“Let him play with it,” Eagen said harshly.
Mallory withdrew from the window, as Eagen reached for his left stirrup and swung into the saddle.
“I see you ain’t takin’ it,” Rathburn called to him with a jeering laugh.
“An’ I ain’t forgettin’ it?” Eagen shouted, as he drove in his spurs.
His three companions galloped after him, and Rathburn caught sight of a dark-skinned face, a pair of beady, black eyes, and the long, drooping mustaches of one of the men.
“Gomez!” he exclaimed to himself. “Eagen’s takin’ up with the Mexicans.”
Mallory appeared in the kitchen door, holding a lamp above his head. “What’d he want?” he demanded of Rathburn.
“More’n he got,” answered Rathburn shortly. Then he saw Laura Mallory standing behind her father.
“I mean to say he made a little proposition that I had to turn down,” he amended, with a direct glance at the girl. “An’ now I’ve got to do some more ridin’.”
“You leavin’ to-night?” asked Mallory in surprise. “We can put you up here, Rathburn, an’ I’ll keep an eye out for visitors.”