Sautee looked just an instant longer into the eyes of the man towering over him. Then he rose, shaking, dry-lipped, and knelt down by the head of the bed. He lifted a piece of the carpet, opened a small trapdoor, reached inside, and brought out a bundle of bank notes. Rathburn took the money from him.
Sautee still was kneeling as he heard Rathburn 144 walk lightly to the front door and insert the key in the lock. He tried to cry out, but the effort resulted only in a croak in his throat. He heard the door close softly.
“The Coyote!” he mumbled, passing a hand across his forehead.
The echoes of galloping hoofs came to him as he scrambled to his feet and staggered toward the door.
CHAPTER XX
APPEAL TO THE LAW
For some moments Sautee stood in the darkened doorway staring up the moonlit street. The echoes of Rathburn’s flight had died away. The town was still. Sautee did not cry out, although he had recovered a considerable measure of his composure. He listened intently and finally grunted with satisfaction.
“Up the road,” he muttered. “That means he is making for the pass over the mountains.”