A SECOND CAPTURE
Rathburn rode straight up the trail which led from the powder house
toward the pass over the big mountain. His eyes were gleaming with
satisfaction, but several times they clouded with doubt, and he felt
the bank notes in his coat pocket. Each time, however, he would shake
his head and push on up the trail with renewed energy.
Looking backward and downward, he could see the posses gathering in
the street of the mine village. He sensed the excitement which had
followed the sudden disappearance of Sautee and smiled grimly. He saw
that the automobile from the hogback had reached the village. Scores
of men were clustered about it. He knew Mannix was taking personal
charge of the man hunt; but there was a chance to get away!
He looked wistfully eastward. Somewhere off there, beyond the rolling
foothills, was the desert. He thrilled. It had been there he had made
his first mistake. Goaded by the loss of his small cattle ranch he had
taken revenge on the man who had foreclosed on him and others in a
similar predicament. He had held up the bank and restored a small
measure of the losses. Even then the profit of the unscrupulous money
lender had been enormous.
But the law had marked Rathburn. The gunmen who were jealous of his
reputation as an expert at the draw had forced him to fall back upon
that draw to protect his life. Thus he had been driven to obtain a
living in the best way he could, and something in the dangerous,
uncertain life of the outlaw had appealed to his wild blood.
Sautee had said the money in his pocket was a good haul. Why not? He
looked again to eastward. Over the big mountain--into the timber--a
circling back--a straight cut east----
He knew he could do it. He had evaded posses before--posses composed
of trained men who were accustomed to take the man trail. It would
actually be rare sport to play with the crowd below. His left hand
dropped idly into his coat pocket, and he started as he fingered what
was there. Then his brow became furrowed, and he scowled.
"Maybe I ain't such a good guesser after all," he muttered. "Maybe I'm
just what I told Sautee--a fool."
He caught sight of a man and a boy above him. Another instant and they
were lost to view.
Rathburn suddenly put the spurs to his horse, and the dun surged up
the steep trail. As he rode, Rathburn took his rawhide lariat from its
place on the saddle. At a point above where the trail twisted about a
huge outcropping of rock he turned off, dismounted, and crept to the
top of the rocks. Quickly he surveyed the trail above. Then he slipped
back down to his horse, got in the saddle, and took up a position just
at the lower end of the outcropping, some little distance back from
the trail and above it. He held the lariat ready in his hands.
He sat his horse quietly--listening. The wind had died with the dawn,
and there was no sound in the hills. The sun was mounting in the sky
to eastward. Rathburn looked out over the timbered slopes below with
wistful eyes. Suddenly his gaze became alert. The sound of horses upon
the rocky trail above the outcropping came to his ears.
Gradually the sound became more and more distinct. He could hear the
hoofs of the horses striking against the rock of the trail. He shook
out the noose of his rope, and it sang as it whirled in the air.
The head of a horse had hardly pushed past the rock when Rathburn's
noose went swirling downward and dropped true over its target. The man
in the saddle loosed a string of curses as he felt the rawhide lariat
tighten about his arms and chest. His horse shied, and he was dragged
from the saddle, landing on his feet, but falling instantly.
The second horse reared back, and Rathburn's gun covered the boy in
the saddle. Rathburn, keeping tight hold on the rope hand over hand,
and retaining his gun in his right hand at the same time, ran down the
short pitch. The boy's horse became still, and while the youth stared
Rathburn trussed up the first rider and then stood off to look at
him.
"Just takin' a mornin' ride, Carlisle?" he asked cheerfully. "Or did
you forget something? Don't make any false moves, kid. I ain't in a
playful mood."
The boy continued to stare, but Carlisle's face was black with rage,
and curses flowed from his lips.
"That won't get you anything," Rathburn said coolly. "You might better
be doin' some tall thinking instead of cussing. You ain't got the
cards stacked for this deal, Carlisle."
"What's your game?" Carlisle managed to get out.
"It's a deep one," Rathburn replied dryly. "An' it's too complicated
to tell you now. I'm goin' to give you a chance to do the thinking I
mentioned a while back. I ain't takin' your gun or your horse. The
only thing I'm takin' is a chance, an' I ain't takin' it on _your_
account."
For an instant Rathburn's eyes burned with fury. Then he dragged
Carlisle into the shelter of the rocks, to the side of the trail, and
tied his horse near by. Mounting, he motioned to the boy to ride down
the trail ahead of him. He looked at the big hat and the overalls the
boy wore. The youth looked wildly about and then drove the spurs into
his mount and dashed down the trail with Rathburn close behind,
calling to him to take it easy.
Just as they reached a spot directly above the powder house the boy
reined in his horse. Rathburn saw he was looking down at the turbulent
scene in the street of the little village below the mine. Then the boy
swayed in the saddle, and Rathburn had just time to fling himself to
the ground and catch the senseless form in his arms as it toppled.
He put his burden down on the grass beside the trail and led his horse
into the timber and tied him. Next he picked up the boy and made his
way down to the powder house. The shouts of many men came to him from
far below. He succeeded in getting out the keys and unlocking the
padlock which secured the door of the powder house. Then he opened the
door, covered the frightened mine manager with his gun, and carried
his burden in with one arm.
"One of the accomplices," he said briefly to Sautee, as he put the lad
down and loosened the shirt at the throat. "He'll come around in a
minute."
Sautee's eyes were popping from his head. He leaned back upon the
cases of dynamite and passed a clammy hand over his brow.
"I've got Carlisle, too," said Rathburn. "Takin' it all around from
under it ain't a bad morning's haul."
Sautee now stared at him with a new look in his eyes--a look in which
doubt struggled with terror.
"I don't believe you _are_ The Coyote!" he blurted out.
"Who do you reckon I might be, if I ain't?" Rathburn asked quietly.
"You might be some kind of a deputy or something."
Rathburn laughed harshly. "It just happens I'm the man some folks call
The Coyote," he said. "I don't like the name, but it was wished on me,
an' I can't seem to shake it off. If I wasn't the man you think I am
you wouldn't be in such a tight fix, Sautee."
Rathburn's words conveyed a subtle menace which was not lost on the
mine manager. Sautee cringed and rubbed his hands in his nervous
tension.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Listen!" exclaimed Rathburn.
From below came the echoes of shouts and other sounds which conveyed
the intelligence that a large body of men was on the move up to the
mine and the mountain slope above.
"They're after me," said Rathburn bitterly. "They think I stole the
pay-rolls. They can't get me, Sautee--not alive. An' if they get me
the other way I'm goin' to see to it somehow that I don't get blamed
for these jobs up here. Now, do you begin to see daylight?"
Sautee wet his dry lips. The figure on the floor stirred. The shouts
from below sounded more distinct.
Rathburn's gun leaped into his hand. "You better start hoping the
shootin' don't begin till we understand each other, Sautee," he said
grimly. "We've come to the show-down!"