He caught sight of a man and a boy above him. Another instant and they were lost to view.
Rathburn suddenly put the spurs to his horse, and the dun surged up the steep trail. As he rode, Rathburn took his rawhide lariat from its place on the saddle. At a point above where the trail twisted about a huge outcropping of rock he turned off, dismounted, and crept to the top of the rocks. Quickly he surveyed the trail above. Then he slipped back down to his horse, got in the saddle, and took up a position just at the lower end of the outcropping, some little distance back from the trail and above it. He held the lariat ready in his hands.
He sat his horse quietly––listening. The wind had died with the dawn, and there was no sound in the hills. The sun was mounting in the sky to eastward. Rathburn looked out over the timbered slopes below with wistful eyes. Suddenly his gaze became alert. The sound of horses upon the rocky trail above the outcropping came to his ears.
Gradually the sound became more and more distinct. 162 He could hear the hoofs of the horses striking against the rock of the trail. He shook out the noose of his rope, and it sang as it whirled in the air.
The head of a horse had hardly pushed past the rock when Rathburn’s noose went swirling downward and dropped true over its target. The man in the saddle loosed a string of curses as he felt the rawhide lariat tighten about his arms and chest. His horse shied, and he was dragged from the saddle, landing on his feet, but falling instantly.
The second horse reared back, and Rathburn’s gun covered the boy in the saddle. Rathburn, keeping tight hold on the rope hand over hand, and retaining his gun in his right hand at the same time, ran down the short pitch. The boy’s horse became still, and while the youth stared Rathburn trussed up the first rider and then stood off to look at him.
“Just takin’ a mornin’ ride, Carlisle?” he asked cheerfully. “Or did you forget something? Don’t make any false moves, kid. I ain’t in a playful mood.”
The boy continued to stare, but Carlisle’s face was black with rage, and curses flowed from his lips.
“That won’t get you anything,” Rathburn said coolly. “You might better be doin’ some tall thinking instead of cussing. You ain’t got the cards stacked for this deal, Carlisle.”
“What’s your game?” Carlisle managed to get out.