“I’m not sure. I only know I wanted to come back, an’ I came. I hadn’t any fixed plans, an’ I wasn’t expecting the reception I got.” His face clouded. Then he looked straight into the girl’s eyes. “I hit this country this morning,” he said steadily. “The first folks I saw was some men ridin’ in my direction up between the lava hills and the range. Then things began to happen.”
She nodded brightly. “I believe you,” she said simply.
Rathburn smiled. “You aways did that, Laura, an’ I ain’t never been much of a hand at lying.”
“Roger,” she said quickly, “if they all knew you as well as I think I know you–––”
“They wouldn’t believe,” he interrupted. “They 198 call me The Coyote, an’ they’ll have me live up to the name whether I want to or not,” he added bitterly.
“But, Roger, you’re forgetting what I said about the trails and the compass.”
“No, Laura, I’m not, but there’s another force besides the big lodestone that’s affectin’ that compass.”
“Roger, you’re thinking of an enemy!”
He did not answer her. His face appeared grim, almost haggard, in the yellow rays of the lamplight.
“Roger, you once promised me anything I might ask,” she said softly.