way he
moved his right hand, in the alertness of his eye. He frowned, for
Rathburn was smiling. There was a quality to that smile which was not
lost upon the doughty officer.

"I take it you've got sense enough to come along easylike," he said,
with just a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Yes, I've been known to show some sense, sheriff; now that's a
fact."

"I'll have to ask you for your gun," said the deputy grimly.

"I've never been known to hand over my gun, sheriff," drawled
Rathburn. "Now that's another fact."

Again the tension in the room was high. Others than Mannix, and
probably Carlisle, had readily discerned in the gray-eyed stranger a
certain menacing prowess which is much respected where weapons are the
rule in unexpected emergencies. The crowd backed to the wall.

The deputy wet his lips, and his face grew a shade paler. Then
suddenly he went for his gun, as Rathburn dropped, like a shot, to the
floor. There came the crack of Carlisle's pistol and a laugh from
Rathburn. The deputy, gun in hand, stared at Rathburn who rose quickly
to his feet. Then he thought to cover him. Rathburn raised his hands
while Carlisle returned his own smoking weapon to its holster. Mannix
turned and glared at Carlisle in perplexity.

"I don't know what his game is, Mannix; but he could have drawn down
on you in a wink and shot you in your tracks if he'd wanted to," said
Carlisle.

"So you were taking the play in your own hands," Mannix accused.

The deputy looked at Rathburn angrily. Then he advanced and took the
prisoner's six-shooter from him. He brought handcuffs out of his
pockets.

Rathburn's face went white. "If what Carlisle says is true, it doesn't
look as if I was trying to get away, does it, sheriff?" he asked
coldly.

Mannix was thoughtful for a moment. "Well, come along," he ordered,
thrusting the steel bracelets back into his pocket.

"I'll go with you," Carlisle volunteered.

"That's up to you," snapped out the deputy. "I ain't asking you to."

The trio left the place as the spectators gazed after them in wonder.
There was a hum of excited conversation as the deputy and his prisoner
and Carlisle passed through the door.

No word was spoken on the way to the small, two-room, one-story
structure which served as a detention place for persons under arrest
until they could be transferred to the county jail in the town where
the railroad touched. Petty offenders served their sentences there,
however.