The Coming of the Law

  CHAPTER IV

  AT THE CIRCLE BAR

  In the two weeks that followed his arrival at Dry Bottom, Hollis hadmuch time to meditate upon the great change that had come into his life.His conclusion that there was nothing in common between cattle raisingand journalism was not a result of an involved process of reasoning, andhad he not been endowed with a sense of humor he might have becomeembittered. Though a sacrifice be made cheerfully, there lingers alwaysits ghost to draw mental pictures of "what might have been." Holliswould have been more than human had he not felt some little regret overhis sacrifice.

  It had seemed to him, as two weeks before he had ridden away from thecourt house--sitting on the seat of the buckboard beside Neil Norton,his suitcases tucked snugly away underneath--that he was once and forall severing his connection with the big, bustling world in which he hadmoved; in whose busy scenes he had been so vitally interested. His hadbeen a big work; seated at his desk in the "city" room of his newspaperhe had many times likened himself unto an argus-eyed recording angelwhose business it was to keep in view each of the many atoms of a busymultitude and to accord to them that amount of space that theirimportance seemed to demand. He had loved his work; it had broadenedhim, had provided him with exactly the proportion of mental exerciseneeded to keep him on edge and in a position to enjoy life. He had livedin the East--really lived. Out here he would merely exist, though, heassured himself grimly, his enemies would have to pay dearly for hissacrifice.

  The picture of his journey to the Circle Bar ranch was still fresh inhis mind as he rode slowly away from Neil Norton, whom he had leftsitting in his saddle on a ridge, watching him. The long twilight hadbrought its lengthening shadows that night before Norton had struck theCircle Bar trail, and before they had traveled a mile of the ten thatlay before them night had come. Hollis had been little inclined to talkand Norton did not disturb him, but gave his attention to the horses.There had been no moon and few stars, and darkness, as under a blanket,had settled over them before they were many miles from Dry Bottom.

  The country seemed nothing more than a vast plain, broken here and thereby ridges and depressions. Occasionally a low hill loomed out of thedarkness, the shadows deepening around it; now and then the buckboardpassed through a draw, the wheels sinking hub-deep in the loose sand.Several dry arroyos crossed the trail, but with a knowledge that seemedalmost marvelous Norton cleverly avoided these pitfalls. Hollis couldnot see a foot ahead, but the location of the trail seemed to be nomystery to the range boss, for he drove the horses steadily on,hesitating for nothing.

  Once during the ride Norton broke the silence with a subdued cackle ofmirth, and at another time he laughed aloud.

  "I'd liked to have seen Big Bill when you hit him!" he observed, regretin his voice. "I reckon he might have been just a little surprised!"

  To which Hollis made no reply. At another time Norton broke the silencelong enough to inquire:

  "I reckon mebbe you wouldn't have hit him so hard if you'd knowed who hewas?"

  "I think I should have hit a little harder," returned Hollis quietly.

  "Why, hell!" declared Norton with a laugh; "I reckon you would have donejust that!"

  About ten o'clock they came in sight of some straggling posts, andNorton assured Hollis that the posts were strung with wire, forming afence which skirted one side of the Circle Bar pasture. A few minuteslater a dog barked and at Norton's call came bounding up to thebuckboard, yipping joyously. Hollis could make out his shape as hecavorted about.

  "My dog," offered the range boss. "Half wolf, the other half just dog."He chuckled over his joke. "Best dog you ever see," he boasted; "moneycouldn't buy him. Like dogs?"

  Hollis nodded and then realizing that Norton could not see him in thedarkness, voiced a quick "yes".

  In the distance Hollis saw a sudden square of light illuminate the wallof darkness into which they had been driving; a door had been opened.Evidently the dog's barking had aroused the inmates of the building, foras the buckboard drew nearer Hollis saw several figures flit out of thedoor-way. Norton drove the horses close to the building and brought themto a halt with a sonorous "whoa"! Then he turned to Hollis and spokewith a drawl: "This here building is the Circle Bar bunkhouse; them'ssome of your men."

  Hollis remarked the size of the building and Norton laughed grimly."There was a time when it wasn't any too big," he said. "Five years agoyour dad had twenty-seven men on the pay-roll. If Dunlavey an' his damnassociation hadn't showed up he'd have had them yet." He turned towardthree men who were lounging in the doorway. "Hey, you guys!" he yelled;"this here's your new boss. If you-all ain't glued there you might grabhis grips an' tote them up to the ranchhouse. Tell the missus that I'llbe along directly with the boss."

  Amusement over the Southern twang that marked Norton's speech filledHollis. He had noticed it before and it had made plain to him the reasonof Norton's unhurried movements, his slow humor, his habit of quietscrutiny.

  But he had little time for reflection. At Norton's words two men sprangforward to the buckboard and he saw his suitcases disappear into thedarkness in the direction of a light that he now saw flickering fromsome little distance. He jumped out of the buckboard and saw another manspring to the horses' heads and lead them away into the darkness. Thenhe followed Norton into the light from the open doorway. Presently hewas shaking hands with a man who stood there, whose chief articles ofraiment were overalls, boots, and a woolen shirt. Almost instantly, itseemed, two of the others had returned and Norton was introducing themas "Ace," "Lanky," and "Weary." These pseudonyms were picturesque anddescriptive, though at the time Hollis was in a state of painedincomprehension concerning them. Later he was informed that Ace had beenso named on account of having once been caught slipping a playing cardof that character into his bootleg during a game of poker.Incidentally--Hollis was told--gun-play had resulted. That Ace was stillactive proved that the other man might have profited by keeping hisknowledge to himself. Obviously, Lanky deserved his appellation--he wasa trifle over six feet tall and proportioned like a young sapling. Wearyhad been born tired--so Hollis was told by the latter's defamers;defamers, for later Hollis discovered that no man in the outfit couldshow more surprising agility on occasion than this same Weary.

  Hollis found himself inside the bunkhouse, where he was criticallyinspected by the three men--and before he left, by the fourth, whoanswered to the name of "Bud." Norton told him that these four comprisedhis outfit--Bud acting as blacksmith. Hollis remained with the men onlylong enough to announce that there would be no change; that he intendedto hang on and fight for his rights. When Norton told them that Hollishad already begun the fight by slugging Dunlavey and Yuma Ed, theenthusiasm of the four men was unbounded. They assured him profanelythat they were with him to the "finish"--whatever it might be. Afterwhich Hollis departed to the ranchhouse.

  He found Mrs. Norton to be a pleasant faced woman of twenty-seven oreight, who had--according to Norton--"bossed him for seven years."Norton grinned hugely over his wife's embarrassed protest.

  "I haven't 'bossed' him," she told Hollis, while Norton looked on withamusement, "though there have been times when he richly deserved it."There was a spirited flash in the lady's eyes as she looked at her lord.

  "I don't wish to take sides in any marital controversy," Hollis toldthem. "I don't care to parade my ignorance. However," he smiled, with awink at Norton, "most men need a boss, if for no other reason than toteach them the value of discipline."

  "There!" said Mrs. Norton with a triumphant laugh, and immediately leftthe two men and went into the kitchen.

  After partaking of a hearty meal Hollis and Norton went out on the porchfor a smoke and a talk, and it was near midnight when Hollis tumbledinto bed, distinctly pleased with the range boss and his admirable wife.He was asleep within five minutes.

  The sun was streaming into his window when he hopped out of bed the nextmorning, refreshed and eager to make a trip of inspection over hisproperty. He came down stairs light
ly, in the hope of being able to slipoutside without disturbing anybody, but upon opening the stair door hewas surprised to find the cloth on the table in the dining room alreadyspread and hot food steaming upon it. Mrs. Norton was bustling aboutfrom the kitchen to the dining room. Evidently the Nortons had beenastir for hours.

  Mrs. Norton smilingly directed him to a wash basin on a bench justoutside the door and stood in the opening a moment, watching him as hedrenched his face with the cold water. There was in her manner only thesolicitous concern of the hostess whose desire is to place a guest atease. Hollis decided that Norton had been most fortunate in his choiceof a "boss."

  "Neil has gone down into the big basin to look after the men," she toldhim from the doorway. "I don't expect him to return for some littletime. Come in to breakfast when you are ready."

  To his protest that he would wait until Norton's return beforebreakfasting she replied with a smile that her husband had alreadybreakfasted, telling him also that in this part of the country everyonerose with the sun.

  He stood on the edge of the porch for a moment after washing, drinkingin the air that came to him from the plains--a breeze laden with theclear aroma of the sage-brush moist with the dew of the night. When heentered the house Mrs. Norton was nowhere to be seen and he drew up achair and breakfasted alone.

  A little later he embarked upon a tour of inspection. All of thebuildings, with the exception of the ranchhouse, which was constructedof logs, with a gable roof and plastered interstices--were built ofadobe, low, squat structures with flat roofs. There were six ofthem--the bunkhouse, mess house, blacksmith shop, the range boss'sprivate shack (from which Norton and his wife had removed after thedeath of the elder Hollis), the stable, and one other building for thestoring of miscellaneous articles. Hollis inspected them all and was notquite convinced that they had reached the stage of dilapidationsuggested by Judge Graney.

  During his inspection Hollis had seen a patch of garden, some chickens,and down in a small pasture some cows that he supposed were kept formilking. He was leaning on the top rail of the corral fence after he hadconcluded his trip of inspection when he heard a clatter of hoofs behindhim and turned to observe Norton, just riding up to the corral gate. Therange boss wore a grin of pleasure.

  "How you findin' things?" he questioned.

  "In better shape than I expected--after listening to Judge Graney,"smiled Hollis.

  Norton looked critically at him. "Then you ain't changed your mind aboutstayin' here?" he inquired.

  "No," returned Hollis; "I believe I shall get used to it in time."

  Norton dismounted, his eyes alight with satisfaction. "That's thestuff!" he declared. He threw the reins over his pony's head and seizedHollis by an arm. "Come along with me--down to my shack," he said; "I'vegot somethin' to show you."

  Without further words he led Hollis toward a building--the one he hadoccupied previous to the death of the elder Hollis. There were threerooms in the building and in the front one were several articles offurniture and some boxes. One of these boxes Norton opened, takingtherefrom several articles of wearing apparel, consisting of a pair ofcorduroy trousers, a pair of leathern chaps, boots, spurs, two woolenshirts, a blue neckerchief, a broad felt hat, and last, with a grin ofamusement over Hollis's astonished expression, a cartridge belt to whichwas attached a holster containing a Colt .45.

  "I bought this outfit over at Santa Fe two months ago," he informedHollis, who was gravely contemplating the lay-out, "expectin' to wearthem myself some day. But when I got home I found they didn't quitefit." He surveyed Hollis with a critical eye. "I've been thinkin' eversince you come that you'd fit pretty snug in them." He raised aprotesting hand as Hollis was about to speak. "I ain't givin' them toyou," he grinned. "But you can't wear no tenderfoot clothes out here.Some day when we're together an' we've got time you can blow me toanother outfit; I won't hesitate about takin' it." He leaned over andtapped the butt of the Colt. "You ever handle one of them?" hequestioned.

  Hollis nodded. Once during a shooting tournament he had done good workwith a pistol. But Norton laughed at his nod.

  "Mebbe we do it a little different out here," he smiled. "You hop intothem duds an' we'll go out into the cottonwood yonder an' try out yourgun." He pointed through the door to a small clump of cottonwoods beyondthe bunkhouse.

  He went out and fifteen minutes later Hollis joined him, lookingthoroughly at home in his picturesque rigging. An hour later theyreturned to the corral fence, where Norton caught up his pony andanother, saddling the latter for Hollis. He commented briefly upon thenew owner's ability with the six-shooter.

  "You use your fists a little better than you use a gun," he remarkedwith his peculiar drawl, "but I reckon that on the whole you'll be ableto take care of yourself--after you've had a little practise gettin'your gun out." He laughed with a grim humor. "More men have been killedin this country on account of bein' slow on the draw than for any otherreason. Don't never monkey with it unless you intend to use it, an' thensee that you get it out middlin' rapid. That's the recipe," he advised.

  The pony that he had selected for Hollis was a slant-eyed beast, largerthan the average, with rangy limbs, black in color with a white muzzleand fetlocks. Hollis voted him a "beaut" after he had ridden him a mileor two and found that he had an easy, steady stride.

  Together they made a round of the basin, returning to the ranchhouse fordinner. Hollis was saddle weary and when Norton proposed another tripduring the afternoon he was met with the response that the new ownerpurposed enjoying the cool of the ranchhouse porch for the remainder ofthe day.

  The next morning Hollis was up with the dawn and out on the porchsplashing water over his face from the wash basin that stood outside thedoor. For a long time after washing he stood on the porch, looking outover the big basin at this new and strange world. Endless it seemed,lying before him in its solemn silence; a world of peace, of eternalsunlight, smiling skies, and infinite distance. It seemed unreal to him.Did this same planet hold the busy cities to which he had beenaccustomed? The stuffy room, with its smell of damp ink, its litter ofpapers--his room in the newspaper offices, filled with desks and theclatter of typewriters? Through whose windows came the incessant clamorthat welled up from the streets below? He laughed at the thought andturned to see Norton standing in the doorway looking at him with asmile.

  "Comparin' her with your little old East?" inquired the latter.

  Hollis confessed that he had been doing something of that sort.

  "Well," returned Norton, "there ain't any way to compare this countrywith anything else. Seems as though when the world was made the Lord hada few million miles left which he didn't know what to do with an' so hejust dumped it down out here. An' then, havin' business somewhere elseabout that time he forgot about it an' left it to get along as best itcould--which wasn't none too rapid."

  This conversation had taken place just twelve days ago, yet Norton'swords still remained fresh in Hollis's mind. Yet he did not altogetheragree with Norton. The West had impressed him far more than he cared toadmit.

  This morning, directly after breakfast Hollis and Norton had saddledtheir horses and ridden out of the basin toward the river, into asection of the country that Hollis had not yet explored. Emerging fromthe basin, they came to a long, high ridge. On its crest Norton halted.Hollis likewise drew in his pony. From here they could see a greatstretch of country, sweeping away into the basin beneath it, toward amountain range whose peaks rose barren and smooth in the white sunlight.

  "This here's 'Razor-Back' ridge," explained Norton as the ponies halted;"called that on account of bein' so unusually narrow on the top." Hepointed to some buildings which Hollis had seen but to which he hadgiven very little attention, thinking they were those of the Circle Bar."Them's the Circle Cross buildings," resumed Norton. "They're aboutthree miles from the Circle Bar ranchhouse, directly north through thatcottonwood back of the bunkhouse where you tried your gun the day afteryou come out here. Down below there--where you see them
two bigcottonwood trees--is 'Big Elk' crossin'. There's another somethin' likeit back up the crick a ways, on the other side of the ranchhouse, calledthe 'Narrows.'" He laughed grimly. "But we don't use them crossins'much--they're dead lines; generally you'll find there's a Circle Crossman or so hangin' around them--with a rifle. So it don't pay to gomonkeyin' around there unless you've got pressin' business."

  He made a grimace. "It's my opinion that a good many Circle Bar cattlehave crossed the crick in them two places--never to come back." He swepta hand up the river, indicating the sentinel like buttes that frownedabove the bed of the stream. "The crick is pretty shallow," hecontinued, "but Big Elk an' the Narrows are the only two places where aman can cross in safety--if we consider that there wouldn't be anyCircle Cross man hangin' around them two places. But there ain't noother place to cross an' so we don't go on the other side much."

  He turned to Hollis, looking at him with a quaint smile. "From here youcan see everything that amounts to anything in this section--which ain'ta heap. Of course over there are some mountains--where we was a few daysago lookin' up the boys"--he pointed to some serrated peaks that rosesomberly in the southwestern distance--"but as you saw there ain't muchto them except rocks an' lava beds. There's some hills there"--pointingto the south--"but there ain't nothin' to see in them. They look a heapbetter from here than they do when you get close to them. That's the waywith lots of things, ain't it?"

  Hollis smiled. "I like it," he said quietly, "much better than I didwhen I came." He turned to Norton with a whimsical smile. "I suppose itwill strike you as peculiar, but I've got a notion that I would like toride around a while alone. I don't mean that I don't like your company,for I do. But the notion has just struck me."

  Norton laughed indulgently. "I reckon I won't consider that you'retrying to slight me," he returned. "I know exactly how you feel; thatsort of thing comes over everybody who comes to this country--sooner orlater. Generally it's later, when a man has got used to the silence an'the bigness an' so on. But in your case it's sooner. You'll have to haveit out with yourself."

  His voice grew serious. "But don't go ridin' too far. An' keep away fromthe river trail."

  In spite of his ready acquiescence he sat for some time on his pony,watching Hollis as the latter urged his pony along the ridge. Justbefore Hollis disappeared down the slope of the ridge he turned andwaved a hand to Norton, and the latter, with a grim, admiring smile,wheeled his pony and loped it over the back trail.

  Once down the slope of the ridge Hollis urged his pony out into thelevel of the basin, through some deep saccatone grass, keeping well awayfrom the river trail as advised by the range boss.

  In spite of his serious thoughts Hollis had not been dismayed over theprospect of remaining at the Circle Bar to fight Dunlavey and his crew.He rather loved a fight; the thought of clashing with an opposing forcehad always filled him with a sensation of indefinable exultation. Hereveled in the primitive passions. He had been endowed by nature withthose mental and physical qualities that combine to produce the perfectfighter. He was six feet of brawn and muscle; not an ounce ofsuperfluous flesh encumbered him--he had been hammered and hardened intoa state of physical perfection by several years of athletic training,sensible living, and good, hard, healthy labor. Circumstances had notpermitted him to live a life of ease. The trouble between hisparents--which had always been much of a mystery to him--had forced himat a tender age to go out into the world and fight for existence. It hadtoughened him; it had trained his mind through experience; it had givenhim poise, persistence, tenacity--those rare mental qualities withoutwhich man seldom rises above mediocrity.

  Before leaving Dry Bottom to come to the Circle Bar he had telegraphedhis mother that he would be forced to remain indefinitely in the West,and the sending of this telegram had committed him irrevocably to hissacrifice. He knew that when his mother received a letter from himexplaining the nature of the work that required his presence in DryBottom she would approve his course. At least he was certain that shewould not advise surrendering.

  After riding for more than an hour he came to a shallow draw and urgedhis pony through the deep sand of its center. On the other side of thedraw the country became suddenly rocky; great boulders were strewnindiscriminately about, as though some giant hand had distributed themcarelessly, without regard to their final resting place. A lava bed,looming gray and dead under a barren rock hill, caught his attention,and he drew his pony to a halt and sat quietly in the saddle examiningit. From the lava bed his gaze went to a weird mineral shape that rosein the distance--an inverted cone that seemed perfectly balanced on itsnarrowest point. He studied this long without moving, struck with themiraculous stability of the thing; it seemed that a slight touch wouldsend it tumbling down.

  He realized that he had stumbled upon a spot that would have providedpleasure to a geological student. To him it was merely a source ofwonder and awe. Some mighty upheaval of nature had created this, and hecontinued to gaze at it, his mind full of conjecture.

  To his right rose a precipitous rock wall surmounted by a fringe ofthick shrubbery. On the left was another wall, perpendicular, flat onits top and stretching away into the distance, forming a grass plateau.Directly in front of him was a narrow canyon through which he could seea plain that stretched away into the unknown distance.

  It was a magnificent country; he did not now regret his decision toremain here. He pulled out his watch, noting that its hands pointed toten, and realized that he must be off if he expected to reach the CircleBar by noon.

  He sat erect in the saddle, about to wheel his pony toward the drawthrough which he had entered, when he heard a sharp sound. Startled, heglanced swiftly to his right, searching the immediate vicinity for theagency which had created sound in this vast silence. He stiffened slowlyin the saddle, his face gradually paling. Not over a hundred feet fromhim, partly concealed by a big boulder, stood a man with a rifle, themuzzle of the weapon trained fairly on him.