"It all depends on how Big Bill feels," returned Norton with a grim smile. "If you've got him mad there's no telling. And there are plenty of places between here and Dry Bottom where a man might be shot from ambush. And n.o.body'd ever know who done it. I wouldn't ride the Dry Bottom trail every day. There's the old Coyote trail, that takes you past the Razor-Back and through Devil's Hollow to Little Canyon an'

along the hills to the other side."

He laughed. "There's only one thing you need to be afraid of if you take the Coyote trail, an' that's Ed Hazelton. Ed gets spells when he's plum crazy. He's Nellie Hazelton's brother--her that Dunlavey was pesterin'

when you slammed him." He laughed again, significantly. "Though if Ed knowed you was the man who took his sister's part you wouldn't need to be much scared of him--I've heard that he's got a pretty good memory for his friends--even when he's off."

Hollis had not told Norton of his experience in Devil's Hollow, nor did he tell him now. But he followed his advice about taking the Coyote trail, and the following day when he made the trip to Dry Bottom he returned that way. About half way between Dry Bottom and the Circle Bar he came upon a little adobe cabin snuggling an arroyo through which trickled a small stream of water.

It was an ideal location for a small rancher, and Hollis observed that the buildings were in order--evidently Nellie Hazelton and her brother were provident. He saw some cattle grazing on the edge of a small gra.s.s plateau which began at the slope of the arroyo through which the stream of water ran. A shout reached his ears as he sat motionless in the saddle looking about him, and he saw Ed Hazelton on the plateau among the cattle, waving a hand to him. The young man began to descend the side of the plateau, but before he had fairly started Nellie Hazelton had come out of the front door of the cabin and stood on the edge of the small porch, smiling at him.

"So you did come, after all?" was her greeting.

Hollis spurred his pony closer and sat smiling down at her. "I don't think anything could have stopped me after your invitation," he returned quickly.

"Oh!" she said. The sudden color that came into her face told of her confusion. It betrayed the fact that she knew he had come because of her. Her brother's invitation in Devil's Hollow had been merely formal; there had been another sort of invitation in her eyes as she and her brother had left him that day.

"Won't you get off your horse?" she said while he still sat motionless.

"It's quite a while before sundown and you have plenty of time to reach the Circle Bar before dark."

He had determined to discover something of the mystery that surrounded her and her brother, and so he was off his pony quickly and seating himself in a chair that she drew out of the cabin for him. By the time her brother had reached the porch Hollis was stretched comfortably out in the chair and was answering several timid questions concerning his opinion of the country and his new responsibilities.

She was glad he liked the country, she said. It was wonderful. In the five years they had been here they had enjoyed it thoroughly--that was, of course, barring the trouble they had had with Dunlavey.

Of their trouble with Dunlavey Hollis would hear much later, he told himself. At present he was more interested in discovering something about her and her brother, though he did not wish to appear inquisitive.

Therefore his voice was politely casual.

"Then you are not a Westerner?" he said.

She smiled mournfully. "No," she returned; "we--Ed and I--were raised in Illinois, near Springfield. We came out here five years ago after--after mother died." Her voice caught. "Sometimes it seems terribly lonesome out here," she added; "when I get to thinking of--of our other home.

But"--she smiled bravely through the sudden moisture that had come into her eyes--"since Ed got hurt I don't have much time to think of myself.

Poor fellow."

Hollis was silent. He had never had a sister but he could imagine how she must feel over the misfortune that had come to her brother. It must be a sacrifice for her to remain in this country, to care for a brother who must be a great burden to her at times, to fight the solitude, the hardships, to bear with patience the many inconveniences which are inevitable in a new, unsettled country. He felt a new admiration for her and a profound sympathy.

"I think that you must be a very brave young woman," he said earnestly.

"Oh!" she returned with a sudden, illuminating smile. "It isn't hard to be brave. But at times I find it hard to be patient."

"Patience is one of the cardinal virtues," declared Hollis, "but it takes bravery of a rare sort to remain in this country, surrounded with the care----"

Her fingers were suddenly over her lips warningly, and he saw Ed Hazelton nearing the porch.

"I wouldn't have him know for the world," she said rapidly. "It isn't a care to look after someone you love."

Hollis smiled grimly at the reproach in her voice and rose to greet her brother.

The latter seemed to be quite recovered from the attack he had suffered in Devil's Hollow and talked freely and intelligently of affairs in the country. Hollis found that on the whole he was a well informed young man--quiet, modest, and apparently well able to give a good account of himself in spite of his affliction. He was bitter against Dunlavey and thanked Hollis warmly for his defense of his sister.

At sundown Hollis departed, telling the Hazeltons that since he was their neighbor he would not neglect to see them occasionally. As he rode away into the dusk Nellie Hazelton stood on the porch smilingly waving her hand at him. As he threaded his way through the rapidly growing darkness he felt an unaccountable satisfaction over the fact that he had elected to remain in Union County; that henceforth his fortunes were to be linked with those of a brave young woman who had also accepted the robes of sacrifice and who was committed to war against their common enemy--Dunlavey. Curiously, during the past few days he had felt a decided change in his att.i.tude toward life. His old ambition was no longer uppermost in his mind--it had been crowded out of his existence.

In its place had been erected a new pinnacle of promise. A seat among the mighty was a worthy goal. Yet the lowly bench of sacrifice was not without its compensations.

CHAPTER VIII

CONCERNING THE "SIX-O'CLOCK"

On Friday evening previous to the Sat.u.r.day on which the _Kicker_ was to be issued for the fifth consecutive time by Hollis, Potter did not ride out to the Circle Bar. There still remained some type to be set and Potter had declared his intention of completing the work and staying overnight in town. Hollis had acquiesced and had departed for the Circle Bar alone.

When he reached Dry Bottom the following morning he found a small crowd of people in front of the _Kicker_ office. During the night someone had posted a written notice on the front door, and when Hollis dismounted from his pony there were perhaps a dozen interested citizens grouped about the door, reading the notice. There were several of the town's merchants and a number of cowboys--new arrivals and those who had remained overnight to gamble and partic.i.p.ate in the festivities that were all-night features of the dives. There were also the usual loafers, who const.i.tute an element never absent in any group of idlers in any street. All, however, gave way before Hollis and allowed him to reach the door without molestation, though in pa.s.sing he observed significant grins on several faces.

The notice was written in a bold, legible hand.

"Mr. Hollis:"--it read, the prefix under-scored--"The express leaves town this afternoon at six o'clock--goin' east. Better be on it."

Signed--"Y. Z."

Hollis read the notice and then turned and quietly surveyed his watchful, interested audience. He smiled grimly, seeing several faces which, though plainly expressing amus.e.m.e.nt, seemed quietly sympathetic.

He felt that these were wishing him success, though doubting his ability to cope with his enemies. Other faces were plainly antagonistic in expression. He looked at both for an instant and then turned again to the notice and producing a pencil printed boldly on its face the slogan he had devised:

_"We Herald the Coming of the Law! The Kicker is Here to Stay!"_

And below he indulged in this sarcasm: _"Don't hold the express on my account!"_

Signed--"KENT HOLLIS"

Leaving his audience to stare after him Hollis pushed open the door of the office and entered.

He found Potter bending over the imposing table, hard at work on one of the forms. Three other forms, locked and ready for the press, stood in a corner. Potter looked up and smiled as his chief entered.

"See the notice on the door?" he inquired.

"Some of Dunlavey's work, I suppose," returned Hollis.

"Well, yes. I suppose Dunlavey is back of it. But Yuma tacked the sign up." He smiled soberly as Hollis flashed a grin at him. "They tried hard last night to get me to drink. Of course their purpose was to get me drunk so that I wouldn't be able to get the paper out today. I am not going to tell you how hard I had to fight myself to resist the temptation to drink. But you can see for yourself that I succeeded. The _Kicker_ will be ready to go to press in an hour."

He felt Hollis's hand patting his shoulder approvingly and he continued, a little hoa.r.s.ely. "I took one drink at the Fashion last night after I got through here. Then I came back and went to sleep. I am a light sleeper and when some time after midnight I heard a sound at the door I got up and peered out of the window. I saw Yuma tacking up the notice. I suppose Dunlavey wrote it." He looked at Hollis with a whimsical expression. "I suppose you are going to take the express?" he inquired.

"Tried to get you drunk, did they?" shaking his head negatively to Potter's question, a smile on his face. "I can't understand that game,"

he continued, soberly. "Of course getting you drunk would have prevented the appearance of the paper on scheduled time. But if they wanted to do serious damage--of course I mean to the paper," he apologized with a grim smile, "why didn't they come down here--some of them--during your absence, and smash things up? That would have made the thing sure for them."

Potter laughed mirthlessly. "Of course they could have done that," he said; "it would have been easy--will be easy any time. But it wouldn't be artistic, would be coa.r.s.e in fact. Dunlavey doesn't do things that way. If they smash your stuff, destroy your plant here, ruin your type and press, and so forth, they invite sympathy in your behalf. But if they prevent the appearance of your paper without having done any damage to your plant they accomplish something--they expose you to ridicule.

And in this country ridicule is a potent weapon--even if it involves nothing more serious than a drunken printer."

Hollis shook Potter's hand in silence. He had expected violence from Dunlavey; long before this he had expected him to show his hand, to attempt some covert and damaging action. And he had been prepared to fight to get the _Kicker_ out. He had not expected subtlety from Dunlavey.

He went to his desk and sat in the chair, looking out through the window at the crowd that still lingered in front of the office. Most of the faces wore grins. Plainly they were amused, but Hollis saw that the amus.e.m.e.nt was of a grim sort. They appreciated the situation and enjoyed its humor but felt the tragedy behind it. Probably most of them were acquainted with Dunlavey's methods; some of them probably knew of the attempt that had been made to incapacitate Potter. Certainly those of them that did know had seen the failure of the attempt and were now speculating upon Dunlavey's next move. Looking out of the window Hollis felt that some of his audience must be wondering whether the editor of the _Kicker_ would pay any attention to the notice on the door.

Would he scare?