The Coyote Part 39

It was because he thought he might learn something from Gomez that he finally acknowledged the fellow's greeting by a nod.

The Mexican left the bar and walked up to him.

"We are not afraid to come in town, Mr. Coyote," he murmured.

"Drop that name," said Rathburn sharply in an undertone. "Is Eagen here?"

"He is here," replied Gomez with another display of his white teeth.

"You want to see him? He is up talking with Mr. Doane."

Doane! Rathburn remembered the name instantly as being the same which had been spoken by Laura Mallory the night before. He remembered, too, the man who had been there and who had driven away to town in the little car. He surmised that this man had been Doane; and it had been he who had brought the information of Rathburn's arrival and the posse's pursuit to the girl.

"You want to see him?" asked Gomez craftily.

Rathburn had a consuming aversion for the wily Mexican. He hated the s.h.i.+fty look in his eyes and his oily tongue.

"Not yet," he answered shortly.

"He will be here maybe," said Gomez eagerly. "It is you change your mind?"

Rathburn scowled. The Mexican then knew all about the proposition Eagen had made to him the night before. Perhaps he could get more information from him than he had suspected.

"What job is it Eagen is planning?" he asked in a low voice.

There were several men at the bar now, and both Rathburn and the Mexican were keeping an eye upon them.

"Oh, that he will have to tell you himself when you are ready," Gomez replied.

Rathburn snorted in keen disgust. But Gomez sidled up to him.

"You go to the Mallory rancho last night," he whispered. "You are not the only one there last night." His smile flashed again, as Rathburn looked at him quickly.

"There was another there before," he continued; "Mr. Doane. He goes there, too. You have been away a long time, and Mr. Doane take the advantage."

Rathburn's eyes were narrowing, and the Mexican evidently took his face for an encouraging sign.

"Mr. Doane--he is not lucky at cards," continued Gomez. "He like to play, and he play lots; but not too well. Maybe he have more luck in love--while you are away."

"What do you mean?" asked Rathburn through his teeth.

"Oh, you do not know?" The Mexican raised his black brows. "While you are away, Mr. Doane make hay while the sun s.h.i.+ne bright. He was there much. He was there last night before you. He tries hard to steal your senorita before you come, and he will try to keep her now." He winked slyly.

Rathburn suddenly grasped him by the throat. "What are you tryin' to say?" he asked sternly, shaking the Mexican like a rat.

Gomez broke away, his black eyes darting fire. "You are a fool!" he exclaimed. "You get nothing. Even your woman, she is stole right under your eyes. Doane, he goes there, and he gets her. She fall for him fast. Then she talks to you with sugar in her mouth, and you believe.

Bah! You think the Senorita Mallory----"

Rathburn's open palm crashed against the Mexican's mouth.

"Don't speak her name, you greaser!"

Gomez staggered back under the force of the slap. His eyes were pin points of fire. He raised his right hand to his mouth and then to the brim of his sombrero. His breath came in hissing gasps, as the hatred blazed in his glittering eyes.

Rathburn's face was white under its heavy coating of tan. He saw the few men at the bar turn and look in their direction, and he realized instinctively that these men were gamblers and shady characters who were probably friends of Eagen and his gang.

"I give you my regards," cried Gomez in a frenzy of rage. "You--gringo!"

His right hand tipped his sombrero in a lightning move, and there was a flash in the sunlight filtering through the back windows, as Rathburn's gun barked at his hip.

Gomez crumpled backward to the floor, as the knife dropped from his grasp at the beginning of the throw.

Rathburn, still holding his smoking gun ready, walked rapidly past the men at the bar and gained the open through the door at the rear.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

THE COMPa.s.s FAILS

In the alley behind the buildings fronting on the main street, Rathburn paused in indecision, while he shoved his gun into the holster on his thigh. He had known by the look in Gomez's eyes that he was going to throw a knife. Instinct had caused him to watch the Mexican's right hand, and, in the instant when Gomez had secured the knife from his hat and snapped back his hand for the throw, Rathburn had drawn and fired. He knew well the dexterity of a man of Gomez's stamp with a knife. The gun route was the only chance to protect his life. But Rathburn realized, too, that he had shot to kill!

He had been incensed by the Mexican's subtle insinuations--maddened by the way he leered when he spoke Laura Mallory's name. He had virtually been driven to it. Even now he could not see how he could have avoided it.

Securing his horse, Rathburn rode swiftly around a back street to a small barn on the edge of the desert. He ordered his mount watered and fed. He had known the man who owned this barn, but the individual who attended to his horse was a new employee. He sat in the little front office which also served as the quarters of the night man, while his horse was being looked after. He had not removed his saddle.

Rathburn's thoughts dwelt on what Gomez had said. There was no question but that the Mexican had taken liberties in saying what he did, but there was more than a glimmer of truth in his statements.

Rathburn had seen the man leaving Laura Mallory on the porch of the Mallory ranch house. She had mentioned a man named Doane as having brought word that he, Rathburn, was back in the country and in more trouble. Now Gomez had identified this visitor as Doane, the man who had been calling on Laura Mallory regularly. Rathburn's brows wrinkled at the thought. But why not? What hold had he upon her? It certainly wasn't within his rights to resent the fact that another man had found the girl attractive. But, to his increasing torment, he found that he _did_ resent it; he couldn't help it!

Suddenly he remembered that Gomez had said Eagen was paying a call on Doane. What could Eagen have to do with Doane which would warrant his visiting him early in the morning? Rathburn recalled that Gomez had intimated that Doane liked to play cards. Was the man then a professional gambler? But no, Gomez had said he did not play well.

Rathburn tried to recollect where he had seen this man Doane before.

The blond face and mustache were vaguely familiar. Again he strove to place the man without result.

He shrugged his shoulders, drew out his gun, and replaced the empty sh.e.l.l with a fresh cartridge. He dropped the weapon back into his holster and went outside to see about his horse. The dun still was feeding. Rathburn contented himself with looking over his saddle and readjusting the small slicker pack on its rear. Then he paced the length of the barn, frowning in a thoughtful mood.

There was only one thing he was reasonably sure of; no one around the town knew that he was the outlaw known as The Coyote. He had not seen anybody he knew except the sheriff, and that official was safely out of the way for the present. Gomez had mentioned his name when they had first met, but he had not been heard save by Rathburn. Therefore, if they were looking for the man who had shot down Gomez, they were merely looking for a man measuring up to his description; and Rathburn doubted if anything would be done until the authorities had been notified. Visitors to the sheriff's office would find Long out and would a.s.sume that he had not returned from the chase in the hills. It might be another hour before the sheriff's predicament was discovered.

And in that hour----

Rathburn caught himself up with another shrug. He was falling a prey to his former hopeless trend of thought. Resentment was swelling within him again, and he struggled to put it down. Perhaps it would be safer to yield to the inclination to take a chance on the courts.

It was after nine o'clock when he rode out of the barn. He proceeded straight toward the main street of the town. He was struggling with a half-formed resolve; summoning courage by shutting out all recollections save that of Laura Mallory's apparently earnest remark about the compa.s.s.

Reaching the main street, he started to turn the corner at the bank building when he suddenly checked his horse and stared at two people walking up the opposite side of the street. Rathburn recognized the girl immediately. She was Laura Mallory. A moment later he caught a glimpse of the man's face, as he half turned toward Rathburn, laughing. He had taken Laura's arm. It was Doane!

The realization that Laura had come to town and was in the company of Doane stunned Rathburn. More than anything else it had the effect of convincing him that Gomez had been right when he had hinted that Doane was successful in love. Hadn't she told him to take his gun when Eagen had been waiting for him? Had she thought, perhaps, that there would be gun play, and that Eagen might emerge the victor, thus a.s.suring her that he, Rathburn, would bother her no more?

Rathburn's eyes narrowed, and his face froze, as he watched Laura and Doane out of sight up the street. He knew now why he had had to come back. There was nothing left--nothing but his dreams, his sinister reputation, and his gun!