A COMMISSION
Sautee rose and extended his hand with an affable smile. "Will you
come to breakfast with me, Mr. Rathburn?"
Rathburn took the hand with a curious side glance at Mannix. "I'm
powerful hungry," he confessed; "an' I don't reckon I'd be showing the
best of manners if I balked at havin' breakfast with the man that got
me out of jail."
"Quite right," admitted Sautee, winking at the deputy. "Well, perhaps
I have my reasons. All right, Rathburn, let's be going."
They walked out of the jail, and as they progressed up the street they
were the cynosure of many wondering pairs of eyes; for the report had
spread that the stranger who had been jailed was the bandit who had
made away with the Dixie Queen pay-roll on several occasions, and that
he was a gun fighter and a killer.
They entered a restaurant just below the hotel, and Sautee led the way
to a booth where they were assured comparative privacy.
"Ham an' eggs," said Rathburn shortly when the waiter entered.
Sautee smiled again. He was covertly inspecting the man across the
table from him and evidently what he saw caused him to arrive at a
satisfactory conclusion.
He gave his order with a nod and a mild flourish of the hand,
indicating that he would take the same.
"Oh--waiter," called Rathburn. "Four eggs with mine."
Sautee laughed. It was a peculiar laugh in that it seemed to convey
little mirth. It was perfunctory.
He gazed at Rathburn quizzically. "They tell me you're a gunman," he
said in a low voice.
Rathburn's brows shot up. "They? Who's they?"
Sautee waved a hand impatiently. "I am the manager of the Dixie Queen.
I have been around a bit, and I have eyes. I can see. I know the
signals. I witnessed the play in the Red Feather last night."
"That ain't a bad name for the place," Rathburn mused.
"Just what do you suppose was my object in getting you out of jail?"
Sautee asked seriously, leaning over the table and looking at Rathburn
searchingly. "You said last night you were a good guesser."
"But I didn't say I was good at riddles," drawled Rathburn.
Sautee leaned back. For a moment there was a gleam of admiration in
his eyes. Then they narrowed slightly.
"The Dixie Queen has been robbed four times within the last year," he
said soberly. "That represents considerable money. Yesterday I
resorted to a ruse and sent the money up with a truck driver, but
whoever is doing this thing must have got wise somehow, for the truck
driver was held up, as you know, and the money taken."
"Why not put an armed guard on that truck?" asked Rathburn with a
yawn.
"I had full confidence in that ruse, and I knew the man who drove the
truck could be trusted. Besides, he didn't know what was inside the
package."
"How much did they get?" asked Rathburn sharply.
"Twenty-two thousand eight hundred and seventy dollars in cash."
Rathburn stared at the mine manager and whistled softly. "What's the
sense in sending it up there at all?" he asked suddenly. "Why not pay
off down here in town?"
Sautee sighed with an air of resignation. "That's been argued several
times," he complained. "The men demand their pay in cash. They want it
at the mine, for more than half of them have refused to come down here
for it. It is twenty-nine miles up there to the mine, and it would
take all the trucks we've got and two days to bring them down here and
take them back. Besides, if we got them down here it would be a week
before we could get half of them back up there and at work again."
"But why won't they take checks?" Rathburn demanded.
"It would be the same proposition," Sautee explained. "There is a
little village up there--pool room, soft-drink parlor, lunch room,
store, and all that--and the men, or a large number of them, would
want their checks cashed to make purchases and for spending money, and
the cash would have to be transported so the business places could
cash the checks. Then, there's another reason. All the mines over on
this side of the mountains, clear down into the desert, have always
paid in cash. This is an old district, and the matter of getting paid
in cash has become a tradition. That's what the company is up against.
We can refuse to do it, but all the other mines do it, and the Dixie
Queen would soon have the reputation of being the only mine in the
district that didn't pay in cash. The tradition is handed down from
the old days when men were paid in gold. There was a time when a miner
wouldn't take paper money in this country!"
The waiter entered with the breakfast dishes and they began to eat.
"Your mine owned by a stock company?" Rathburn inquired.
"Certainly," replied Sautee. "All the mines here are. What mine
isn't?"
Rathburn ignored the question. "Stockholders live aroun' here?" he
asked, between mouthfuls.
"Oh--no, that is, not many," replied Sautee with a quick glance at his
questioner. "This district is pretty well worked out. Most of our
stockholders live in the Middle West and the East." He winked at
Rathburn.
"Any other mines been robbed?" Rathburn persisted.
"No, that's the funny part of it. Still--no, it _isn't_ funny. We're
working on the largest scale, and our pay-roll is, naturally, the
largest. It furnishes the biggest incentive. In addition, the Dixie
Queen is the farthest out from town, and there are many excellent
spots for a holdup between town and the mine. Oh, don't look
skeptical. I've tried trusted messengers by roundabout trails, and
guards and all that. They even held up a convoy on one occasion. I've
set traps. I've done everything. But now I've a new idea, and I
believe it'll work."
He finished his breakfast and stared steadily at Rathburn who didn't
look up, but leisurely drank a second cup of coffee. Sautee noted the
slim, tapered right hand of the man across the table from him, the
clear, gray eyes, the unmistakable poise of a man who is absolutely
and utterly confident and sure of himself. The mine manager's eyes
glowed eagerly.
"Yes?" asked Rathburn calmly.
"I'm going to hire, or, rather, I'm going to _try_ to hire a man I
believe is just as tough, just as clever, just as quick with his gun
as the men who've been robbing the Dixie Queen. I'm going to hire him
to carry the money to the mine!"
"So _that's_ why you got me out of jail," said Rathburn, drawing the
inevitable tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket.
"Yes!" whispered Sautee eagerly. "I want you for the job!"
"You ain't forgetting that I was suspected of that last job, are you?
That's why I went to jail, I reckon."
"You didn't have to go to jail unless you wanted to. You didn't have
to stop in this town and invite arrest. Mannix let you go up there
yesterday because he felt sure he could get you when he wanted you
again, and he figured you'd make some break that would give him a clew
to your pals, if you had any. You went to jail because you knew he
didn't have anything on you."
Sautee grinned in triumph.
"How do you know I won't beat it with the money?" asked Rathburn.
"I don't," said Sautee quickly. "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."
"Who's Carlisle?" Rathburn asked dryly.
Sautee frowned. "He's a--well, I guess you'd call him a sort of
adventurer. I knew him down in Arizona. He follows the camps when
they're good, and this one happens to be good right now, for we're
improving the property. That's how he happened to come up here about a
year ago. Then, when the first robbery occurred, I engaged him as a
sort of special agent. He didn't make any progress, so I let him go.
Since then he's been out and in, gambling, prospecting, anything--he's
a fast man with his gun, and he has some claims here which he is
developing on a small scale and trying to sell."
Rathburn nodded but made no comment.
"Will you take the job?" Sautee asked anxiously.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to carry a sum of money to the mine. I'm not going to tell
you how much, but it will be considerable. The money which was stolen
yesterday was for the pay-off to-day. I've got to get the cash for the
men up there quick. They all know about the holdup, so there's no
grumbling--yet. But there will be if they don't have their money
pretty quick. We want to pay off to-morrow. I could go with a guard,
but to tell you the truth, Rathburn, it's got to a point where I can't
trust a soul."
"Why not Mannix?" asked Rathburn sharply.
Sautee shook his head; his beady, black eyes glowed, and he stroked
his chin.
"There's another sorrowful point," he explained. "I tell you we're up
against it here, Rathburn. The Dixie Queen people and most of the
other mines are fighting the present county administration as a matter
of policy. They want certain changes, and--well, keep this to
yourself--privileges. Mannix has been instructed by the sheriff of
this county that he is not here to act as a guard for the Dixie
Queen. See?"
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.