This is what Rathburn read:
REWARD
Two thousand dollars will be paid for the capture of the bandits who are responsible for the robberies of Dixie Mine messengers in the last few months.
Dixie Milling & Mining Co.,
George Sautee, Manager.
Rathburn now knew exactly what Carlisle had meant when he had referred to the Dixie pay-roll taking wings. He had, however, suspected it. The holdup of the truck driver also was explained. Rathburn smiled. It was a peculiar ruse for the mines manager to resort to. Could not the pay-roll be sent to the mines under armed guard? Rathburn’s eyes were dreamy when he looked at the deputy.
“All right, in you go,” said Mannix, as the jailer unlocked the heavy, barred door from the inside.
He led Rathburn to one of the single cells, of which there were six on one side of the jail room proper.
“Maybe you’ll be ready to talk in the morning,” he said, as he locked his prisoner in.
“Morning might be too late,” Rathburn observed, taking tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket.
“What do you mean by that?” Mannix asked sharply.
“I might change my mind.”
“About talking, eh? Well, we’ll find a way to make you change it back again.”