“An’ you can tell ’em, if you ever have a chance to talk again, that I earned my reputation square! I ain’t involved nobody else, an’ I ain’t stole from any poor people, an’ I never threw my gun down on a man who didn’t start for his first.”
The deadly earnestness and the note of regret in Rathburn’s tone caused Sautee to forget his uneasiness temporarily and stare at the man in wonder. Rathburn’s eyes were narrowed, his gaze was steel blue, and his face was drawn into hard, grim lines as he looked out upon the far-flung, glorious vista below them, broken here and there by the movement of mounted men.
“Maybe I––I–––” Sautee faltered in his speech. His words seemed impotent in the face of Rathburn’s deadly seriousness.
Rathburn turned abruptly to the powder house door.
“Wait!” cried Sautee.
The mines manager dug frantically into his pockets and drew out a bunch of keys.
“There are some locks on this property to which there are only two keys,” he explained nervously. 158 “This is one of them, and I carry the second key. Here!”
He held out the key ring with one key extended.
Rathburn thrust his gun back into its holster and took the keys. In a moment he had unlocked the padlock and swung open the iron door, exposing case after case of high explosive within the stone structure.
Sautee was staring at him in dire apprehension.