reckon you're forgettin' that Bob Long
knows I travel alone," he said hotly. "He savvys I don't travel with a
crowd. I ain't found it necessary so far, an' I ain't aiming to start.
I counted eight in your gang--to hold up one stage, eh?" He concluded
with a sneer, while the other shifted nervously in his saddle and cast
a quick look back over his shoulder. There seemed no one there.

"You needn't be lookin' around," Rathburn said coldly. "You're goin'
to stay here till you answer my question, if all the sheriffs in
Arizona come ridin' up meanwhile. Who's headin' your gang?"

"That ain't professional," the fugitive grumbled. "You're just the
same as one of us."

Then, seeing the look that came into Rathburn's eyes, he said hastily:
"Mike Eagen planned the lay."

"I guessed it," said Rathburn in a tone of contempt. "Well, you better
slope while you've still got a chance."

He motioned to the man to go, and the latter rode at a gallop up the
arroyo and out of sight. Rathburn's face wore a worried scowl, as he
slid his gun into its holster, whirled his horse, and speedily climbed
the east side of the arroyo.

From a vantage point he caught sight again of the horsemen racing up
from the south. They were much nearer, and he could readily make out
the members of the sheriff's posse. He had had experience with posses
before.

Striking around the crest of the high ground which formed the east
side of the arroyo, he again raced toward the range of mountains in
the east, taking advantage of every bit of cover which offered
concealment from the riders approaching at top speed from the south.

Occasional glances made it plain that the sheriff was sending, or
personally bringing, most of his posse east in the direction of the
mountains, presumably in the hope of cutting off the outlaws from
seeking refuge in the hills. But the mountains were Rathburn's goal as
well as the goal of a majority of Mike Eagen's band, though for
totally different reasons. He refused to change his direction,
although by going north, the stout, speedy dun could doubtless
outdistance the posse before the afternoon was spent.

Rathburn's teeth snapped shut, his jaw squared, and his eyes narrowed,
as he saw indubitable signs that he had been detected. Two of the
posse were waving their arms and dashing in his direction. At that
distance they could not identify him, but under the circumstances such
identification was unnecessary. His presence there,