CHAPTER XIV
THE COALITION
Perhaps there were some persons in Union County who, acquainted with thedetails of the attack on Hollis, expected to read an account of it inthe _Kicker_. If there were any such they were disappointed. Therewas nothing about the attack printed in the _Kicker_--nor didHollis talk to any stranger concerning it.
Ace's poem entitled "Woman" had gone into the paper, causing thepoet--for many days following the appearance of his composition--to lookupon his fellow punchers with a sort of condescending pity. On thesecond day after his discussion with Miss Hazelton over Ace's poemHollis returned to the Circle Bar. He had succeeded in convincing Nelliethat he had answered thoughtlessly when he had informed her that he tookno interest in women, and though she had defiantly assured him that shehad not taken offense, there had been a light in her eyes upon hisdeparture which revealed gratification over his repentance. She stoodlong on the porch after he had taken leave of her, watching him as herode slowly down the trail and disappeared around a turn. Then shesmiled regretfully, sighed, and went into the house.
Hollis's return to the Circle Bar was unostentatious and quite inkeeping with his method of doing things. Within the next few days he metseveral of the Circle Bar men and there were mutterings againstDunlavey, but Hollis discouraged action, assuring the mutterers that hisdifferences with Dunlavey were entirely personal and that he intendedcarrying on the fight alone.
His wounds mended rapidly, and within two weeks--except for the brokenwrist--he was well as ever. Meanwhile Potter had succeeded in gettingthe _Kicker_ out on time, though there had been a noticeable lackof aggressiveness in the articles. Especially was this true of thearticles bearing upon the situation in Union County. Hollis had dictatedsome of these, but even those which he had dictated had seemed to lacksomething.
Nothing had been heard of Dunlavey--it seemed that after the attack uponHollis he had withdrawn from the scene to await the latter's next move.
But Hollis was in no hurry; he had lost some of the enthusiasm that hadmarked his attitude in the beginning, but this enthusiasm had beenreplaced by determination. He was beginning to realize that in Dunlaveyhe had met a foe worthy of his most serious efforts. He had determinedthat there would be no repetition of the attack upon him, and thereforeduring his convalescence he had sent to Las Vegas for a repeating rifle,and this he carried with him on his trips to and from Dry Bottom.
Meanwhile the drought continued. The sky was cloudless, the desultorybreezes that swept the plains blighted growing things, raising littlewhirlwinds of fine, flinty alkali dust and spreading it over the face ofthe world. The storm that had caught Hollis on the Dry Bottom trail hadcovered only a comparatively small area; it had lasted only a brief timeand after its passage the country was dry as before.
Rabbit-Ear Creek of all the streams in the vicinity of Dry Bottom heldwater. From all points of the compass cattle drifted to the Rabbit-Ear,slaking their thirst and refusing to leave. Bronzed riders on droopingponies trailed them, cutting them out, trying to keep their herdsintact, but not succeeding. Confusion reigned. For miles in bothdirections Rabbit-Ear Creek became one huge, long watering trough.Temporary camps were made; chuck wagons rattled up to them, loaded withsupplies for the cowboys, and rattled back to distant ranches for more.There had been other droughts, but this one wasunexpected--unprecedented. There had always been a little watereverywhere. Now Rabbit-Ear Creek held all there was.
Only the small cattle owners suffered because of the drought. Riderstold of the presence of plenty of water in the Canadian, the Cimarron,and the Ute. Carrizo held some. In fact, nearly all the streams held bythe large ranchers seemed to contain plenty. The smaller owners, whoseherds were smaller and whose complement of punchers was necessarilylimited, had apparently been selected by Providence for ruin.
There were mutterings against the large owners, against Providence.Particularly were there mutterings against Dunlavey when word came tothe owners of the herds that if the drought was not broken within thenext ten days the Circle Cross manager would drive all foreign cattlefrom the Rabbit-Ear. He would not allow his own herds to suffer to savetheirs, he said.
On the night following the day upon which the small owners had receivedthis word from Dunlavey a number of the former waited upon Hollis. Theyfound him seated on the lower gallery of the ranchhouse talking toNorton and Potter. Lemuel Train, of the Pig-pen outfit, had beenselected as their spokesman. He stood before Hollis, a big man,diffident in manner and rough in appearance, surrounded by his fellowranchers, bronzed, bearded, serious of face. Though the sun had beendown three hours the heat was frightful and the visitors shuffled theirfeet and uncomfortably wiped the perspiration from their brows.
"Sit down," invited Hollis. He rose and stood while the men drapedthemselves on the edge of the gallery floor--all except the spokesman,Lemuel Train. The latter faced Hollis. His face was grim in the dusk.
"We've come to see what you've got to say about water," he said.
Days before Norton had told Hollis that these men who were now herdingat the Rabbit-Ear were the small ranchers who had refused to aid theelder Hollis in his fight against Dunlavey some years before. ThereforeHollis did not answer at once. When he did his voice was dry and cold.He too had heard of Dunlavey's ultimatum concerning the water.
"Before I say anything on that subject I should like to know to whom Iam talking," he said.
Train swept a ponderous hand toward his fellow visitors, pointing themout 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'svoice. Plainly, if the range boss were allowed a voice in the matter,these visitors would have now received as little encouragement as theyhad received from Dunlavey. But Hollis's smile showed that he helddifferent 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 bosomfriends," returned Hollis.
Several heads bobbed affirmatively; others sat grimly silent. Hollissmiled.
"How many of you offered to help my father when he came to you askingfor assistance in his fight against Dunlavey?"
Train fidgeted. "I reckon they wasn't much chance----" he began, andthen hesitated, looking around at his fellows.
"Of course," returned Hollis quietly, after an embarrassed pause, "therewasn't much chance for you to win then. And you had to take a big riskto 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 youmen 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 tocarry out his decision to drive your cattle from the Rabbit-Ear--orshoot them?"
"Eighteen, I reckon," returned Train, looking at the others, who noddedaffirmatively to his question.
Hollis turned to Norton. "How many men does Dunlavey employ?" hequestioned.
"Thirty," snapped Norton. "But in case he needed them he c'n get ahundred."
"Big odds," smiled Hollis. "Why should I volunteer to help you fightDunlavey? My cattle are certain of getting enough water. Why should Inot be selfish, as you men were when my father went to you forassistance?"
There was no answer. The faces that surrounded Hollis in thesemi-darkness showed plainly that their owners had given up thoughts ofassistance. Grim, hard lines came into them; two or three sneered. Ofcourse they would fight Dunlavey; there was no alternative, for theycould not stand idly by and see their cattle slain--Dunlavey could notdrive them from water, they would have to be shot. They had reckoned onsecuring help from Hollis; he held one side
of the Rabbit-Ear and withhis support they were in a position to make things very unpleasant forany of Dunlavey's men who might, from the opposite side of the river,attempt to shoot their cattle. But with Hollis against them they wouldbe powerless; with Hollis against them Dunlavey's men could swarm bothsides 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 hadnarrowed down to a point where they could depend only on their ownresources. They would not plead, yet as they silently started to fileoff the gallery there were bitter smiles on several of their faces.There were no threats; perhaps Hollis had succeeded in showing them thesimilarity between his conduct and their own in the long ago, when hisfather had gone to them for assistance. At least this was what he hadtried to show them.
Lemuel Train was the last man down the gallery. He turned as he reachedthe 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 andfaced him.
"Men," he said quietly, "you have not answered my question. I am goingto repeat it: Why should I not be selfish, as you men were when myfather went to you for assistance?"
Lemuel Train smiled ironically. "Why, I reckon it's your trick, misterman," he said; "you've got all the cards."
"Come back here, men," said Hollis. "Since none of you care to answer myquestion I will answer it myself." He stood silent while the men filedback and resumed seats on the gallery edge. Darkness had come on whilehe had been talking to the men and inside the ranchhouse Mrs. Norton hadlighted the kerosene lamp and its weak, flickering rays straggled outinto the darkness and upon Hollis's face and the faces of several of themen who sat on the edge of the gallery.
Hollis knew that he might readily become melodramatic in the few wordsthat he purposed to say to the men, and so when he began talking headopted a low, even tone, confidential, serious. He told them that thethings he had written in his salutatory in the _Kicker_, monthsbefore, had been an honest declaration of the principles in which hebelieved. This was America, he repeated; they were all Americans; theywere all entitled to that freedom of thought, speech, and movement forwhich their forefathers had fought. For one, he purposed to fight, ifnecessary, to retain his rights.
He told them that he held no ill-feeling against them on account oftheir refusal to assist his father. That was past history. But now theywere to look into the future; they were all facing ruin if they did notcombine in a common cause. So far as he was concerned their cattle mightremain at the Rabbit-Ear until the drought ended, or until the streamwent dry. And if Dunlavey fought them--well, he would be with them tothe 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 fromthe gallery, sought their horses, mounted, and rode slowly away into thedarkness. When they had gone Hollis turned to resume his chair, butfound Norton standing near him, looking at him with a curious smile.
"Shake!" said the latter. "I knowed you'd do it that way!"