“That’s George Sautee, manager of the Dixie Queen,” said the deputy with a shrug.
CHAPTER XVII
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.