seemed to hang on the instant for the swoop to his gun. Rathburn appeared to be smiling queerly out of his eyes.

Then came a sharp interruption.

"Just a minute, Carlisle!"

Rathburn recognized the voice of Mannix, and a moment later the deputy stepped between them.

"What's the idea?" he asked coolly.

"This gentleman you just called Carlisle seems to have appointed himself a reception committee to welcome me into the enterprising town of High Point," drawled Rathburn, with a laugh.

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."

Mannix's eyes hardened before he spoke again. He hesitated, but when his words came they were clear-cut and stern.

"Then come with me an' I'll show you where to sleep."

"You mean in jail?" queried Rathburn.

Mannix nodded coldly.

"Sheriff," said Rathburn, in a peculiar tone, addressing the deputy but looking over his shoulder directly into Carlisle's eyes; "if there's one thing I'm noted for, it's for being a good guesser!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE DIXIE'S BOSS

If Mannix expected any resistance from Rathburn he soon found that none was to materialize. The deputy, a short, rather stout man of perhaps thirty-nine, with bronzed features, clear, brown eyes, and a protruding jaw covered with a stubble of reddish-brown beard, was nevertheless wary of his prisoner. He had not yet obtained Rathburn's gun, and he recognized the unmistakable signs of a seasoned gunman in the lounging but graceful postures of his prisoner, in the way he moved his right hand, in the alertness of his eye. He frowned, for Rathburn was smiling. There was a quality to that smile which was not lost upon the doughty officer.

"I take it you've got sense enough to come along easylike," he said, with just a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Yes, I've been known to show some sense, sheriff; now that's a fact."

"I'll have to ask you for your gun," said the deputy grimly.

"I've never been known to hand over my gun, sheriff," drawled Rathburn. "Now that's another fact."

Again the tension in the room was high. Others than Mannix, and probably Carlisle, had readily discerned in the gray-eyed stranger a certain menacing prowess which is much respected where weapons are the rule in unexpected emergencies. The crowd backed to the wall.

The deputy wet his lips, and his face grew a shade paler. Then suddenly he went for his gun, as Rathburn dropped, like a shot, to the floor. There came the crack of Carlisle's pistol and a laugh from Rathburn. The deputy, gun in hand, stared at Rathburn who rose quickly to his feet. Then he thought to cover him. Rathburn raised his hands while Carlisle returned his own smoking weapon to its holster. Mannix turned and glared at Carlisle in perplexity.

"I don't know what his game is, Mannix; but he could have drawn down on you in a wink and shot you in your tracks if he'd wanted to," said Carlisle.

"So you were taking the play in your own hands," Mannix accused.

The deputy looked at Rathburn angrily. Then he advanced and took the prisoner's six-shooter from him. He brought handcuffs out of his pockets.

Rathburn's face went white. "If what Carlisle says is true, it doesn't look as if I was trying to get away, does it, sheriff?" he asked coldly.

Mannix was thoughtful for a moment. "Well, come along," he ordered, thrusting the steel bracelets back into his pocket.

"I'll go with you," Carlisle volunteered.

"That's up to you," snapped out the deputy. "I ain't asking you to."

The trio left the place as the spectators gazed after them in wonder.

There was a hum of excited conversation as the deputy and his prisoner and Carlisle pa.s.sed through the door.

No word was spoken on the way to the small, two-room, one-story structure which served as a detention place for persons under arrest until they could be transferred to the county jail in the town where the railroad touched. Petty offenders served their sentences there, however.

In the little front office of the jail, Rathburn looked with interest at some posters on the walls. One in particular claimed his attention, and he read it twice while the deputy was getting some keys and calling to the jailer, who evidently was on the other side of the barred door where the few cells and the "tank" were.

This is what Rathburn read:

REWARD