The Coyote Page 11

  Rathburn frowned and built another cigarette.

  “If you’ll carry this package of money up to the Dixie Queen for me, Rathburn, I’ll pay you five hundred dollars. Then, if you want to stay and act as our messenger right along, we’ll make a deal. But I’d like to have you do this this time––make this one trip, anyway, I mean. They may try to stop you. If they do I don’t believe they can get away with it. I’m banking on your ability to get through, and I think the proposition will appeal to you in a sporting way if for no other reason. Will you do it?” Sautee’s eyes were eager.

  “Yes,” said Rathburn shortly, tossing away his cigarette.

  Sautee held out his hand. “Go to the hotel and engage a room,” he instructed. “Be in your room at nine o’clock to-night. Do not tell any one of our deal. I’ll get your room number from the register. I’ll bring the package of money to you between nine o’clock and midnight. Now, Rathburn, maybe I’m mistaken in you; but I go a whole lot by what I see in a man’s eyes. You may have a hard record, but I’m staking my faith in men on you!”

  “I’ll be there,” Rathburn promised.

  He left Sautee at the entrance to the restaurant and strolled around the hotel barn to see that his horse was being taken care of properly. He found that the barn man was indeed looking after the dun in excellent shape. Rathburn spent a short time with his mount, petting him and rubbing his glossy coat with his hands. Then he took his slicker pack and started for the hotel.

  As he reached the street he saw a girl on a horse talking with a man on the sidewalk. The girl was leaning over, and the man evidently was delivering a harangue. He was gesticulating wildly, and Rathburn could see that the girl was cowering. He paused on the hotel porch as the man stepped away from the horse and looked his way. He recognized Carlisle.

  Then the girl rode down the street and Rathburn started with surprise as he saw she was the girl from the cabin up the road who had directed him to town the day before. He remembered the two objects he had picked up in the road after the holdup and felt in his pocket to make sure they were there. Then he entered the hotel.

  “Have you a room?” he asked the clerk pleasantly.

  “Yes. More rooms than anything else to-day since the Sunday crowd’s gone.”

  Rathburn wrote his name upon the register.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XVIII

  IN THE NIGHT

  Rathburn avoided the Red Feather resort during the morning. Instead of walking about the streets or sitting in the hotel lobby or his room, he cultivated the acquaintance of the barn man, and because he knew horses––all about horses––he soon had the man’s attention and respect.

  Although Rathburn suspected that he already had a reputation in the town, he did not know that Carlisle was steadily adding to that reputation through the medium of veiled hints dropped here and there until a majority of the population was convinced that a desperate man was in their midst, and that Mannix had permitted him to go free for certain secret reasons.

  Thus a web of mystery and suspicion was cleverly woven about Rathburn’s movements.

  It was not until afternoon, however, that Rathburn began to realize on his intimacy with the barn man. Then they began to talk of trails, and for more than an hour the barn man, caught in the spell of Rathburn’s personality, divulged the secret of the trails leading to and from the Dixie Queen.

  “The best trail, an’ the straightest, if you should ever want to go up there an’ look at the mine like you say,” said the barn man, “hits into the timber behind the first cabin to the left above town.”

  Rathburn nodded smilingly. It was the cabin where he had first seen the girl.

  “It’s ’bout twenty-nine miles to the mine by the road,” the man explained; “but that trail will take you there in less’n twenty. Well, maybe twenty or twenty-one. Or you can go up the road till you get to the big hogback––that’s where they held up the truck driver yesterday––and cut straight up the hill from the south end.”

  “I guess those are the best trails from what you say,” was Rathburn’s yawning comment.

  “Them’s the best,” the other added. “There’s another trail going out below town that follows southeast along a big ridge, but that trail’s as far as the road. When you goin’ up?”

  “I dunno,” replied Rathburn noncommittally. “Say, I guess I know where that cabin is on the left side of the road going up. I stopped at a cabin up there coming down an’ asked a gal how far it was to town–––”

  “That’s it,” said the barn man. “That’s the one. Trail starts right back of that cabin.”

  Rathburn yawned again. “Smart-lookin’ gal,” he observed, digging for his tobacco and papers. “Who is she?”

  “That’s Joe Carlisle’s sister. Anyway, he says she is. There’s been some talk. Carlisle lives there when he ain’t out in the hills or on a gamblin’ trip to some other town.”

  “I see. Well, old-timer, I ain’t hung on the feed bag since morning, an’ I’m going on a still hunt for some grub.”

  Rathburn went to the Red Feather for his dinner. He was thoughtful through the meal and kept an eye out for Carlisle, but didn’t see him. During the remainder of the afternoon he hung about the Red Feather and other resorts, but did not see Carlisle.

  That evening, as he was returning to the hotel, he met Mannix. The deputy looked at him with a scowl in which there was a mixture of curiosity. Rathburn suddenly remembered what Sautee had said about his company being on the outs with the county administration. If such was the case, Rathburn reflected, how did it come that Sautee had been able to effect his release so easily?

  He stopped as he drew alongside of the deputy. “This man Sautee,” he drawled, looking Mannix square in the eye; “he must have a good drag with the county seat, eh?”

  The deputy’s scowl deepened. “He didn’t get you out by word of mouth alone,” he said sharply. “I haven’t got anything on you, Rathburn––yet.”

  Rathburn smiled. “I reckon you’re a sheriff after my own heart,” he said enigmatically, and moved on.

  Mannix looked back after him for a moment, then continued on his way.

  Rathburn had dinner that night at the hotel, and it was during the course of a number of pleasantries with the waitress, who thought he was looking for work, that he ascertained that Sautee had a little two-room building at the lower end of the street, the front half of which served as an office and the rear half as living quarters.

  At nine o’clock he went to his room. He lighted the oil lamp, pulled down the window shade, sat down in a chair to one side of the door to wait. An hour passed with no sound save occasional footfalls in the hall and the drone of the wind in the trees outside.

  Another hour had nearly been consumed in waiting when Rathburn heard some one coming up the stairs. The footfalls were soft, catlike. He could hardly hear them, and it was this fact which made him instantly alert. The footfalls now sounded in the hallway. They were nearer his room. He rose; stepped close to the side of the door. Then came a soft knock.

  Rathburn suddenly opened the door, and Sautee started back, blinking his eyes. The mines manager peered about the room, then entered swiftly.

  “You rather startled me,” he accused with a forced smile.

  Rathburn closed the door softly and turned the key in the lock.

  “I’m just taking natural precautions,” he explained.

  Sautee shook his head and put a finger to his lips. “Not so loud,” he warned. “These walls”––he waved a hand about––“are all ears.”

  He took a package from beneath his coat and handed it to Rathburn. “Put it in your shirt,” he instructed. “Deliver it to the office at the mine and take the bookkeeper’s receipt. Then report to my office here in town. I wish you luck, and I want you to know that I have the utmost confidence in you.”

  “You keep such large sums on hand all the time?” Rathburn asked, putting the package in his shirt. He was mindful of the f
act that a similar sum had been stolen the day before from the truck driver.

  “There’s a private bank here,” answered Sautee frowningly. “He let me have it, but he’s already sent to the county seat for more cash which will come by auto express to-morrow, probably. Anyway, the bank’ll get most of this back, so their cash won’t be short long.”

  Rathburn nodded. “Let’s see,” he suggested. “There was a little item of five hundred between us for my serving––am I right?”

  “There is such an item,” snapped out Sautee; “when you’ve delivered.”

  “Of course,” replied Rathburn. “I couldn’t expect to be paid in advance. I’m to deliver the money at the mine and report to you for the five hundred.”

  “Exactly,” said Sautee. “Which way you figure on going up?” he asked curiously.

  “Don’t know much about the trails,” Rathburn answered. “An’ it mightn’t attract suspicion if I just struck right out on the road.”

  Sautee shrugged. “Well, that’s up to you,” he said. “Keep your eye peeled. I don’t think any one knows I drew that money from the bank, but I didn’t think any one knew I stuck that package under the truck driver’s seat, either.”

  He turned toward the door.

  “There’s just one other little matter,” said Rathburn softly. “You see nobody knows anything about this deal but you an’ me. Maybe it would be best for my own protection that you scribbled something on a piece of paper to show what our arrangement is.”

  Sautee scowled again, hesitated, then smiled. He drew an envelope from a pocket, extracted its contents, tore it open at each end, and wrote on the blank side:

  Due Rathburn five hundred dollars when he has delivered package intrusted to him by me at the Dixie Queen mine office.

  George Sautee.

  Rathburn nodded in satisfaction as he took the slip of paper and tucked it into his shirt pocket. The wording of the note was a bit complicated, but it bore Sautee’s signature. It was at least evidence that there had been an agreement.

  “Everything set?” asked Sautee.

  “All cinched up an’ ready to go,” replied Rathburn.

  “How soon you going to start?” asked Sautee as he unlocked the door.

  “By midnight,” Rathburn answered.

  Sautee held out his hand before he slipped out of the door and was gone.

  Rathburn quickly busied himself with his slicker pack. He took out a gun which he changed for the gun in his holster. Then he stuck his regular gun into his waistband on the left. He took out the package and examined it. It was sealed at each end. Then Rathburn did a queer thing. He cut the string and paper near the seals and removed the small box within. He next emptied the box of its paper-wrapped contents and substituted the first thing of equal weight which he could lay his hands on––a moleskin glove which was among the things in the slicker pack. He replaced the box in its wrappings and drew from one of his pockets a small bottle of glue.

  “First time I ever stole anything from a hotel desk,” he muttered to himself as he glued the paper back into place; “but I sure had the proper hunch when I grabbed this.”

  Next he retied the string, adding a piece from his slicker pack to offset the shortness where it had been cut. When he had finished the package looked exactly as it had in the first place. It would take a close inspection to learn that it had been tampered with. The original contents of the package he thrust into his hat and pulled the hat well down on his head.

  Then he extinguished the light and made his way downstairs and out the lobby into the street. He went quickly around to the barn where he astonished the man in charge by saddling his horse and riding out without a word of explanation other than to toss him a five-dollar bill from the saddle.

  “See you again to-morrow––maybe,” he called, grinning, as he rode into the night.

  When Rathburn had passed behind the hotel and several other buildings on the same side of the street and gained the road leading westward toward the hogback, a slim shadow darted out of the trees, mounted a horse concealed some distance behind the barn, and slipped into a worn trail which nearly paralleled the road going west.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XIX

  QUICK TURNS

  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 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. 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 fro
nt, 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,” 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.”