The Coyote Part 12

Then the sheriff spoke again in an exultant tone. "I figured it was the best hidin' place you could find, Coyote. You're right; I was sort of bluffing, but I might have changed my mind an' gone on through with it. We've got you dead to rights, Coyote; you haven't got a chance.

There's seven of us now an' every man is ready to open up if you come out of there a-shooting."

Rathburn slipped his gun back into his holster. He raised the trapdoor slowly until it tipped back on the floor leaving the opening into the cellar clear.

"Two of 'em!" he heard some one exclaim.

He looked up to accustom his eyes to the light and saw a dozen guns covering him.

"Gentlemen, the landscape fairly bristles with artillery," he said amiably. "Who's the sheriff? And--there's Jud Brown. Who let you loose, Jud?"

"I'm Sheriff Neal," interposed that individual, a slight, dark man with a bristly mustache. "Come out of there--hands free."

"For the time being, eh, sheriff? I expect you figure on fixing those hands so they won't be free, eh? Well, all I've got to say is that I hope you won't spend the money foolishly, sheriff."

Rathburn leaped lightly out of the cellar.

"Keep that other man down there covered, too," snapped out Neal. "It's principle more than reward money that invites me, Coyote. Hand over your gun belt an' be careful how you unbuckle it."

"Sheriff, it would be against my code of ethics to hand over my gun.

It can't be done, sheriff; you'll have to come and get it."

Neal hesitated, notwithstanding the fact that he had Rathburn covered and that several other guns were covering him. Then he stepped forward, never taking his eyes from Rathburn's, and secured the other's weapon.

"That's better, sheriff," said Rathburn with a queer smile. "You can see how I have my pride an' little superst.i.tions. No man has ever took a gun from me but what I've got it back! Thanks, sheriff."

Lamy had come out of the cellar. Several of the men seemed to recognize him, but kept their silence with dubious looks in their eyes.

"My guide, sheriff," said Rathburn, pointing gayly at Lamy. "He was very kind. He showed me around the country--me not being very well acquainted around here. I had to take his gun away from him an' sort of encourage him along with my own, but he did very nicely."

"Just what I thought, Neal," said Brown. "This fellow took after him an' he captured him and made him lead him. Isn't that so?" he asked of Lamy.

"Just a minute, Jud," Rathburn interrupted with a frown. "I can't let the importance of this momentous occasion be transferred to a subordinate. You must ask your questions of me, as I am the central figure in this affair."

The cry of a girl startled them. She came running from the kitchen where she had fled when the sheriff announced his intention to shoot through the floor.

"Ed!" she cried, running to Lamy and throwing her arms about him.

"Oh--Ed!"

"Who is he, ma'am?" asked the sheriff. "Your husband?"

"He's my brother--Ed Lamy."

"I can recommend him if you need a guide who knows the country, sheriff," said Rathburn genially. "I guess he had an idea of making trouble for me at first, but I had the drop on him an' he soon saw reason. I had to knock him down last night when he got fresh, but he did very well. Of course I had an advantage on my side." He nodded toward his gun which the official still held in his hand.

"Did he make you guide him?" Neal asked Lamy, noting his empty holster.

Rathburn turned so that he could look at his former captive.

Lamy nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I didn't know what minute I was goin'

to get shot in the back."

Rathburn's eyes glowed with an amused light. "I didn't have any idea of shootin' him, sheriff; he was too valuable as my escort on the tour. I wonder if the lady could spare me a cup of coffee an' a biscuit?"

He glimpsed the boy in the kitchen doorway behind the sheriff. "h.e.l.lo, sonny," he called cheerfully. "Did you catch those freckles from your brother?"

The boy gazed at him abashed. There were actually tears in the youngster's eyes. Ed Lamy and his sister moved into the kitchen and took the boy with them. The girl had nodded to the sheriff.

"She'll get you something to eat," said Neal. "What have you got on you?" He stepped to Rathburn's side.

"Ah--the frisk. I see you are a regulation officer, sheriff."

Rathburn's tone fairly radiated politeness and good cheer. "The silver was rather heavy. It ain't my usual style to pack much silver, sheriff. There's more of the bills in my hip pockets. Don't suppose there's more'n a thousand in the whole bundle."

The sheriff put the bills and silver on the table. He investigated all of Rathburn's pockets, returned him his tobacco, papers, and handkerchief, but kept a box of matches. Then he felt his prisoner's clothing to make sure that he had no weapons concealed; he also felt his boot tops.

He looked at Rathburn with a gloating expression when he had finished; there was also a glint of admiration in the gaze he directed at him.

"You size right up to the descriptions of you, Coyote," he reflected in a pleasant voice. "Too bad you couldn't have been in a better business. I'm glad I caught you, but I ain't any too--too--well, I might say any too proud of it. That may be pleasant for you to hear.

But I ain't discounting your well-known ability, an' I want to warn you that I or any of my men will shoot you in your tracks if you start anything that looks suspiciouslike."

Rathburn yawned. "Sheriff, your courtesy is very greatly appreciated.

I only hope we will arrive in jail or somewhere soon where I can get some sleep. I'm all in."

CHAPTER XI

FREEDOM BEHIND BARS

In the early afternoon the little cavalcade rode into Dry Lake.

Rathburn was nodding in his saddle, nearly asleep.

"We'll keep him here to-night till I can get the facts straight," he heard Sheriff Neal say to Brown.

They dismounted at a small square stone building with bars on the windows. Then Rathburn was proudly led between a line of curious spectators into jail.

Three rooms comprised Dry Lake's jail. The front of the building, for a depth of a third of the distance from the front to the rear, was divided into two of these rooms; one, the larger, being the main office, and the other, much smaller, being the constable's private office. The balance of the building was one large room, divided into two old-fashioned cages with iron and steel bars. The doors to these cages were on either side of the door into the front office and there was an aisle between the cages and the wall separating them from the offices.

Rathburn was taken immediately to the cage on the left of the office door. Sheriff Neal hesitated as he stood in the cell with him, thought for a minute, then removed the handcuffs.

"That's right fine of you, sheriff," said Rathburn sleepily, but cheerfully, nevertheless.

"Oh, you'll be watched well enough," said Neal as he closed the barred door behind him and locked Rathburn in. "You'll find somebody around if you try to tear the place down."

"That wasn't just what I was getting at, sheriff," said the prisoner with a glitter in his eyes. "I meant it was right fine of you to give me freedom behind the bars."

Rathburn's taunting laugh rang in the official's ears as the latter pushed the men with him into the outer office. Rathburn listened, yawning, to the sheriff giving instructions that the prisoner be watched constantly.