Sautee’s eyes were bulging. “Give me that,” he gulped out.
“Why––don’t you want me to take it to the mine?” asked Rathburn in surprise.
“Hand that over,” ordered Sautee, reaching for the package.
Rathburn drew away. “All right, Mr. Sautee,” he said in a complaining voice. “If you don’t want me to go through with the job you can back down, I guess. We’ll just make sure the money’s here, though.”
Sautee leaped toward him.
“Give me that package!” he cried angrily. “Do you hear me?”
Rathburn warded him off, keeping the package at arm’s length away.
“Just hold your horses,” he said coldly. “I reckon I know what I’m doing. You don’t trust me now, an’ I ain’t goin’ to take any chances with you. I’m goin’ to open this an’ show you that 141 the money’s there, that’s all; I’m goin’ to show you that I’m giving you back what you gave me all fair an’ square.”
Sautee’s face was ashen. His voice trembled as he spoke again: “Hand it over and get out of here. I’ve had enough trouble with you. I’ll take your word for it.”
But Rathburn was undoing the paper wrappings.