“Who’s Carlisle?” Rathburn asked dryly.
Sautee frowned. “He’s a––well, I guess you’d call him a sort of adventurer. I knew him down in Arizona. He follows the camps when they’re good, and this one happens to be good right now, for we’re improving the property. That’s how he happened to come up here about a year ago. Then, when the first robbery occurred, I engaged him as a sort of special agent. He didn’t make any progress, so I let him go. Since then he’s been out and in, gambling, prospecting, anything––he’s a fast man with his gun, and he has some claims here which he is developing on a small scale and trying to sell.”
Rathburn nodded but made no comment.
“Will you take the job?” Sautee asked anxiously.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to carry a sum of money to the mine. I’m not going to tell you how much, but it will be considerable. The money which was stolen yesterday was for the pay-off to-day. I’ve got to get the cash for the men up there quick. They all know about the holdup, so there’s no grumbling––yet. But there will be if they don’t have their money pretty quick. We want to pay off to-morrow. I could go with a guard, but to tell you the truth, Rathburn, it’s got to a point where I can’t trust a soul.”
“Why not Mannix?” asked Rathburn sharply.
Sautee shook his head; his beady, black eyes glowed, and he stroked his chin.
“There’s another sorrowful point,” he explained. “I tell you we’re up against it here, Rathburn. The Dixie Queen people and most of the other mines are fighting the present county administration as a matter of policy. They want certain changes, and––well, keep this to yourself––privileges. Mannix has been instructed by the sheriff of this county that he 127 is not here to act as a guard for the Dixie Queen. See?”