After a time he went to sleep. The opening of his cell door woke him.

It was Mannix.

"Come to let me out, sheriff?" inquired Rathburn sleepily.

The deputy looked at him keenly, opened the cage, and motioned to him to follow. Rathburn went with him out into the little office. It was broad day. Mannix picked up a pistol from his desk and extended it to Rathburn.

"Here's your gun, Rathburn. You can go," he said, pressing his lips close together.

"Well, now, sheriff, that's right kind of you," Rathburn drawled, concealing his astonishment.

"Don't thank me," snapped out Mannix. "This gentleman asked me to set you loose."

For the first time Rathburn looked squarely at the other man in the office--a thin man, with a cropped mustache, beady eyes, and a narrow face.

The man was regarding him intently, and there seemed to be an amused expression in his eyes. He turned away from Rathburn's gaze.

"I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman,"

said Rathburn agreeably.

"That's George Sautee, manager of the Dixie Queen," said the deputy with a shrug.

CHAPTER XVII

A COMMISSION

Sautee rose and extended his hand with an affable smile. "Will you come to breakfast with me, Mr. Rathburn?"

Rathburn took the hand with a curious side glance at Mannix. "I'm powerful hungry," he confessed; "an' I don't reckon I'd be showing the best of manners if I balked at havin' breakfast with the man that got me out of jail."

"Quite right," admitted Sautee, winking at the deputy. "Well, perhaps I have my reasons. All right, Rathburn, let's be going."

They walked out of the jail, and as they progressed up the street they were the cynosure of many wondering pairs of eyes; for the report had spread that the stranger who had been jailed was the bandit who had made away with the Dixie Queen pay-roll on several occasions, and that he was a gun fighter and a killer.

They entered a restaurant just below the hotel, and Sautee led the way to a booth where they were a.s.sured comparative privacy.

"Ham an' eggs," said Rathburn shortly when the waiter entered.

Sautee smiled again. He was covertly inspecting the man across the table from him and evidently what he saw caused him to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion.

He gave his order with a nod and a mild flourish of the hand, indicating that he would take the same.

"Oh--waiter," called Rathburn. "Four eggs with mine."

Sautee laughed. It was a peculiar laugh in that it seemed to convey little mirth. It was perfunctory.

He gazed at Rathburn quizzically. "They tell me you're a gunman," he said in a low voice.

Rathburn's brows shot up. "They? Who's they?"

Sautee waved a hand impatiently. "I am the manager of the Dixie Queen.

I have been around a bit, and I have eyes. I can see. I know the signals. I witnessed the play in the Red Feather last night."

"That ain't a bad name for the place," Rathburn mused.

"Just what do you suppose was my object in getting you out of jail?"

Sautee asked seriously, leaning over the table and looking at Rathburn searchingly. "You said last night you were a good guesser."

"But I didn't say I was good at riddles," drawled Rathburn.

Sautee leaned back. For a moment there was a gleam of admiration in his eyes. Then they narrowed slightly.

"The Dixie Queen has been robbed four times within the last year," he said soberly. "That represents considerable money. Yesterday I resorted to a ruse and sent the money up with a truck driver, but whoever is doing this thing must have got wise somehow, for the truck driver was held up, as you know, and the money taken."

"Why not put an armed guard on that truck?" asked Rathburn with a yawn.

"I had full confidence in that ruse, and I knew the man who drove the truck could be trusted. Besides, he didn't know what was inside the package."

"How much did they get?" asked Rathburn sharply.

"Twenty-two thousand eight hundred and seventy dollars in cash."

Rathburn stared at the mine manager and whistled softly. "What's the sense in sending it up there at all?" he asked suddenly. "Why not pay off down here in town?"

Sautee sighed with an air of resignation. "That's been argued several times," he complained. "The men demand their pay in cash. They want it at the mine, for more than half of them have refused to come down here for it. It is twenty-nine miles up there to the mine, and it would take all the trucks we've got and two days to bring them down here and take them back. Besides, if we got them down here it would be a week before we could get half of them back up there and at work again."

"But why won't they take checks?" Rathburn demanded.

"It would be the same proposition," Sautee explained. "There is a little village up there--pool room, soft-drink parlor, lunch room, store, and all that--and the men, or a large number of them, would want their checks cashed to make purchases and for spending money, and the cash would have to be transported so the business places could cash the checks. Then, there's another reason. All the mines over on this side of the mountains, clear down into the desert, have always paid in cash. This is an old district, and the matter of getting paid in cash has become a tradition. That's what the company is up against.

We can refuse to do it, but all the other mines do it, and the Dixie Queen would soon have the reputation of being the only mine in the district that didn't pay in cash. The tradition is handed down from the old days when men were paid in gold. There was a time when a miner wouldn't take paper money in this country!"

The waiter entered with the breakfast dishes and they began to eat.

"Your mine owned by a stock company?" Rathburn inquired.

"Certainly," replied Sautee. "All the mines here are. What mine isn't?"

Rathburn ignored the question. "Stockholders live aroun' here?" he asked, between mouthfuls.

"Oh--no, that is, not many," replied Sautee with a quick glance at his questioner. "This district is pretty well worked out. Most of our stockholders live in the Middle West and the East." He winked at Rathburn.

"Any other mines been robbed?" Rathburn persisted.

"No, that's the funny part of it. Still--no, it _isn't_ funny. We're working on the largest scale, and our pay-roll is, naturally, the largest. It furnishes the biggest incentive. In addition, the Dixie Queen is the farthest out from town, and there are many excellent spots for a holdup between town and the mine. Oh, don't look skeptical. I've tried trusted messengers by roundabout trails, and guards and all that. They even held up a convoy on one occasion. I've set traps. I've done everything. But now I've a new idea, and I believe it'll work."

He finished his breakfast and stared steadily at Rathburn who didn't look up, but leisurely drank a second cup of coffee. Sautee noted the slim, tapered right hand of the man across the table from him, the clear, gray eyes, the unmistakable poise of a man who is absolutely and utterly confident and sure of himself. The mine manager's eyes glowed eagerly.