That evening, as he was returning to the hotel, he met Mannix. The deputy looked at him with 131 a scowl in which there was a mixture of curiosity. Rathburn suddenly remembered what Sautee had said about his company being on the outs with the county administration. If such was the case, Rathburn reflected, how did it come that Sautee had been able to effect his release so easily?
He stopped as he drew alongside of the deputy. “This man Sautee,” he drawled, looking Mannix square in the eye; “he must have a good drag with the county seat, eh?”
The deputy’s scowl deepened. “He didn’t get you out by word of mouth alone,” he said sharply. “I haven’t got anything on you, Rathburn––yet.”
Rathburn smiled. “I reckon you’re a sheriff after my own heart,” he said enigmatically, and moved on.
Mannix looked back after him for a moment, then continued on his way.
Rathburn had dinner that night at the hotel, and it was during the course of a number of pleasantries with the waitress, who thought he was looking for work, that he ascertained that Sautee had a little two-room building at the lower end of the street, the front half of which served as an office and the rear half as living quarters.
At nine o’clock he went to his room. He lighted the oil lamp, pulled down the window shade, sat down in a chair to one side of the door to wait. An hour passed with no sound save occasional footfalls in the hall and the drone of the wind in the trees outside.
Another hour had nearly been consumed in waiting when Rathburn heard some one coming up the stairs. The footfalls were soft, catlike. He could hardly hear them, and it was this fact which made him instantly alert. The footfalls now sounded in the hallway. They were nearer his room. He rose; 132 stepped close to the side of the door. Then came a soft knock.
Rathburn suddenly opened the door, and Sautee started back, blinking his eyes. The mines manager peered about the room, then entered swiftly.
“You rather startled me,” he accused with a forced smile.