“For the time being, eh, sheriff? I expect you figure on fixing those hands so they won’t be free, eh? Well, all I’ve got to say is that I hope you won’t spend the money foolishly, sheriff.”
Rathburn leaped lightly out of the cellar.
“Keep that other man down there covered, too,” snapped out Neal. “It’s principle more than reward money that invites me, Coyote. Hand over your gun belt an’ be careful how you unbuckle it.”
“Sheriff, it would be against my code of ethics to hand over my gun. It can’t be done, sheriff; you’ll have to come and get it.”
Neal hesitated, notwithstanding the fact that he had Rathburn covered and that several other guns were covering him. Then he stepped forward, never taking his eyes from Rathburn’s, and secured the other’s weapon.
“That’s better, sheriff,” said Rathburn with a queer smile. “You can see how I have my pride an’ little superstitions. No man has ever took a gun from me but what I’ve got it back! Thanks, sheriff.”
Lamy had come out of the cellar. Several of the men seemed to recognize him, but kept their silence with dubious looks in their eyes.
“My guide, sheriff,” said Rathburn, pointing gayly at Lamy. “He was very kind. He showed me around the country––me not being very well acquainted around here. I had to take his gun away 74 from him an’ sort of encourage him along with my own, but he did very nicely.”
“Just what I thought, Neal,” said Brown. “This fellow took after him an’ he captured him and made him lead him. Isn’t that so?” he asked of Lamy.
“Just a minute, Jud,” Rathburn interrupted with a frown. “I can’t let the importance of this momentous occasion be transferred to a subordinate. You must ask your questions of me, as I am the central figure in this affair.”