Read The Coyote Page 30


  CHAPTER XXX

  THE SHERIFF'S PLIGHT

  Riding slowly Rathburn kept well in toward the range and proceededcautiously. This wasn't alone a safety measure, for he wished to favorhis horse. The dun had been hard ridden in the spurt to gain themountains ahead of the posse. He had been rested at Price's cabin, tobe sure, and also at the Mallory ranch; but now Rathburn had a ride offifteen miles to the town of Hope, and he did not know how much ridinghe might have to do next day.

  When a scant three miles from Hope, he halted, loosened the saddlecinch, and rested his horse, while he himself reclined on the groundand smoked innumerable cigarettes. He was in a thoughtful mood,serious and somewhat puzzled. The recollection of Eagen's propositioncaused him to frown frequently. Then a wistful light would glow in hiseyes, and he thought of Laura Mallory. This would be succeeded byanother frown, and then his eyes would narrow, and the smile that menhad come to fear would tremble on his lips.

  He was again in the saddle with the first faint glimmer of theapproaching dawn. He covered the distance into Hope at a swinging lopeand rode in behind a row of neat, yellow-brick buildings which formedthe east side of one block on the short main street.

  Securing his horse behind a building midway of the rear of the block,he entered one of the buildings through a back door. It proved to bea combination pool room and soft-drink bar. No one was in the placeexcept the porter who was cleaning up. Rathburn noted that the manshowed no evidences of knowing him, although this was Rathburn's hometown.

  "Kind of early, ain't you, boss?" grinned the porter. "Maybe you'relookin' for something to start the day with." He winked broadly.

  Rathburn nodded and walked over to the bar.

  "Just get in?" asked the porter, as he put out a bottle of whiteliquor and glanced at the dust on Rathburn's clothes.

  "Just in," replied Rathburn, pouring and tossing off one drink."Where's everybody? Too early for 'em?"

  "Well, it's about an hour too early on the average, unless there'sbeen an all-night game," replied the porter, putting the bottle away,as his customer declined a second drink. "But then there ain't verymany in town right now. Everybody's out after the reward money."

  Rathburn lifted his brows.

  "Say," exclaimed the porter eagerly, "you didn't see any men ridin'looselike, when you was coming in, did you?"

  Rathburn shook his head. "What's all this you're tryin' to chirp intomy ear?" he asked.

  "Well, Bob Long, the sheriff, has got all his deputies out except justthe jailer--there ain't anybody much in jail now, anyway--an' all theother men he could pin a star on, lookin' for a gang that held up thestage from Sunshine yesterday mornin', shot the stage driver dead, an'made off with an express package full of money. There's a big rewardout for the man that's leadin' the gang. He's called The Coyote. Usedto live here. He's a bad one."

  "Sheriff out, too?" Rathburn asked, showing great interest.

  "Sure. Come back in early last night an' got more men. They're tryin'to surround Imagination Range, I guess. That's where this Coyote an'his gang are supposed to be hanging out. The sheriff don't care somuch for the fellers that's with him, I guess, but he sure does wantthis Coyote person. He told everybody to let the gang go if they hadto, but to get the leader."

  Rathburn looked through the front windows with a quizzical smile onhis lips. The sun was shining in the deserted street.

  "How many men has the sheriff got?" he inquired casually.

  "Most two hundred, I guess. They're scattered all over the range, an'a lot of 'em has hit over on the other side. They think The Coyotecrossed the range an' is makin' east."

  "Well, maybe he has, an' maybe he hasn't," Rathburn observed. "Thebest place to hide from a posse is in the middle of it."

  The porter looked at him, then burst into a loud laugh. "I guess yousaid something that time, pardner. In the middle of it, eh?" He wentabout his work, chuckling, while Rathburn walked to a front window andstood looking out.

  A few minutes later he stepped quickly back into a corner, as a smallautomobile raced up the street. He sauntered to the rear door, passedout with a pleasant word to the porter, and when he gained the open,hurried up behind the buildings the length of the block. There heturned to the left and walked rapidly to a large stone building. Hewent around on the east side and entered a door on the ground floor.He found himself in a hallway, and on his left was a door, on theglazed glass of the upper half of which was the gold lettering:"Sheriff's Office."

  After a moment's hesitation he opened the door quickly and went in. Aman standing before an open roll-top desk turned and regarded theearly-morning visitor. He was a small man, but of wiry build. His eyeswere gray, and he wore a small, brown mustache. He had a firm chin,and his face was well tanned. He was holding a paper in his hands, andthe paper remained as steady as a rock in his grasp. His eyes boredstraight and unflinchingly into Rathburn's. He showed no surprise, noconcern. He made no move toward the pair of guns in the holsters ofthe belt which reposed on top of his desk. He spoke first.

  "Have you come to give yourself up, Rathburn?"

  "Hardly that, sheriff," replied Rathburn cheerfully. "I arrived intown this morning after most of the population had moved to the desertand the country aroun' Imagination. I didn't think I was goin' to belucky enough to catch you in till I saw you arrive in that flivver.Are you back for more recruits?"

  The sheriff continued to hold the paper without moving.

  "When you first started to talk, Rathburn, I thought maybe bravado hadbrought you here to make a grand-stand play," he said coolly. "But Isee you're not as foolhardy as some might think. I always gave youcredit for being clever."

  "Thanks, Sheriff Long," said Rathburn dryly. "There's a fewpreliminaries we've got to get over, so----"

  His gun leaped into his hand and instantly covered the official. Hestepped to the end of the desk, reached over and appropriated the beltwith the two guns with his left hand. He tossed the belt and weaponsto a vacant chair.

  "Now, sheriff, I didn't come lookin' for a cell like you hinted; Idrifted in for a bit of information."

  "This is headquarters for that article, especially if it's aboutyourself," said Long, dropping the paper on his desk and sitting downin the chair before it.

  "What all have you got against me?" frowned Rathburn.

  "Nothing much," said the sheriff with biting sarcasm; "just a fewkillings, highway robbery, a bank stick-up, two or three gaming houseslooted, and a stage holdup. Enough to keep you in the Big House forninety-nine years and then hang you."

  Rathburn nodded. "You're sure an ambitious man, sheriff. The killingsnow--there was White and Moran, that you know about, an' a skunk overin California named Carlisle, that you don't know about, I guess. Icouldn't get away from those shootings, sheriff."

  "How about Simpson and Manley?" countered the official scornfully.

  "Not on my list," said Rathburn quickly. "I heard I was given creditfor those affairs, but I wasn't a member of the party where they weresnuffed out."

  "If you can make a jury believe that, you're in the clear," said Long."But how about that stage driver yesterday morning?"

  Rathburn's face darkened. "I got in from the west just in time tostumble on that gang of rats," he flared. "That's how your men came tosee me. The chase happened to come in my direction, that's all."

  "If you can prove that, you're all right again," the sheriff pointedout. "The law will go halfway with you, Rathburn."

  "An' I probably wouldn't be able to prove it," said Rathburn bitterly."Those other things--the bank job an' the gamblin' stick-ups--I wasyounger then, sheriff, an' no one can say that that bank sharp didn'tdo me dirt."

  "If you can show a good, reasonable doubt in those other cases,Rathburn, I know the court would show leniency if the jury found youguilty on the counts you just mentioned," said the sheriff earnestly."I'm minded to believe you, so far as yesterday's work was concerned.I have an idea or two myself, but I haven't been able to get a goodline
on my man. He's too tricky. Of course I'm not going to urge youto do anything against your will. I appreciate your position. You're afugitive, but you have your liberty. Perhaps you can get away clean,though I doubt it. But there's that chance, and you've naturally gotto take it into consideration. And you're not _sure_ of anything ifyou go to trial on the charges there are against you. But it wouldcount like sixty in your favor, Rathburn, if you'd give yourself up."

  Rathburn stared at the official speculatively. His thoughts flashedback along the years to the time when he and Laura Mallory had playedtogether as children. He thought of what she had said the night beforeabout the compass. He shifted uneasily on his feet.

  "Funny thing, sheriff, but I had some such fool notion," heconfessed.

  "It takes nerve, Rathburn, for a man who is wanted to walk in and giveup his gun," said the sheriff quietly.

  "I was thinking of something else," said Rathburn. "An' I've got tothink some more about this that you've sort of put in my head."

  "How much time do you want, Rathburn?" asked Long.

  Rathburn scowled. "Our positions haven't changed," he said curtly."I'm still the man you're lookin' for. I'll have to do my thinkin' onmy own hook, I reckon."

  "Just as you say," Long said gravely. "Go over what I've told youcarefully and don't make any more false moves while you're making upyour mind. You wounded one of my men yesterday."

  "I shot high on purpose," Rathburn pointed out. "I didn't aim to becorralled just then."

  "I know you did," was the sheriff's rejoinder. "I know you could havekilled him. I gave you credit for it."

  "You give me credit for quite a few things, sheriff," said Rathburnwhimsically. "An' now you'll have to give me credit for bein' plumbcautious. It ain't my intention to have my thinking spell disturbed."

  His gun flashed in his hand.

  "I'll have to ask you to go inside an' occupy one of your own cells,sheriff, while I'm wanderin' around an' debatin' the subject."

  "I know you too well, Rathburn," said the sheriff with a grim smile."I'm not armed, and I don't intend to obey you. If you intend to shootyou might just as well start!"

  Rathburn gazed at him coolly for a moment; then he shoved his gun inits holster and leaped.

  Quick as he was, Long was quicker. The sheriff was out of his chair ina twinkling, and he made a flying tackle, grasping Rathburn about thelegs. The two fell to the floor and rolled over and over in theirstruggles.

  Although Rathburn was the larger man, the sheriff seemed made of steelwire. He twisted out of Rathburn's holds, one after another. In onegreat effort he freed himself and leaped to his feet. Rathburn was upinstantly. Long drove a straight right that grazed Rathburn's jaw andstaggered him, but Rathburn blocked the next blow and succeeded inupper-cutting his left to the sheriff's chin.

  They went into another clinch, and the sheriff got the better of theclose fighting. Rathburn's face was bleeding, where it had been cut ona leg of the chair, when they were struggling on the floor. The feelof trickling crimson drove him mad. He threw Long off in an amazingburst of strength and then sent his right to the sheriff's jaw withall the force he could put into it.

  Long dropped to the floor, and Rathburn raised him and carried him toa door leading into the jail proper. As he drew open the door, he drewhis gun and threw it down on the astonished jailer who was dozing inthe little office outside the bars.

  "Open up!" Rathburn commanded.

  The jailer hastened to obey, as he saw the appearance of Rathburn'sface and the dangerous look in his eyes.

  Rathburn compelled him at the point of his gun to lead the way to acell in the rear, unlock it, and go inside. Rathburn pushed Long, whowas regaining his senses, in after him and took the jailer's keys.

  "Tell Long I'm thinkin' over what he told me," he said to the jailer,as he locked them in.

  Then he hurried back to the entrance, locked it, and tossed the keysin through the bars.

  He wet his handkerchief with ice water from a tank in Long's office,wiped his face clean, and left the building.