with you. I suppose you're here as a missionary to tip me off.
Thanks."

Eagen had calmed down. He stepped closer to Rathburn and spoke in a
low tone.

"Here's the lay: They're after you, an' they're after us. I know
you're no stool pigeon, an' I know I ain't takin' a chance when I tell
you that we've got a big job comin' up--one that'll get us a pretty
roll. It takes nerve to pull it off, even though certain things will
make it easier. You might just as well be in on it. You can make it a
last job an' blow these parts for good. You don't have to come in, of
course; but it'll be worth your while. You've got the name, an' you
might as well have what goes with it. I'll let you head the outfit an'
shoot square all the way."

Rathburn laughed scornfully. "When I heard you was out here, Eagen, I
guessed it was something like this that brought you here. Maybe you're
statin' facts as to this job which, you say, is coming up. But you
lied when you said you'd shoot square, Eagen. I wouldn't trust you as
far as you could throw a bull by the tail, an' there's half a dozen
other reasons why you an' me couldn't be pardners!"

Eagen stepped back with a snarl of rage. "I don't reckon you're
entitled to what rep you've got!" he blurted hoarsely. "Right down
under the skin, Rathburn, I believe you're soft!"

"That's puttin' it up to me all fair an' square," Rathburn replied
evenly. "I'll give it right back to you, Eagen."

"Get that gun out of the window."

"Mallory."

"Right here, Rathburn, an' all set," came Mallory's voice.

"Get that gun out of the window."

"What's that? Don't you see there's three of 'em? You----"

"Get that gun out of the window!" rang Rathburn's voice.

"Let him play with it," Eagen said harshly.

Mallory withdrew from the window, as Eagen reached for his left
stirrup and swung into the saddle.

"I see you ain't takin' it," Rathburn called to him with a jeering
laugh.

"An' I ain't forgettin' it?" Eagen shouted, as he drove in his spurs.

His three companions galloped after him, and Rathburn caught sight of
a dark-skinned face, a pair of beady, black eyes, and the long,
drooping mustaches of one of the men.

"Gomez!" he exclaimed to himself. "Eagen's takin' up with the
Mexicans."

Mallory appeared in the kitchen door, holding a lamp above his head.
"What'd he want?" he demanded of Rathburn.

"More'n he got," answered Rathburn shortly. Then he saw Laura Mallory
standing behind her fathe