TWO QUEER MOVES
The captive complied with the order, looking at Rathburn in a peculiar
way--half disgusted, half contemptuous. Indeed, he turned his back on
the other, leaned against the slender trunk of a pine, and stared
steadily into the south. He appeared much worried.
The horses welcomed the chance to rest.
Rathburn walked slowly back and forth the width of the patch of
timber, vigilantly keeping watch. He paid no attention whatsoever to
the man leaning against the tree. For all the interest he displayed he
might have completely forgotten his very existence. In time this got
on the other's nerves.
"I believe you lied when you said there was a man killed down there
last night," he said coolly.
"I didn't say anybody was killed," Rathburn returned without looking
in his direction. "You assumed that part of it."
"Then you wanted me to think so," said the other in a loud voice. "You
was tryin' to throw a scare into me!"
Rathburn swung on his heel and stepped squarely in front of him. "I
let you think that to show you what _might_ have happened," he said.
"Such things have happened to me an' swelled the price on my head.
Now, darn you, if you talk that loud again I'll choke your wind off!"
The words came with sinister earnestness, but they seemed to rouse
some dormant strain of extraordinary courage in the man to whom they
were addressed.
He suddenly leaped from the tree and struck out with all the force at
his command.
But Rathburn had anticipated the attack. He knocked the other's blow
aside and drove his right straight to the jaw.
"There's a little souvenir to show you that I mean business, Percy,"
he panted.
Percy came back to the attack with eyes gleaming with malice. Again he
attempted to hit Rathburn, but the latter stepped aside with lightning
swiftness and drove home another blow. He followed it up with a left
and right and Percy sprawled his length on the grass.
After a time he sat up, dazed. Rathburn was standing over him. But
although he realized fully that he was not a match for Rathburn in
physical combat, and doubtless was greatly his inferior with his gun,
his spirit was undaunted.
"You better finish me, or drag me in," he gritted; "for I'll get you,
if I can. I don't know what your play is, but you've acted too queer
to-day for me to believe you're on the square one way or the other."
"You want some more, Percy?"
"My name is Lamy," growlingly replied the other, as he rose
cautiously.
"Oh, o-h. Percy Lamy."
"No, just Lamy. Lamy's my name, an' I ain't ashamed of it. You'd find
it out--sooner or later--anyway, I--expect." He stammered during this
speech as if he had just remembered something--remembered when it was
too late.
Rathburn noted the frown and the confused expression in Lamy's eyes.
He turned abruptly and walked away.
A few minutes later he came back to find Lamy sitting with his back
to a tree, staring unseeing into the deepening twilight.
"Lamy," he said harshly, "we're going to get away from this
posse--maybe. Anyway, soon's it's dark we'll ride south. It's just
possible we can leave 'em up here in the hills."
"Suppose I refuse to go?"
"Then I'll have to truss you up an' tie you to your horse, an' don't
think I won't do it!" The ring of menace in Rathburn's voice convinced
the other, but he made no comment.
When darkness had fallen they saddled their mounts and started. They
rode at a jog, keeping as much as possible in the shadow of the
timber. Rathburn noticed that the valley gradually widened; he showed
interest in his surroundings.
Then, off to the left below them, he saw moving shadows. He called a
halt at the next clump of trees. "Lamy, are there any horses running
in here that you know of?" he asked.
"There probably are," said Lamy sarcastically; "an' they've probably
got riders on 'em."
"No doubt," returned Rathburn gravely. "I just saw some shadows that
looked like horses down to the left of us."
"I expected they'd shut us off in the south," snapped out Lamy. "You
gave 'em plenty of time."
"We just naturally had to rest our horses," observed Rathburn. "As it
is, they're not good for far, nor for any fast riding. Besides, I've
changed my mind some since this morning."
"So? I suppose you're goin' to give me a chance?" sneeringly inquired
the other.
He could see Rathburn's eyes in the twilight, and suddenly he shifted
in his saddle uneasily. For Rathburn's gaze had narrowed; and it shot
from his eyes steel blue with a flash of fire. His face had set in
cold, grim lines. The whole nature of the man seemed to undergo a
change. He radiated menace, contempt, cold resentment. The corners of
his mouth twisted down sharply. His voice, as he spoke now, seemed
edged like a knife.
"Lamy, hand over that money!"
Lamy's brows lifted in swift comprehension; a look of cunning came
into his eyes--was followed by a gleam of hope, not unmixed with
derision. He thrust his hands into his coat pockets and held out bills
and silver to Rathburn who stuffed the plunder into his own pockets.
"That all of it?" demanded Rathburn sharply. He made no effort to
temper the tones of his voice.
For answer Lamy dug into his trousers' pockets, under his chaps, and
produced two more rolls of bills.
"That's the chunk," he said with a sneering inflection in his voice.
"If you want I'll stand a frisk."
"No, I won't search you. I take it you're too sensible to lie!"
"Thanks," replied Lamy dryly. "I suppose I'm free to go now, unless
you figure you'd be safer by killin' me off."
Anger, swift and uncontrollable, leaped into Rathburn's eyes. Then he
laughed, softly and mirthlessly. "If I'd been minded to do for you, or
had any such idea in my head, I'd have given it to you long before
this," he said. "It's lucky for you, Lamy, that I'm pretty much the
breed you thought I was."
"Don't pose!" retorted Lamy hotly. "You intended to get that money and
make me the goat if you could, from the start. If you'd had any idea
of turnin' me over to Brown you'd have done that little thing, too,
long before this."
"Maybe so," Rathburn mused, staring at the other thoughtfully in the
dim light of the stars. "Maybe I will yet. You're not out of this--an'
neither am I. Those shadows down to the left are getting plainer.
What's that long dark streak over there on the right?"
"Those are trees," answered Lamy sneeringly.
"Let's make for 'em," ordered Rathburn. "Don't forget you're still
under orders, Lamy. An' don't overlook the fact that I'm more or less
in earnest about things in general," he added significantly.
They rode at a tangent for the dark shadow of the trees. At the edge
of the timber ensued another long wait, with Rathburn uncommunicative,
moodily pacing restlessly back and forth. The horses had another
excellent opportunity to rest and the fagged animals took advantage of
it.
Once or twice Rathburn thought he glimpsed a light far down the
valley, but he couldn't be sure. Neither could he be sure he saw the
moving shadows on the opposite side of the wide valley again.
The night wore into early morning and the moon added its cold radiance
to the faint glow of the myriads of stars. Rathburn sensed the
nearness of enemies. Several times he stopped before Lamy, who sat
upon his saddle blanket with his back against a tree trunk and dozed.
Rathburn had to fight off continual drowsiness.
For long hours he walked along the edge of the pines. He dared not
trust himself to sleep. He dared not trust Lamy to stand guard while
he obtained some rest, and he knew that when the sun came up and the
day began, he would be thoroughly awake again; for more than once he
had gone two nights without sleep. Also, he assumed that the hunt
would be less spirited during the night. Members of the posse would
themselves be drowsy, but they could spell each other and in that way
maintain their vigil and secure a few hours of rest.
Rathburn's rage rose at frequent intervals as he thought of the
predicament he was in through no fault of his own. More than once he
glared malevolently at the sleeping Lamy; then the troubled look would
come again to his eyes and he would resume his pacing, muttering to
himself, staring into the blue veil of the night. Once he sat down and
removed his right boot and sock in the darkness; shortly afterward he
again began his pacing.
He felt the pangs of hunger and shook his head savagely as he thought
of the scanty supply of provisions he had been compelled to leave in
the mountain pocket.
His spirits revived as he thought of the horses. They would be fresh
in the morning; and he intended that his horse should have a grain
feed that day. Rathburn always thought of his horse first; and,
although it might seem that he taxed the animal's powers to their
utmost at times, he never went beyond a certain point. He had often
said he would surrender to his pursuers rather than kill his mount in
evading them.
The first faint glimmer of the dawn was lighting the skies above the
ridges to the eastward when he roused Lamy. He awoke with a start,
stared sleepily at Rathburn, then got speedily to his feet.
"You been awake all night?" he asked curiously.
Rathburn nodded, looking at him closely. "Saddle up," he ordered.
They rode southward at a canter in the shelter of the edge of the
timber. When the eastern skies were rosy red and fast changing to
gold with the advent of the sun they saw two things; a small ranch
house about a mile southeast of them, and two riders some distance
north.
Rathburn reined in his mount. He looked at Lamy who met his gaze in
defiance. Then Rathburn reached into his coat pocket with his right
hand and drew out a gun.
"Here's your shooting iron," he said, as he held the weapon out to
Lamy.
The other stared at him in astonishment.
"Take it!" snapped out Rathburn. "Take it, or I may change my mind!"
Lamy took the gun wonderingly, balanced it for a moment in his hand,
and shoved it into his holster.
Rathburn motioned toward the south and Lamy rode along at his side.
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.
Rathburn looked at Lamy soberly. However, it was Lamy who spoke first.
"You said the best place to hide from a posse was in the middle of
it," he said scornfully. "Why not leave the horses in the timber an'
run for the house? Maybe it has a cellar."
"I reckon that would be as good a move as any," replied Rathburn, to
the other's surprise. "I'm game if you are."
Lamy's eyes flamed with excitement as he turned his mount into the
trees. They came to what looked like a bear pit or a prospect hole.
It was partly filled with brush.
"We can hide our saddles in there an' let the horses go," Lamy
suggested. "There's a few horses runnin' in through here, an' they may
join 'em."
"You can do that with yours," said Rathburn grimly. "You seem to
forget that the brand on this dun is pretty well known."
He coolly tied his horse as Lamy followed his own suggestion, hid his
saddle, and turned his mount loose.
They moved back to the edge of the timber and waited until they could
see no one in sight about the house or in any direction in the valley.
Then they started on a run for the house.