"Well, now's your chance to smoke me up good an' plenty an' get away with it," said Rathburn cheerfully. "I'm shy my gun which the sheriff has borrowed." "You figure he's just borrowed it?" sneeringly inquired Carlisle. Rathburn rose and surveyed his visitor. "I reckon I've got to tolerate you," he drawled. "I can't pick my company in here." "I've got your number," snarlingly replied Carlisle in a low voice. Rathburn sauntered close to the bars, rolling a cigarette. "If you have, Carlisle, you've got a winning number," he said evenly. "Whatever your play is here, I dunno," said Carlisle; "but you won't get away with it as easy as you did over the range in Dry Lake." Rathburn's eyes never flickered as he coolly lit his cigarette with a steady hand. "You're plumb full of information, eh, Carlisle?" "I was over there an' heard about how you stuck up that joint an' tried to blame it on some kid by the name of Lamy," said Carlisle, watching Rathburn closely. "You sure that was the way of it?" asked Rathburn casually. "No," replied the other. "I know the kid stuck up the joint an' you took the blame to keep him under cover. I don't know your reasons, but I guess you don't want the facts known. You broke jail. They ain't forgot _that_ over in Dry Lake. There's a reward out for you over there, an I wouldn't be surprised if there was some money on your head in Arizona, Coyote!" Rathburn's eyes were points of red between narrowed lids. "The Coyote!" said Carlisle in a hoarse voice of triumph. "An' the way it looks I'm the only one hereabouts that knows it." "I told you you was plumb full of information," said Rathburn. "The Coyote has a bit of a record, they tell me," Carlisle leered. "There's more'n one sheriff would pay a pretty price to get him safe, eh?" "Just what's your idea in telling _me_ all this, Carlisle; why don't you tell what you know to Mannix, say?" "Maybe I'm just teasing you along." "Not a chance, Carlisle. I know your breed." The other's face darkened, and his eyes glittered as he peered in through the bars. "What's _your_ breed?" he asked sneeringly. "I don't have to tell you that, Carlisle. You _know_!" said Rathburn with a taunting laugh. Carlisle struggled with his anger for a brief spell. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "I ain't going to poke at you in a cage," he said in a more civil tone; "an' I ain't going to tell anybody what I know. Remember that." "I ain't the forgetting kind," Rathburn flung after him as he walked swiftly away. Again Rathburn sat on the edge of the bunk and smoked and thought. 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.