As Rathburn wended his way to an obscure restaurant on a side streetof the little town which was the county seat of Mesquite County, histhoughts were busy with what he had learned from the sheriff. He knewthe official had been right when he said that it would react inRathburn's favor if he gave himself up. Some of the counts on which hewould be indicted undoubtedly would be quashed; others he mightdisprove. There was a chance that he might get off lightly; in anyevent he would have to spend a number of years in prison.
Rathburn looked up at the bright sky. At the end of the street hecould see the desert, and far beyond, the blue outlines of themountains. It seemed to him that the sunshine was brighter on thisdeadly morning when he struggled with troubled thoughts. Having alwayslived in the open, liberty meant everything to him.
But constantly his thoughts reverted to Laura Mallory. What did sheexpect of him? What would she think if he were to give himself up? Hertalk of the compass--his conscience--bothered him. Why should she saysuch a thing if she didn't feel more than a friendly interest in him?Did she care for him then?
Rathburn laughed mirthlessly, as he entered the eating house. Therewas no doubt of it--he was a fool. He continued to think, as he ate;by the time he had finished he found himself in a bad mental state.He wiped some moisture from his forehead, as he left the restaurant.For a moment he felt panicky. He was wavering!
The tenor of his thoughts caused him to abandon his caution. He turnedthe corner by the State Bank of Hope and walked boldly down thestreet. Few pedestrians were about. None took any special notice ofhim, and none recognized him. He turned in at the resort he hadvisited when he first arrived that morning.
He started, as he entered the place. A deep frown gathered on hisface. Gomez, Eagen's Mexican henchman, was at the bar. At firstRathburn feigned ignorance of the Mexican's presence; but Gomez smiledat him, his white teeth glistening against his swarthy skin.
Rathburn marveled at the audacity of the Mexican, who undoubtedly wasone of those who had held up the stage the day before, in comingboldly into town. Then he recollected that the sheriff had mentionedhe had an idea of who was responsible for that job, but had beenunable to get a line on his man. Eagen and his gang were evidentlywell covered up. If such were the case, Eagen himself might be intown.
It was because he thought he might learn something from Gomez that hefinally acknowledged the fellow's greeting by a nod.
The Mexican left the bar and walked up to him.
"We are not afraid to come in town, Mr. Coyote," he murmured.
"Drop that name," said Rathburn sharply in an undertone. "Is Eagenhere?"
"He is here," replied Gomez with another display of his white teeth."You want to see him? He is up talking with Mr. Doane."
Doane! Rathburn remembered the name instantly as being the same whichhad been spoken by Laura Mallory the night before. He remembered, too,the man who had been there and who had driven away to town in thelittle car. He surmised that this man had been Doane; and it had beenhe who had brought the information of Rathburn's arrival and theposse's pursuit to the girl.
"You want to see him?" asked Gomez craftily.
Rathburn had a consuming aversion for the wily Mexican. He hated theshifty look in his eyes and his oily tongue.
"Not yet," he answered shortly.
"He will be here maybe," said Gomez eagerly. "It is you change yourmind?"
Rathburn scowled. The Mexican then knew all about the propositionEagen had made to him the night before. Perhaps he could get moreinformation from him than he had suspected.
"What job is it Eagen is planning?" he asked in a low voice.
There were several men at the bar now, and both Rathburn and theMexican were keeping an eye upon them.
"Oh, that he will have to tell you himself when you are ready," Gomezreplied.
Rathburn snorted in keen disgust. But Gomez sidled up to him.
"You go to the Mallory rancho last night," he whispered. "You are notthe only one there last night." His smile flashed again, as Rathburnlooked at him quickly.
"There was another there before," he continued; "Mr. Doane. He goesthere, too. You have been away a long time, and Mr. Doane take theadvantage."
Rathburn's eyes were narrowing, and the Mexican evidently took hisface for an encouraging sign.
"Mr. Doane--he is not lucky at cards," continued Gomez. "He like toplay, and he play lots; but not too well. Maybe he have more luck inlove--while you are away."
"What do you mean?" asked Rathburn through his teeth.
"Oh, you do not know?" The Mexican raised his black brows. "While youare away, Mr. Doane make hay while the sun shine bright. He was theremuch. He was there last night before you. He tries hard to steal yoursenorita before you come, and he will try to keep her now." He winkedslyly.
Rathburn suddenly grasped him by the throat. "What are you tryin' tosay?" he asked sternly, shaking the Mexican like a rat.
Gomez broke away, his black eyes darting fire. "You are a fool!" heexclaimed. "You get nothing. Even your woman, she is stole right underyour eyes. Doane, he goes there, and he gets her. She fall for himfast. Then she talks to you with sugar in her mouth, and you believe.Bah! You think the Senorita Mallory----"
Rathburn's open palm crashed against the Mexican's mouth.
"Don't speak her name, you greaser!"
Gomez staggered back under the force of the slap. His eyes were pinpoints of fire. He raised his right hand to his mouth and then to thebrim of his sombrero. His breath came in hissing gasps, as the hatredblazed in his glittering eyes.
Rathburn's face was white under its heavy coating of tan. He saw thefew men at the bar turn and look in their direction, and he realizedinstinctively that these men were gamblers and shady characters whowere probably friends of Eagen and his gang.
"I give you my regards," cried Gomez in a frenzy of rage. "You--gringo!"
His right hand tipped his sombrero in a lightning move, and there wasa flash in the sunlight filtering through the back windows, asRathburn's gun barked at his hip.
Gomez crumpled backward to the floor, as the knife dropped from hisgrasp at the beginning of the throw.
Rathburn, still holding his smoking gun ready, walked rapidly past themen at the bar and gained the open through the door at the rear.