"That's a fine crop of freckles you've got," said the sheriff.

Rathburn saw Lamy put a hand to his face and make a grimace.

"Listen, Frankie, did you see anybody around here this morning?" asked the sheriff.

"Who--who you looking for?" asked the boy.

Rathburn started; his body suddenly tensed.

"I'm looking for an outlaw they call The Coyote," returned the sheriff. "Ever hear of him?"

"Y-e-s. Ed brought home a notice about a reward for him."

"That's the man we're after. Rides a dun-colored horse; tall, light-complexioned. Seen anybody like that around here?"

"He was here day before yesterday," said the boy truthfully. "Sis gave him something to eat, an' he went on into town. He didn't seem like such a bad man to me. Told me never to lie."

"He was here? Ate here?" The sheriff's voice was excited.

Rathburn saw Lamy's eyes widen.

"Frankie," the sheriff said soberly, "that Coyote went into town an'

robbed a place. He's a bad, dangerous man no matter how he looks or what he says. Have you seen anybody that looked like him since?"

The question was followed by a deep silence.

Rathburn alert, his eyes gleaming, heard the sheriff rise.

"Answer me, boy. I'm the sheriff of this county!"

"'Tain't that--'tain't that," said the boy in a tremulous voice.

"Only--I'd rather not tell, Mr. Sheriff."

"You must answer me!" said the official sternly. "Have you seen any one around here--yesterday or this morning?"

"Ye-e-s."

"When?" demanded the sheriff. "Don't lie!"

"This--this morning," stammered the boy.

"Where? Tell me about it, quick."

"Two men ran across from the timber to the house," replied the boy.

"He--he said not to lie for him--but----"

The sheriff stepped quickly to the kitchen door. "I thought you said no one had been around here, ma'am."

"Why--I didn't see any one," came the girl's voice.

"I saw 'em from the pasture," the boy confessed.

"Then they're here!" cried the sheriff. "Search the house an' the barn!"

In the dim, narrow cellar Rathburn was holding his gun aimed at Lamy's heart.

"You remember what I said about keepin' your mouth shut?" he asked in a low voice, his steel-blue gaze boring into the other's eyes.

Lamy gasped. Then he slowly nodded his head.

"That's your bond!" said Rathburn, as tramping feet sounded overhead.

CHAPTER X

CAUGHT IN THE CELLAR

Rathburn rose and crouched under the trapdoor, gun in hand. Lamy watched him, breathless, perplexed, uncertain. They heard men running; then there were no sounds from above and a deathly stillness settled down.

Slowly and with infinite care Rathburn raised the trapdoor an inch or two and listened intently. Lamy scrambled to his knees on the pile of gunny sacks; but Rathburn swung quickly upon him. They stared at each other in the semidarkness.

"He said two," breathed Lamy, a curious look in his eyes.

"Are you afraid?" mocked Rathburn. "It's me they want--don't worry. I may make a break for it, an' if I do there's likely to be powder burned. You can stay here an' get out when they take after me, if I go," said Rathburn, and the sneer in his voice caused Lamy to flush uncomfortably.

Rathburn petted the gun in his hand. "But before I make a break I want to tell you something that I should have told you before this, when I had more time----"

He bit off his speech as there came a sudden recurrence of the sounds in the house. The trapdoor closed down.

"Where's the cellar?" came the sheriff's authoritative voice.

Many feet tramped upon the floor above them. Then they heard the rug stripped back. There was an exclamation from the sheriff and the sound of moving feet suddenly was stilled.

"Is there any one in the cellar?" the sheriff called.

Silence--with Lamy pressing Rathburn's knee with a hand, and Rathburn smiling that queer, grim smile which conveyed so much, yet nothing which was tangible.

"Get around here, you fellows," they heard the sheriff order.

The sound of boots and spurs attested to the quickness with which his order was obeyed.

Rathburn leaned down suddenly and with lightning swiftness jerked Lamy's gun from its holster near his side. He tossed the weapon to a corner of the dark cellar just as the sheriff's voice was heard again.

"Coyote, if you're down there I'm not going to take a chance fumbling with that door. If you ain't there, then there won't be any harm in what I'm going to do. If I don't hear anything when I finish talking I'm going to give the signal to my men to start shooting through the floor--and I mean it. If anybody's down there it'd be good sense to flip up that door and crawl out hands first, an' those hands empty."

"Sheriff, you're bluffing!" said Rathburn loudly.