“Now you shet up!” shrilled Price. “I reckon you’ve lost all the brains you ever did have? Do you think Laura would keep your gun, knowin’ there might be trouble, an’ you wouldn’t have any way to protect yourself? Don’t you suppose she knows you’re as fast as Eagen? She’s no fool, if you are. But, if you’ve got to stay the fool, you better be lightin’ out with your winnings. An’ you’re not takin’ the bank’s money, either.”
“What do you mean by that?” scowled Rathburn, who had been thoughtful while his friend was speaking.
“I had money in that bank, Rathburn, an’ so did Mallory, an’ there’s a lot more of us–––”
“I’ll give you back your money,” Rathburn growled. “Anyway, they’re protected by insurance, an’ the insurance people can hunt me till doomsday––I guess.” He was cooling off rapidly.
“Maybe they are,” said Price, “an’ maybe they ain’t. But it ain’t goin’ to help you none the way you’re goin’ to feel about it later, no matter who loses it.”
Rathburn was pacing the room, frowning. Twice he started to speak, but the words failed to come. Then he put a question. “Who is this man Doane? He knew me, for I met him when I was comin’ out of the bank, an’ he called me by name.”
“Doane is cashier of the bank down at Hope. He was likely just comin’ to work when you met him.”
Rathburn stared with an incredulous expression. “You’re sure?” But even as he put the question, Rathburn placed his man.
“I’m dead certain on it,” declared Price.