“Thanks,” replied Lamy dryly. “I suppose I’m free to go now, unless you figure you’d be safer by killin’ me off.”
Anger, swift and uncontrollable, leaped into Rathburn’s eyes. Then he laughed, softly and mirthlessly. “If I’d been minded to do for you, or had any such idea in my head, I’d have given it to you long before this,” he said. “It’s lucky for you, Lamy, that I’m pretty much the breed you thought I was.”
“Don’t pose!” retorted Lamy hotly. “You intended to get that money and make me the goat if you could, from the start. If you’d had any 61 idea of turnin’ me over to Brown you’d have done that little thing, too, long before this.”
“Maybe so,” Rathburn mused, staring at the other thoughtfully in the dim light of the stars. “Maybe I will yet. You’re not out of this––an’ neither am I. Those shadows down to the left are getting plainer. What’s that long dark streak over there on the right?”
“Those are trees,” answered Lamy sneeringly.
“Let’s make for ’em,” ordered Rathburn. “Don’t forget you’re still under orders, Lamy. An’ don’t overlook the fact that I’m more or less in earnest about things in general,” he added significantly.
They rode at a tangent for the dark shadow of the trees. At the edge of the timber ensued another long wait, with Rathburn uncommunicative, moodily pacing restlessly back and forth. The horses had another excellent opportunity to rest and the fagged animals took advantage of it.
Once or twice Rathburn thought he glimpsed a light far down the valley, but he couldn’t be sure. Neither could he be sure he saw the moving shadows on the opposite side of the wide valley again.
The night wore into early morning and the moon added its cold radiance to the faint glow of the myriads of stars. Rathburn sensed the nearness of enemies. Several times he stopped before Lamy, who sat upon his saddle blanket with his back against a tree trunk and dozed. Rathburn had to fight off continual drowsiness.
For long hours he walked along the edge of the pines. He dared not trust himself to sleep. He dared not trust Lamy to stand guard while he obtained some rest, and he knew that when the sun came up and the day began, he would be thoroughly awake again; for more than once he had 62 gone two nights without sleep. Also, he assumed that the hunt would be less spirited during the night. Members of the posse would themselves be drowsy, but they could spell each other and in that way maintain their vigil and secure a few hours of rest.