Hollis sat suddenly erect, putting aside his pipe and his ruminations at the same instant, the languor gone from him, his eyes narrowing coldly.

For suddenly, from behind the shrubbery that skirted the edge of the trail, had appeared the man about whom he had been thinking! It was evident that he had not come upon Hollis unexpectedly. He reined in his pony and sat motionless in the saddle, his face white, his eyes alight with pa.s.sion.

For an instant neither man spoke. Hollis realized that the great moment for which he had waited many days had arrived. And it had arrived unexpectedly. It had arrived to find him tired after his activities of the night and in no condition for a fight. He drew a deep breath and got to his feet, a grim smile on his face. He stepped off the porch and stood by one of the columns, watching Dunlavey closely. As he watched the grim smile on his face slowly faded, his lips curled bitterly, his eyes chilled.

"I suppose you've come to collect that thrashing?" he said.

Dunlavey dismounted quickly, his right hand flew to his holster, drawing his revolver. He came toward Hollis crouching, a cold, merciless glitter in his eyes.

"Yes, you tenderfoot ---- ----." he snarled.

From the moment of Hollis's arrival at the court house the night before Ben Allen had been constantly in action. It was late in the morning when he had returned to the court house with his prisoners. The men who had been captured with Dunlavey were still with the troopers, there not being sufficient room at the court house for them. Watkins had been released and Dunlavey had taken his place in the little room that answered for a jail. Shortly before noon Allen proceeded to the station, where he telegraphed to the governor the story of the capture. He had then deputized a dozen punchers and sent them to the Circle Cross to round up a thousand of Dunlavey's cattle and hold them until the late afternoon when, according to Allen's published program, they were to be sold to the highest bidder. Then, tired and hungry, Allen sought the Alhambra and ate a hearty meal.

Dry Bottom was swarming with visitors that had come in for the sale. But by the time Allen had finished eating the exodus had begun. The trail leading to the Circle Cross ranch was dotted with probable bidders, curiosity seekers, idlers, and mere residents of the town. Now that the law had come there were many who discovered that their sympathies had always been with the men who had championed it. Allen found his way to the court house strewn with men who halted him to express their good will. Many people gathered in front of the _Kicker_ office, eager for a glimpse of Hollis. Those who gathered there before twelve-thirty saw him seated at his desk, tall, angular, serious of face, absolutely unaffected by this thing which had caused a sensation. Pa.s.sing the _Kicker_ office on his way to the court house, Allen had paused to look within and shout a greeting to him. Then he had continued on his way.

Arriving at the court house Allen looked in at Dunlavey to find him lying on the floor, apparently asleep. Allen did not disturb him. He went out, threw the saddle on his pony, and rode over to the grove where the soldiers were quartered, talking long with the captain. At two o'clock he returned to the court house to be greeted with the news that Dunlavey had escaped. Allen did not stop to inquire how the escape had been accomplished. He remounted his pony and raced down to the _Kicker_ office, fearing that Dunlavey had gone there. Potter informed him that his chief had departed for the Circle Bar fully an hour and a half before. He had taken the Coyote trail--Potter had watched him.

Allen wheeled his pony and returned to the court house. He was met at the door by Judge Graney. The latter's face was white and drawn with fear.

"He's gone to kill Hollis!" the judge told him through white, set lips.

"I heard him threaten Hollis this morning and a moment ago a man told me that he had seen Dunlavey, not over half an hour ago, riding out the Coyote trail at a dead run!"

Allen's own face whitened. He did not stop to answer but drove the spurs deep into his pony's flanks and rode furiously down the street toward a point near the _Kicker_ office where he struck the trail.

The distance to the Circle Bar ranch was ten miles and Dunlavey had a good half hour's start! He fairly lifted his pony over the first mile, though realizing that he could not hope to arrive at the Circle Bar in time to prevent Dunlavey from carrying out his design to kill Hollis.

No, he told himself as he rode, he could not prevent him from killing Hollis, should he catch the latter unprepared, but he promised himself that Dunlavey should not escape punishment for the deed.

He had had some hope that Dunlavey would accept his defeat philosophically. The latter was not the only man he had seen who had been defeated by the law. Over in Colfax County and up in Wyoming he had dealt with many such men, and usually, after they had seen that the law was inevitable, they had resigned themselves to the new condition and had become pretty fair citizens. He had imagined that Dunlavey would prove to be no exception, that after the first sting of defeat had been removed he would meet his adversaries half way in an effort to patch up their differences. The danger was in the time immediately following the realization of defeat. A man of the Dunlavey type was then usually desperate.

So Allen communed with himself as he rode at a head-long pace down the Coyote trail, risking his neck a dozen times. Not once since he had left Dry Bottom had he considered his own danger.

He had been riding more than half an hour, and was coming up out of a little gully when he came upon a riderless pony, and close by it, browsing near a clump of shrubbery, another. He recognized one of them instantly as Dunlavey's, and his teeth came together with a snap. He rode closer to the other pony, examining it. On one of its hips was a brand--the Circle Bar. Allen's face whitened again. He had arrived too late. But he would not be too late to wreak vengeance upon Dunlavey.

He dismounted and cautiously approached the brush at the side of the trail. Parting it, he saw the roof of a cabin. He recognized it; he had pa.s.sed it a number of times during his exploration of the country. He drew back and crept crept farther along in the brush, certain that he would presently see Dunlavey. But he had not gone very far when he heard voices and he cautiously parted the brush again and peered through.

He started back in surprise, an incredulous grin slowly appearing on his face. The incredulity changed to amus.e.m.e.nt a moment later--when he heard Hollis's voice!

The young man was seated on the edge of the porch--smoking a pipe! Near him, seated on a flat rock, his face horribly puffed out, with several ugly gashes disfiguring it, his eyes blackened, his clothing in tatters, one hand hanging limply by his side, the fingers crushed and bleeding, was Dunlavey! Near him, almost buried in the sand, was a revolver.

Allen's smile broadened when he saw Dunlavey's empty holster. Evidently he had met with a surprise!

While taking in these details Allen had not forgotten to listen to Hollis as the latter talked to Dunlavey. Apparently Hollis had about finished his talk, for his voice was singularly soft and even, and Dunlavey's almost comical air of dejection could not have settled over him in an instant.

"... and so of course I had to thrash you--you had it coming to you. You haven't been a man--you've acted like a sneak and a cur all through this business. You made a thrashing inevitable when you set Yuma on Nellie Hazelton. You'll have plenty of marks to remind you of the one you gave me that night." He pointed to his cheek. "I've got even for that. But I think I wouldn't have trimmed you quite so bad if you hadn't tried to shoot me a few minutes ago."

He puffed silently at his pipe for a short time, during which Dunlavey sat on the rock and squinted pathetically at him. Then he resumed:

"I've heard people talk of d.a.m.ned fools, but never, until I met you, have I been unfortunate enough to come into personal contact with one. I should think that when you saw the soldiers had come you would have surrendered decently. Perhaps you know by now that you can't fight the United States Army--and that you can't whip me. If you've got any sense left at all you'll quit fighting now and try your best to be a good citizen."

He smiled grimly as he rose from the porch and walked to where Dunlavey sat, standing over him and looking down at him.

"Dunlavey," he said, extending his right hand to the beaten man, "let's call it quits. You've been terribly worked up, but you ought to be over it now. You ought to be able to see that it doesn't go. I've thrashed you pretty badly, but you and your men used me up pretty well that night and so it's an even thing. Let's shake and be friends. If you show signs of wanting to be a man again I'll withdraw the charge of cattle stealing which I have placed against you, and I imagine I won't have any trouble in inducing Allen to call off that auction sale and accept settlement of the claim against you."

Until now Dunlavey had avoided looking at the outstretched hand. But now he looked at it, took it and held it for an instant, his bruised and swollen face taking on an expression of lugubrious self-pity.

"I reckon I've got it in the neck all around," he said finally. "But I ain't no squealer and I've got----" His gaze met Hollis's and his eyes gleamed with a reluctant admiration. "By G.o.d, you're white! I reckon you could have tore the rest of me apart like you did my hand." He held up the injured member for inspection.

Allen's grin could grow no broader, and now he showed his increased satisfaction with a subdued cackle. He backed stealthily out of the shrubbery, taking a final glance at the two men. He saw Hollis leading Dunlavey toward a small water hole at the rear of the cabin; saw him bathing Dunlavey's injured hand and binding it with his handkerchief.

Then Allen proceeded to his pony, mounted, and departed for the court house to tell Judge Graney the news that kept his own face continually in a smile.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

AFTERWARD

From Razor-Back ridge the big basin spread away to the Blue Peak mountains. On the opposite side of the ridge began the big plain on which, snuggled behind some cottonwood trees, were the Circle Cross buildings. From where Hollis and Nellie Hazelton sat on the ridge they could look miles down the Coyote trail, into Devil's Hollow; could see the two big cottonwood trees that stood beside Big Elk crossing, above which, on the night of the storm, Hollis had been attacked by Dunlavey's men. Back on the stretch of plain above the basin they could make out the Circle Bar buildings, lying close to the banks of the river.

It was in the late afternoon and the sun had gone down behind the Blue Peaks, though its last rays were just touching the crest of the ridge near Hollis and Nellie. He had called her attention to the sinking sun, telling her that it was time they started for the Circle Bar.

"Wait," she said; "someone is coming up the Coyote trail. I have been watching him for ten minutes."

Hollis faced the trail and watched also. In a quarter of an hour the horseman came out of Devil's Hollow. Hollis and Nellie could see him plainly as he guided his pony around the huge boulders that filled the place. Hollis smiled whimsically.

"It's the poet," he told Nellie, catching her gaze and grinning widely at her. "I sent him to Dry Bottom this noon for the mail--Potter is going to stay in town over night."

For an instant it seemed that Ace would not see them, and Hollis rose from the rock on which he had been sitting and halloed to him. He responded with a shout and urged his pony up the steep side of the slope and then along the crest until he came within a few feet of where they sat. He dismounted and came forward, grinning broadly.

"Takin' the view?" he questioned. His eyes twinkled. "Sometimes there's a heap of poetry could be got out of this county. But--" and his eyelashes flickered slightly--"a fellow's got to be in the right frame of mind to get it out. I reckon you two----"

"I suppose you got the mail?" interrupted Hollis, grimacing at him.

"I sure did," returned the poet, "one letter. I reckon the blacksmith'll be kickin' because I've been galivantin' around the country for one letter. Here it is." He pa.s.sed an envelope to Hollis, and the latter, with a quick glance at the legend in the upper left hand corner, tore it open and read. It was from Weary.

Dear boss i got cleaned out agin what did you send me a hundred dollars for you might have knowed that id make a gol darned fool of myself with so much coin i never could keep no coin no how but its all right anyway cause me an eds comin home tomorrow eds all right except bein a littel week which the doc says he git over in a littel while.

ta ta.

WEARY

P.S. i might have telegraphed but ed says it dont make no difference cause the letter will git there quick enough any way an hes afraid a telegram will scare some one. im dam glad i got a return ticket.

WEARY

After reading the letter Hollis pa.s.sed it over to Nellie, watching her, his eyes alight with satisfaction.