Hollis had already decided that he would not "scare." He grinned at several of the men who watched him and then turned and instructed Potter to take down a column of type on the first page of the paper to make room for an article that he intended to write. Then he seized a pen and wrote a red hot defiance directed at the authors of the notice, which Potter set up under the heading:

"Why the Editor of the _Kicker_ Won't Take the Express."

In clear, terse language he told his audience his reasons. This was America; he was an American, and he didn't purpose to allow the Cattlemen's a.s.sociation--or any other a.s.sociation, gang, or individual--to dictate the policy of his paper or influence his private actions. Least of all did he purpose to allow anyone to "run him out of town." He printed the notice entire, adding his answer, a.s.suring readers that he was sending copies of the _Kicker_ to every newspaper in the East and that notices such as had been affixed to his door would react against the authors. He ended with the prophecy that the law would come into Union County and that meanwhile the _Kicker_ purposed to fight.

At noon Hollis took the usual number of copies to the station and mailed them. Walking down the street on his return from the station he attracted much attention. Men stood in the open doorways of saloons watching him, a number openly jeered; others sent subtle jibes after him. Still others were silent, their faces expressing amus.e.m.e.nt.

But he looked at none of them. He swung along the board walk, his face a little pale, his lips tightly closed, determined to pay no attention to the jeers that reached his ears.

When he pa.s.sed the Fashion there were a number of men draped along its front; and he was conscious of many grins. Pa.s.sing the men he heard low laughter and profane reference which caused his cheeks to redden. But he walked steadily on. Near the _Kicker_ office he met Jiggs Lenehan.

Followed by the youth he reached the office to find that Potter had completed the press work and that several hundred copies of the paper, the ink still moist on its pages, were stacked in orderly array on the imposing stone. In a very brief time Jiggs burst out of the office door, a bundle of papers under his arm, and began the work of distribution.

Standing back from the window with Potter, Hollis watched Jiggs until the latter reached the crowd in front of the Fashion saloon. Then all that Hollis could see of him was his red head. But that trade was brisk was proved by the press around Jiggs--the youth was pa.s.sing out papers at a rapid rate and soon nearly every man in the crowd about the Fashion was engaged in reading, or,--if this important feature of his education had been neglected--in questioning his neighbor concerning the things that appeared in the paper.

Presently Jigg's customers in front of the Fashion were all supplied.

Then other purchasers appeared. Soon the _Kicker_ was being read by--it seemed--nearly every grown person in Dry Bottom. Business was suspended. Down the street men were congregated about the doors of many of the stores; others were sitting in doorways, still others leaned against buildings; some, not taking time to search for support, read while walking, or stood motionless on the board sidewalks, satisfying their curiosity.

Hollis watched through the window until he began to be certain that every person in town was supplied with a paper. Then with a grim smile he left the window and sought his chair beside the desk. He was satisfied. Dunlavey had made the first aggressive movement and the fight was on.

CHAPTER IX

HOW A BAD MAN LEFT THE "KICKER" OFFICE

It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when the _Kicker_ appeared on Dry Bottom's street. At about five minutes after one, Potter left the front of the office and walked to the rear room where he halted at the imposing stone. There he proceeded to "take down" the four forms.

This done he calmly began distributing type.

While Potter worked Hollis sat very quietly at his desk in the front office, his arms folded, one hand supporting his chin, his lips forming straight lines, his eyes narrowed with a meditative expression.

Occasionally Potter glanced furtively at him, his eyes filled with mingled expressions of sympathy, admiration, and concern.

Potter appreciated his chief's position. It meant something for a man of Hollis's years and training to bury himself in this desolate sink-hole of iniquity; to elect to carry on an unequal war with interests that controlled the law machinery of the county and Territory--whose power extended to Washington. No doubt the young man was even now brooding over the future, planning his fight, pessimistically considering his chances of success. Potter's sympathy grew. He thought of approaching his chief with a word of encouragement. But while he hesitated, mentally debating the propriety of such an action, Hollis turned quickly and looked fairly at him, his forehead perplexed.

"Potter," he remarked, "I suppose there isn't a good brain specialist in this section of the country?"

"Why--why----" began Potter. Then he stopped and looked at his chief in wordless astonishment. His sympathy had been wasted.

"No," laughed Hollis, divining the cause of the compositor's astonishment, "personally I have no use for a brain specialist. I was thinking of some other person."

"Not me?" grinned Potter from behind his type case. He flushed a little at the thought of how near he had come to offering encouragement to a man who had not been in need of it, who, evidently, had not been thinking of the big fight at all. "Perhaps I need one," he added, eyeing Hollis whimsically; "a moment ago I thought you were in the dumps on account of the situation here--you seemed rather disturbed. It surprised me considerably to find that you had not been thinking of Dunlavey at all."

"No," admitted Hollis gravely, "I was not thinking of Dunlavey. I was wondering if something couldn't be done for Ed Hazelton."

"Something ought to be done for him," declared Potter earnestly. "I have watched that young man closely and I am convinced that with proper care and treatment he would recover fully. But I never heard of a specialist in this section--none, in fact, nearer than Chicago. And I've forgotten his name."

"It is Hammond," supplied Hollis. "I've been thinking of him. I knew his son in college. I am going to write to him."

He turned to his desk and took up a pen, while Potter resumed his work of distributing type.

About half an hour later Jiggs Lenehan strolled into the office wearing a huge grin on his face. "'Pears like everybody in town wants to read the _Kicker_ to-day," he said with a joyous cackle. "Never had so much fun sellin' them. Gimme some more," he added breathlessly; "they's a gang down to the station howlin' for them. Say," he yelled at Hollis as he went out of the door with a big bundle of _Kickers_ under his arm, "you're cert'nly some editor man!" He grinned admiringly and widely as he disappeared.

Hollis finished his letter to Hammond and then leaned back in his chair.

For half an hour he sat there, looking gravely out into the street and then, answering a sudden impulse, he rose and strode to the door.

"Going down to the court house," he informed Potter.

He found Judge Graney in his room, seated at the big table, a copy of the _Kicker_ spread out in front of him. At his appearance the Judge pushed back his chair and regarded him with an approving smile.

"Well, Hollis," he said, "I see Dunlavey has played the first card."

"He hasn't taken the first trick," was the young man's quick reply.

"Fortunately not," laughed the judge. He placed a finger on a column in the _Kicker_. "This article about the Cattlemen's a.s.sociation is a hummer--if I may be allowed the phrase. A straight, manly citation of the facts. It ought to win friends for you."

"I've merely stated the truth," returned Hollis, "and if the article seems good it is merely because it defends a principle whose virtue is perfectly obvious."

"But only a man who felt strongly could have written it," suggested the Judge.

"Perhaps. I admit feeling a deep interest in the question of cattle."

"Your ambition?" slyly insinuated the Judge.

"Is temporarily in abeyance--perhaps permanently."

"Then your original decision about remaining here has been--well, strengthened?"

Hollis nodded. The Judge grinned mysteriously. "There is an article on the first page of the _Kicker_ which interested me greatly," he said. "It concerns the six o'clock train--going east. Do you happen to know whether the editor of the _Kicker_ is going to use the express?"

Hollis smiled appreciatively. "The editor of the _Kicker_ is going to use the express," he admitted, "though not in the manner some people are wishing. The usual number of copies of the _Kicker_ are going to ride on the express, as are also some very forceful letters to the President of the United States and the Secretary of the Interior."

"Good!" said the Judge. He looked critically at Hollis. "I know that you are going to remain in Dry Bottom," he said slowly; "I have never doubted your courage. But I want to warn you to be careful. Don't make the mistake of thinking that the notice which you found on the door of the _Kicker_ office this morning is a joke. They don't joke like that out here. Of course I know that you are not afraid and that you won't run. But be careful--there are men out here who would snuff out a human life as quickly as they would the flame of a candle, and with as little fear of the consequences. I shouldn't like to hear of you using your revolver, but if you do have occasion to use it, use it fast and make a good job of it."

"I don't like to use a gun," returned Hollis gravely, "but all the same I shall bear your advice in mind." An expression of slight disgust swept over his face. "I don't see why men out here don't exhibit a little more courage," he said. "They all 'pack' a gun, as Norton says, and all are apparently yearning to use one. I don't see what satisfaction there could be in shooting a man with whom you have had trouble; it strikes me as being a trifle cowardly." He laughed grimly. "For my part," he added, "I can get more satisfaction out of slugging a man. Perhaps it isn't so artistic as shooting, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that your antagonist realizes and appreciates his punishment."

Judge Graney's gaze rested on the muscular frame of the young man. "I suppose if all men were built like you there would be less shooting done. But unfortunately nature has seen fit to use different molds in making her men. Not every man has the strength or science to use his fists, nor the courage. But there is one thing that you will do well to remember. When you slug a man who carries a gun you only beat him temporarily; usually he will wait his chance and use his gun when you least expect him."

"I suppose you refer to Yuma Ed and Dunlavey?" suggested Hollis.

"Well, no, not Dunlavey. I have never heard of Dunlavey shooting anybody; he plays a finer game. But Yuma Ed, Greasy, Ten Spot, and some more who belong to the Dunlavey crowd are professional gun-men and do not hesitate to shoot. The chances are that Dunlavey will try to square accounts with you in some other manner, but I would be careful of Yuma--a blow in the face never sets well on a man of that character."

An hour later, when Hollis sat at his desk in the _Kicker_ office, Judge Graney's words were recalled to him. He was thinking of his conversation with the Judge when Jiggs Lenehan burst into the office, breathless, his face pale and his eyes swimming with news. He was trembling With excitement.

"Ten Spot is comin' down here to put you out of business!" he blurted out when he could get his breath. "I was in the Fashion an' I heard him an' Yuma talkin' about you. Ten Spot is comin' here at six o'clock!"

Hollis turned slowly in his chair and faced the boy. His cheeks whitened a little. Judge Graney had been right. Hollis had rather expected at some time or other he would have to have it out with Yuma, but he had expected he would have to deal with Yuma himself. He smiled a little grimly. It made very little difference whether he fought Yuma or some other man; when he had elected to remain in Dry Bottom he had realized that he must fight somebody--everybody in the Dunlavey crew. He looked at his watch and saw that the hands pointed to four. Therefore he had two hours to prepare for Ten Spot's coming. He smiled at the boy, looked back into the composing room and saw that Potter had ceased his labors and was leaning on a type case, watching him soberly. He grinned broadly at Potter and turned to Jiggs.

"How many _Kickers_ did you sell?"