"Before I say anything on that subject I should like to know to whom I am talking," he said.

Train swept a ponderous hand toward his fellow visitors, pointing them out in turn. "There's Truxton, of the Diamond Dot; Holcomb, of the Star; Henningson, of the Three Bar; Yeager, of the Three Diamond; an' Clark, of the Circle Y."

"Correct," affirmed Norton, behind Hollis.

Hollis smiled grimly; he had caught a belligerent note in Norton's voice. Plainly, if the range boss were allowed a voice in the matter, these visitors would have now received as little encouragement as they had received from Dunlavey. But Hollis's smile showed that he held different views.

"I am Kent Hollis," he said to the men; "I suppose you know that."

"I reckon we know you," said Train; "you're Jim Hollis's boy."

"Then you know that Dunlavey and my father were not exactly bosom friends," returned Hollis.

Several heads bobbed affirmatively; others sat grimly silent. Hollis smiled.

"How many of you offered to help my father when he came to you asking for a.s.sistance in his fight against Dunlavey?"

Train fidgeted. "I reckon they wasn't much chance----" he began, and then hesitated, looking around at his fellows.

"Of course," returned Hollis quietly, after an embarra.s.sed pause, "there wasn't much chance for you to win then. And you had to take a big risk to help my father. But he had to take a bigger risk to fight alone.

Still he fought. And he fought alone. He was almost ruined. And now you men are facing ruin. And you have come to Jim Hollis's son to help you.

Do you think he ought?"

The men sat silent; the spokesman was without words.

"How many men can the six of you muster--in case Dunlavey should try to carry out his decision to drive your cattle from the Rabbit-Ear--or shoot them?"

"Eighteen, I reckon," returned Train, looking at the others, who nodded affirmatively to his question.

Hollis turned to Norton. "How many men does Dunlavey employ?" he questioned.

"Thirty," snapped Norton. "But in case he needed them he c'n get a hundred."

"Big odds," smiled Hollis. "Why should I volunteer to help you fight Dunlavey? My cattle are certain of getting enough water. Why should I not be selfish, as you men were when my father went to you for a.s.sistance?"

There was no answer. The faces that surrounded Hollis in the semi-darkness showed plainly that their owners had given up thoughts of a.s.sistance. Grim, hard lines came into them; two or three sneered. Of course they would fight Dunlavey; there was no alternative, for they could not stand idly by and see their cattle slain--Dunlavey could not drive them from water, they would have to be shot. They had reckoned on securing help from Hollis; he held one side of the Rabbit-Ear and with his support they were in a position to make things very unpleasant for any of Dunlavey's men who might, from the opposite side of the river, attempt to shoot their cattle. But with Hollis against them they would be powerless; with Hollis against them Dunlavey's men could swarm both sides of the river and the destruction of their cattle would be certain.

All of the men knew this. Yet they did not answer Hollis's question.

They had not come to plead with him; they knew that the situation had narrowed down to a point where they could depend only on their own resources. They would not plead, yet as they silently started to file off the gallery there were bitter smiles on several of their faces.

There were no threats; perhaps Hollis had succeeded in showing them the similarity between his conduct and their own in the long ago, when his father had gone to them for a.s.sistance. At least this was what he had tried to show them.

Lemuel Train was the last man down the gallery. He turned as he reached the ground and looked back over his shoulder at Hollis.

"So-long," he said shortly. "I reckon you're even now."

Hollis had not moved. "Wait, Train!" he said. The visitors halted and faced him.

"Men," he said quietly, "you have not answered my question. I am going to repeat it: Why should I not be selfish, as you men were when my father went to you for a.s.sistance?"

Lemuel Train smiled ironically. "Why, I reckon it's your trick, mister man," he said; "you've got all the cards."

"Come back here, men," said Hollis. "Since none of you care to answer my question I will answer it myself." He stood silent while the men filed back and resumed seats on the gallery edge. Darkness had come on while he had been talking to the men and inside the ranchhouse Mrs. Norton had lighted the kerosene lamp and its weak, flickering rays straggled out into the darkness and upon Hollis's face and the faces of several of the men who sat on the edge of the gallery.

Hollis knew that he might readily become melodramatic in the few words that he purposed to say to the men, and so when he began talking he adopted a low, even tone, confidential, serious. He told them that the things he had written in his salutatory in the _Kicker_, months before, had been an honest declaration of the principles in which he believed. This was America, he repeated; they were all Americans; they were all ent.i.tled to that freedom of thought, speech, and movement for which their forefathers had fought. For one, he purposed to fight, if necessary, to retain his rights.

He told them that he held no ill-feeling against them on account of their refusal to a.s.sist his father. That was past history. But now they were to look into the future; they were all facing ruin if they did not combine in a common cause. So far as he was concerned their cattle might remain at the Rabbit-Ear until the drought ended, or until the stream went dry. And if Dunlavey fought them--well, he would be with them to the finish.

When he had concluded Lemuel Train stepped forward and shook his hand.

The others followed. There was no word spoken. The men filed down from the gallery, sought their horses, mounted, and rode slowly away into the darkness. When they had gone Hollis turned to resume his chair, but found Norton standing near him, looking at him with a curious smile.

"Shake!" said the latter. "I knowed you'd do it that way!"

CHAPTER XV

TO SUPPORT THE LAW

Hollis alone, of all the men whose cattle grazed on the Circle Bar side of the Rabbit-Ear, really doubted that Dunlavey would have the courage to inaugurate a war against the small owners. Lemuel Train was particularly strong in his belief that Dunlavey would not hesitate to shoot whatever cattle infringed on what he considered were his rights.

"I know the skunk!" he declared heatedly to Hollis a day or two after the conversation on the porch at the Circle Bar. "He'll do it. I'm only scared that he won't wait till the tenth day before beginnin'. Why in h.e.l.l don't it rain?"

This remained the great, universal interrogation. But at the end of a week it was unanswered. The sun swam in its endless circles, a great ball of molten silver at which no man could look with the naked eye, traveling its slow way through a blurred, white sky, sinking to the horizon in the evening and leaving a scorched, blasted, gasping country behind. The nights brought no relief. Clark, of the Circle Y, sarcastically declared it to be his belief that some meddler in things firmamental was paying the owner of the sun to work it overtime.

Hollis's daily twenty mile ride from the Circle Bar to Dry Bottom and return became a trial to him. At night, when he returned from the trip, hot, dry, dusty, he would draw a chair out on the gallery floor and scan the sky for signs of rain. To his recollection since his adventure on the night of the storm there had not been a cloud in the sky. On the trails the dust was inches deep and light as a feather. It rose in stifling whirlwinds, filling the nostrils and the lungs, parching the tongues of man and beast and accentuating the suffering caused by lack of water.

All the pleasure had been drawn from Hollis's rides because of the dryness and heat. On a morning a week following the day upon which Dunlavey had issued his warning to the cattle owners, Hollis made his usual trip to Dry Bottom. Norton accompanied him, intending to make some purchases in town. They rode the ten miles without incident and Hollis left Norton at the door of the _Kicker_ office, after telling the range boss to come back to the office when he had made his purchases as he intended returning to the Circle Bar before noon. Hollis found Potter inside. The latter had remained in Dry Bottom over night and was busy at a type case when his chief entered. Hollis did not remain long in the office. He looked over some letters that Potter had placed on his desk, placed one in a pocket and rose, telling Potter that he would be back and instructing him to tell Norton to await his coming should the latter return before him. Then he went down to the court house.

He found the door of Judge Graney's court room slightly ajar and without knocking he pushed it open and entered. On the threshold he halted and drew a deep breath. Judge Graney was seated at the big table, and directly opposite him, leaning heavily on his elbows, his face inflamed with anger, sat Dunlavey. Near a window at the side of the room stood a grave faced man of medium height, slender and muscular, who was watching the Judge and Dunlavey soberly.

At Hollis's sudden appearance the Judge looked up and smiled, while Dunlavey faced around, a derisive, mocking grin on his face. Hollis bore no marks of the recent attack beyond the left wrist, still in splints.

"Come in," invited Judge Graney, his smile growing, his eyes glinting oddly. "I think, since you are responsible for the startling innovation which we have been discussing, that you are ent.i.tled to a word."

He gravely waved Hollis to a chair and stood silent while the latter sank into it. Then he smiled, glancing furtively at Dunlavey and addressing Hollis.

"Perhaps you will remember that some time ago you printed an article in the _Kicker_ urging upon the Government the necessity of bringing the law into Union County?"

Hollis nodded. "Yes," he said quietly; "I remember."

"Well," resumed the Judge, "the article has borne fruit. But perhaps not in the manner you expected." He laughed around at the three, deliberately closing an eye at Hollis. "You know," he resumed, addressing them all, his eyes twinkling as his gaze met Dunlavey's, "that the law is an expensive inst.i.tution. It is a fundamental principle--at least of some governments," he smiled--"that a community that desires the law must pay, and pay dearly--for it. In short, if it wants the law it must pay taxes. I do not say that that is a principle which our government is applying, but I do say that it is an eminently fair proposition.

"At all events I have received word from the Interior Department that if we want the law to come out here we must pay for it. That is not said in so many words, but that is the inference, if we are to consider the instructions of the Secretary of the Interior--which are: 'I am informed that several large ranch owners in Union County are inclined to evade taxation. Especially is this true--I am told--of a man named Dunlavey, who, if the report is correct, paid, during the last half year, taxes on five hundred head of cattle, whereas it is claimed that his holdings will amount to about five thousand, yearly average. In view of this ridiculously low return it seems inc.u.mbent upon me to appoint an inquisitor, whose duty----"

Dunlavey laughed harshly, interrupting the Judge. Then he turned suddenly to Hollis, his face inflamed with pa.s.sion.

"I reckon this is some of your work?" he snarled.