“Take it!” snapped out Rathburn. “Take it, or I may change my mind!”
Lamy took the gun wonderingly, balanced it for a moment in his hand, and shoved it into his holster.
Rathburn motioned toward the south and Lamy rode along at his side. They caught another glimpse of the horsemen in the north. As they drew opposite the ranch house, on the west or front side, they saw a woman leave it and walk the short distance to the barn and enter. At that moment both Rathburn and Lamy gave vent to low exclamations. They had caught sight of riders in the south and to the east. They appeared to be surrounded by the posse.
Rathburn looked at Lamy soberly. However, it was Lamy who spoke first. “You said the best place to hide from a posse was in the middle of it,” he said scornfully. “Why not leave the horses in the timber an’ run for the house? Maybe it has a cellar.”
“I reckon that would be as good a move as any,” replied Rathburn, to the other’s surprise. “I’m game if you are.”
Lamy’s eyes flamed with excitement as he turned his mount into the trees. They came to what looked 64 like a bear pit or a prospect hole. It was partly filled with brush.
“We can hide our saddles in there an’ let the horses go,” Lamy suggested. “There’s a few horses runnin’ in through here, an’ they may join ’em.”
“You can do that with yours,” said Rathburn grimly. “You seem to forget that the brand on this dun is pretty well known.”
He coolly tied his horse as Lamy followed his own suggestion, hid his saddle, and turned his mount loose.
They moved back to the edge of the timber and waited until they could see no one in sight about the house or in any direction in the valley. Then they started on a run for the house.