“That’s good enough for me,” said Rathburn cheerfully. “All I need is a name to call you by. Now, Percy, if you’re acquainted with this country in here an’ can steer the way to where the posse’ll be liable to overlook us you better be leading on. I see you’ve ditched your other gun somewhere––you had two.”
“So you want me to take you where you’ll be safe so you can rob me, maybe shoot me down, an’ then make your get-away,” the other accused.
Rathburn looked him straight in the eyes. “If you think I’m the kind of a man who’d shoot another down in cold blood when he was helpless you don’t know much about human beings,” he said slowly. “I have no intention of murdering you or harming you a-tall, if you’re halfway careful. If you feel that it’s against your principles to lead this expedition to temporary safety, we can turn back toward Dry Lake. We’re going to do one thing or the other within one minute!”
“Oh, come on,” muttered the captive. He led the way through the timber to its western edge, then turned north in the shelter of the trees traversing a long, high, rocky ridge.
“Our horses won’t leave any tracks here,” he called back. “Or maybe you don’t care whether we leave any tracks or not,” he added sarcastically.
Rathburn spurred his horse alongside of him. “It doesn’t make a bit of difference to me,” he said. “You’re the one that’s got to be scared of that posse, Percy, not me. If it wasn’t for one thing I’d take you right down there to meet ’em!”
The other looked at him both in anger and perplexity. “Suppose you’d object to tellin’ what that one thing is,” he said savagely.
“Well, it may be that I feel sorry for you,” said Rathburn as if to himself. “An’ it may be that I want credit for bringing you in without the help of any posse an’ without them knowing it!”