The Coming of the Law

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER IX

  HOW A BAD MAN LEFT THE "KICKER" OFFICE

  It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when the _Kicker_appeared on Dry Bottom's street. At about five minutes after one, Potterleft the front of the office and walked to the rear room where he haltedat the imposing stone. There he proceeded to "take down" the four forms.This done he calmly began distributing type.

  While Potter worked Hollis sat very quietly at his desk in the frontoffice, his arms folded, one hand supporting his chin, his lips formingstraight lines, his eyes narrowed with a meditative expression.Occasionally Potter glanced furtively at him, his eyes filled withmingled expressions of sympathy, admiration, and concern.

  Potter appreciated his chief's position. It meant something for a man ofHollis's years and training to bury himself in this desolate sink-holeof iniquity; to elect to carry on an unequal war with interests thatcontrolled the law machinery of the county and Territory--whose powerextended to Washington. No doubt the young man was even now broodingover the future, planning his fight, pessimistically considering hischances of success. Potter's sympathy grew. He thought of approachinghis chief with a word of encouragement. But while he hesitated, mentallydebating the propriety of such an action, Hollis turned quickly andlooked fairly at him, his forehead perplexed.

  "Potter," he remarked, "I suppose there isn't a good brain specialist inthis section of the country?"

  "Why--why----" began Potter. Then he stopped and looked at his chief inwordless astonishment. His sympathy had been wasted.

  "No," laughed Hollis, divining the cause of the compositor'sastonishment, "personally I have no use for a brain specialist. I wasthinking of some other person."

  "Not me?" grinned Potter from behind his type case. He flushed a littleat the thought of how near he had come to offering encouragement to aman who had not been in need of it, who, evidently, had not beenthinking of the big fight at all. "Perhaps I need one," he added, eyeingHollis whimsically; "a moment ago I thought you were in the dumps onaccount of the situation here--you seemed rather disturbed. It surprisedme considerably to find that you had not been thinking of Dunlavey atall."

  "No," admitted Hollis gravely, "I was not thinking of Dunlavey. I waswondering if something couldn't be done for Ed Hazelton."

  "Something ought to be done for him," declared Potter earnestly. "I havewatched that young man closely and I am convinced that with proper careand treatment he would recover fully. But I never heard of a specialistin this section--none, in fact, nearer than Chicago. And I've forgottenhis name."

  "It is Hammond," supplied Hollis. "I've been thinking of him. I knew hisson in college. I am going to write to him."

  He turned to his desk and took up a pen, while Potter resumed his workof distributing type.

  About half an hour later Jiggs Lenehan strolled into the office wearinga huge grin on his face. "'Pears like everybody in town wants to readthe _Kicker_ to-day," he said with a joyous cackle. "Never had somuch fun sellin' them. Gimme some more," he added breathlessly; "they'sa gang down to the station howlin' for them. Say," he yelled at Hollisas he went out of the door with a big bundle of _Kickers_ under hisarm, "you're cert'nly some editor man!" He grinned admiringly and widelyas he disappeared.

  Hollis finished his letter to Hammond and then leaned back in his chair.For half an hour he sat there, looking gravely out into the street andthen, answering a sudden impulse, he rose and strode to the door.

  "Going down to the court house," he informed Potter.

  He found Judge Graney in his room, seated at the big table, a copy ofthe _Kicker_ spread out in front of him. At his appearance theJudge pushed back his chair and regarded him with an approving smile.

  "Well, Hollis," he said, "I see Dunlavey has played the first card."

  "He hasn't taken the first trick," was the young man's quick reply.

  "Fortunately not," laughed the judge. He placed a finger on a column inthe _Kicker_. "This article about the Cattlemen's Association is ahummer--if I may be allowed the phrase. A straight, manly citation ofthe facts. It ought to win friends for you."

  "I've merely stated the truth," returned Hollis, "and if the articleseems good it is merely because it defends a principle whose virtue isperfectly obvious."

  "But only a man who felt strongly could have written it," suggested theJudge.

  "Perhaps. I admit feeling a deep interest in the question of cattle."

  "Your ambition?" slyly insinuated the Judge.

  "Is temporarily in abeyance--perhaps permanently."

  "Then your original decision about remaining here has been--well,strengthened?"

  Hollis nodded. The Judge grinned mysteriously. "There is an article onthe first page of the _Kicker_ which interested me greatly," hesaid. "It concerns the six o'clock train--going east. Do you happen toknow whether the editor of the _Kicker_ is going to use theexpress?"

  Hollis smiled appreciatively. "The editor of the _Kicker_ is goingto use the express," he admitted, "though not in the manner some peopleare wishing. The usual number of copies of the _Kicker_ are goingto ride on the express, as are also some very forceful letters to thePresident of the United States and the Secretary of the Interior."

  "Good!" said the Judge. He looked critically at Hollis. "I know that youare going to remain in Dry Bottom," he said slowly; "I have neverdoubted your courage. But I want to warn you to be careful. Don't makethe mistake of thinking that the notice which you found on the door ofthe _Kicker_ office this morning is a joke. They don't joke likethat out here. Of course I know that you are not afraid and that youwon't run. But be careful--there are men out here who would snuff out ahuman life as quickly as they would the flame of a candle, and with aslittle fear of the consequences. I shouldn't like to hear of you usingyour revolver, but if you do have occasion to use it, use it fast andmake a good job of it."

  "I don't like to use a gun," returned Hollis gravely, "but all the sameI shall bear your advice in mind." An expression of slight disgust sweptover his face. "I don't see why men out here don't exhibit a little morecourage," he said. "They all 'pack' a gun, as Norton says, and all areapparently yearning to use one. I don't see what satisfaction therecould be in shooting a man with whom you have had trouble; it strikes meas being a trifle cowardly." He laughed grimly. "For my part," he added,"I can get more satisfaction out of slugging a man. Perhaps it isn't soartistic as shooting, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that yourantagonist realizes and appreciates his punishment."

  Judge Graney's gaze rested on the muscular frame of the young man. "Isuppose if all men were built like you there would be less shootingdone. But unfortunately nature has seen fit to use different molds inmaking her men. Not every man has the strength or science to use hisfists, nor the courage. But there is one thing that you will do well toremember. When you slug a man who carries a gun you only beat himtemporarily; usually he will wait his chance and use his gun when youleast expect him."

  "I suppose you refer to Yuma Ed and Dunlavey?" suggested Hollis.

  "Well, no, not Dunlavey. I have never heard of Dunlavey shootinganybody; he plays a finer game. But Yuma Ed, Greasy, Ten Spot, and somemore who belong to the Dunlavey crowd are professional gun-men and donot hesitate to shoot. The chances are that Dunlavey will try to squareaccounts with you in some other manner, but I would be careful ofYuma--a blow in the face never sets well on a man of that character."

  An hour later, when Hollis sat at his desk in the _Kicker_ office,Judge Graney's words were recalled to him. He was thinking of hisconversation with the Judge when Jiggs Lenehan burst into the office,breathless, his face pale and his eyes swimming with news. He wastrembling With excitement.

  "Ten Spot is comin' down here to put you out of business!" he blurtedout when he could get his breath. "I was in the Fashion an' I heard himan' Yuma talkin' about you. Ten Spot is comin' here at six o'clock!"

  Hollis turned slowly in his chair and faced the boy. His cheeks whiteneda little. Judge Graney had been right. Holli
s had rather expected atsome time or other he would have to have it out with Yuma, but he hadexpected he would have to deal with Yuma himself. He smiled a littlegrimly. It made very little difference whether he fought Yuma or someother man; when he had elected to remain in Dry Bottom he had realizedthat he must fight somebody--everybody in the Dunlavey crew. He lookedat his watch and saw that the hands pointed to four. Therefore he hadtwo hours to prepare for Ten Spot's coming. He smiled at the boy, lookedback into the composing room and saw that Potter had ceased his laborsand was leaning on a type case, watching him soberly. He grinned broadlyat Potter and turned to Jiggs.

  "How many _Kickers_ did you sell?"

  "Two hundred an' ten," returned the latter; "everybody bought them." Hetook a step forward; his hands clenching with the excitement that stillpossessed him. "I told you Ten Spot was comin' down here to kill you!"he said hoarsely and insistently. "Didn't you hear me?"

  "I heard you," smiled Hollis, "and I understand perfectly. But I don'tthink we need to get excited over it. Just how much money did youreceive for the two hundred and ten papers?"

  "Six dollars an' two bits," responded the boy, regarding Holliswonderingly.

  "It is yours," Hollis informed him; "there was to be no charge for the_Kicker_ to-day."

  The boy grinned with pleasure. "Don't you want none of it?" he inquired.

  "It is yours," repeated Hollis. He reached out and grasped the boy bythe arm, drawing him close. "Now tell me what you heard at the Fashion,"he said.

  Rapidly, but with rather less excitement in his manner than he hadexhibited on his entrance, the boy related in detail the conversation hehad overheard at the Fashion. When he had finished Hollis patted himapprovingly on the back.

  "The official circulation manager of the _Kicker_ has made good,"he said with a smile. "Now go home and take a good rest and be ready todeliver the _Kicker_ next Saturday."

  The boy backed away and stood looking at Hollis in surprise. "Why!" hesaid in an awed voice, "you ain't none scared a-tall!"

  "I certainly am scared," laughed Hollis; "scared that Ten Spot willchange his mind before six o'clock. Do you think he will?"

  "No!" emphatically declared the boy. "I don't reckon that Ten Spot willchange his mind a-tall. He'll sure come down here to shoot you!"

  "That relieves me," returned Hollis dryly. "Now you go home. But," hewarned, "don't tell anyone that I am scared."

  For an instant the boy looked at Hollis critically, searching his facewith all a boy's unerring judgment for signs which would tell ofinsincerity. Seeing none, he deliberately stretched a hand out toHollis, his lips wreathing into an approving grin.

  "Durned if you ain't the stuff!" he declared. "I'm just bettin' that TenSpot ain't scarin' you none!" Then he backed out of the door and stillgrinning, disappeared.

  After Jiggs had gone Hollis turned and smiled at Potter. "I suppose youknow this man Ten Spot," he said. "Will he come?"

  "He will come," returned Potter. His face was pale and his lips quivereda little as he continued: "Ten Spot is the worst of Dunlavey's set," hesaid; "a dangerous, reckless taker of human life. He is quick on thetrigger and a dead shot. He is called Ten Spot because of the fact thatonce, with a gun in each hand, he shot all the spots from a ten ofhearts at ten paces."

  Hollis sat silent, thoughtfully stroking his chin. Potter smiledadmiringly.

  "I know that you don't like to run," he said; "you aren't that kind. Butyou haven't a chance with Ten Spot--unfortunately you haven't had muchexperience with a six-shooter." Potter's hands shook as he tried toresume work at the type case. "I didn't think they would have nerveenough for that game," he added, advancing again toward Hollis. "Irather thought they would try some other plan--something not quite soraw. But it seems they have nerve enough for anything. Hollis" heconcluded dejectedly, "you've got to get out of town before six o'clockor Ten Spot will kill you!

  "You've got plenty of time," he resumed as Hollis kept silent; "it'sonly a little after four. You can get on your horse and be almost at theCircle Bar at six. No one can blame you for not staying--everybody knowsthat you can't handle a gun fast enough to match Ten Spot. Maybe if youdo light out and don't show up in town for a week or so this thing willblow over."

  "Thank you very much for that advice, Potter," said Hollis slowly. "Iappreciate the fact that you are thinking of my safety. But of coursethere is another side to the situation. You of course realize that if Irun now I am through here--no one would ever take me seriously after ithad been discovered that I had been run out of town by Ten Spot."

  "That's a fact," admitted Potter. "But of course----"

  "I think that is settled," interrupted Hollis. "You can't change thesituation by argument. I've got to face it and face it alone. I've gotto stay here until Ten Spot comes. If I can't beat him at his game hewins and you can telegraph East to my people." He rose and walked to thewindow, his back to the printer.

  "You can knock off for to-day, Potter. Jump right on your pony and getout to Circle Bar. I wouldn't say anything to Norton or anyone untilafter nine to-night and then if I don't show up at the ranch you willknow that Ten Spot has got me."

  He stood at the window while Potter slowly drew off his apron, carefullyfolded it and tucked it into a corner. He moved very deliberately, asthough reluctant to leave his chief. Had Hollis shown the slightest signof weakening Potter would have stayed. But watching closely he saw nosign of weakness in the impassive face of his chief, and so, after hehad made his preparations for departure, he drew a deep breath ofresignation and walked slowly to the back door, where his pony washitched. He halted at the threshold, looking back at his chief.

  "Well, good-bye then," he said.

  Hollis did not turn. "Good-bye," he answered.

  Potter took one step outward, hesitated, and then again faced the frontof the office.

  "Damn it, Hollis," he said hoarsely, "don't wait for Ten Spot to startanything; when you see him coming in the door bore him. You've got aright to; that's the law in this country. When a man gives you notice toleave town you've got a right to shoot him on sight!"

  For a moment he stood, awaiting an answer. None came. Potter sighed andstepped out through the door, leaving his chief alone.

  * * * * *

  At one minute to six Hollis pulled out his watch. He sighed, replacedthe time-piece, and leaned back in his chair. A glance out through thewindow showed him that the street was deserted except for here and therea cow pony drooping over one of the hitching rails and a wagon or twostanding in front of a store. The sun was coming slantwise over theroofs; Hollis saw that the strip of shade in front of the _Kicker_building had grown to wide proportions. He looked at his watch again. Itwas one minute after six--and still there were no signs of Ten Spot.

  A derisive grin appeared on Hollis's face. Perhaps Ten Spot hadreconsidered. He decided that he would wait until ten minutes after six;that would give Ten Spot a decent margin of time for delay.

  And then there was a sudden movement and a man stood just inside theoffice door, a heavy revolver in his right hand, its muzzle menacingHollis. The man was tall and angular, apparently about thirty years old,with thin, cruel lips and insolent, shifty eyes.

  "'Nds up!" he said sharply, swinging the revolver to a threateningpoise. "It's six o'clock, you tenderfoot ---- ---- ---- ----!"

  This was the vile epithet that had been applied to Hollis by Yuma Ed,which had been the direct cause of Yuma's downfall the day of Hollis'sarrival in Dry Bottom. Hollis's eyes flashed, but the man was severalfeet from him and out of reach of his fists. Had Hollis been standing hewould have had no chance to reach the man before the latter could havemade use of his weapon. Therefore Hollis remained motionless in hischair, catching the man's gaze and holding it steadily with unwavering,narrowed eyes.

  Though he had waited for the coming of Ten Spot, he had formulated noplan of action; he had felt that somehow he would come out of the clashwith him without injury. He still
thought so. In spite of his danger hefelt that some chance of escape would be offered him. Grimly confidentof this he smiled at the man, though still holding his gaze, determined,if he saw the faintest flicker of decision in his eyes, to duck andtackle him regardless of consequences.

  "I suppose you are Ten Spot?" he said slowly. He was surprised at thesteadiness of his voice.

  The man grinned, his eyes alert, shifty, filled with a chilling menace."You've got her right, tenderfoot," he said; "'Ten Spot's' m' handle,an' if you're a-feelin' like criticizin' of her do her some rapid beforeI starts dealin' out the lead which is in my pritty."

  Just how one man could be so entirely remorseless as to shoot anotherwhen that other man was looking straight into his eyes Hollis could notunderstand. He could readily realize how a man could kill when provokedto anger, or when brooding over an injury. But he had done nothing toTen Spot--did not even know him--had never seen him before, and how TenSpot could deliberately shoot him--without provocation--wasincomprehensible. He was convinced that in order to shoot, Ten Spot mustwork himself into an artificial rage, and he believed that the vileepithet which Ten Spot had applied to him immediately upon his entrancemust be part of his scheme. He was convinced that had he shown theslightest resentment over the application of the epithet Ten Spot wouldhave shot him down at once. Therefore he resolved to give the man noopportunity to work himself into a rage. He smiled again as Ten Spotconcluded and carelessly twisted himself about in his chair until he wasin a position to make a quick spring.

  "'Ten Spot' is a picturesque name," he remarked quietly, not removinghis gaze from Ten Spot's eyes for the slightest fraction of a second; "Ihave no criticism to make. I have always made it a point to refrain fromcriticizing my visitors. At least I do not recollect ever havingcriticized a visitor who carried a gun," he concluded with a smile.

  Ten Spot's lips curled sarcastically. Apparently he would not swerve inhis determination to provoke trouble.

  "Hell," he said truculently, "that there palaver makes me sick. I reckonyou're too damn white livered to criticize a man that's lookin' at you.There ain't no tenderfoot (here he applied the unprintable epithetagain) got nerve enough to criticize nothin'!"

  Hollis slowly raised his hands and placed them on the arms of his chair,apparently to steady himself, but in reality to be ready to projecthimself out of the chair in case he could discern any indication ofaction on Ten Spot's part.

  "Ten Spot," he said in a low, even, well controlled voice, conciliatory,but filled with a manliness which no man could mistake, "at four o'clockthis afternoon I heard that you and Yuma Ed were framing up your presentvisit. I am not telling who gave me the information," he added as he sawTen Spot's eyes brighten, "but that is what happened. So you see I knowwhat you have come for. You have come to kill me. Is that correct?"

  Ten Spot's eyes narrowed--into them had come an appraising, speculativeglint. He nodded. "You've got her right," he admitted gruffly. "But ifyou knowed why didn't you slope?" He looked at Hollis with a half sneer,as though unable to decide whether Hollis was a brave man or merely afool.

  Hollis saw the indecision in Ten Spot's eyes and his own brightened. Atlast he had planned a form of action and he cooly estimated the distancebetween himself and Ten Spot. While Hollis had been speaking Ten Spothad taken a step forward and he was now not over four or five feetdistant. Into Ten Spot's eyes had come an amused, disdainful gleam;Hollis's quiet, argumentative attitude had disarmed him. This wasexactly what Hollis had been waiting for.

  Ten Spot seemed almost to have forgotten his weapon; it had sagged, themuzzle pointing downward--the man's mind had become temporarily divertedfrom his purpose. When he saw Hollis move suddenly forward he rememberedhis gun and tried to swing its muzzle upward, but it was too late.Hollis had lunged forward, his left hand closing on Ten Spot's rightwrist, his right fist reaching Ten Spot's jaw in a full, sweeping,crashing uppercut.

  The would-be killer did not have even time enough to pull the trigger ofhis six-shooter. It fell from his hand and thudded dully to the floor ashis knees doubled under him and he collapsed in an inert, motionlessheap near the door.

  With a grim smile on his face Hollis picked up Ten Spot's weapon andplaced it on the desk. For an instant he stood at the window, lookingout into the street. Down near the Fashion he saw some men--Yuma Edamong them. No doubt they were waiting the sound of the pistol shotwhich would tell them that Ten Spot had disposed of Hollis. Hollisgrinned widely--Yuma and his gang were due for a surprise. For perhaps aminute Hollis stood beside the desk, watching Ten Spot. Then when thelatter's hands began to twitch and a trace of color appeared in hisface, Hollis pulled out his own revolver and approached him, standingwithin a few feet of him and looking down at him.

  There was no mark on Ten Spot's jaw to show where Hollis's blow hadlanded, for his fist had struck flush on the point, its force directedupward. Ten Spot's mouth had been open at the instant and the snappingof his teeth from the impact of the blow no doubt had much to do withhis long period of unconsciousness.

  He stirred presently and then with an effort sat up and looked at hisconqueror with a glance of puzzled wonderment. Seeing Hollis's weaponand his own on the desk, the light of past events seemed to filter intohis bewildered brain. He grinned owlishly, felt of his jaw and thenbowed his head, a flush of shame overspreading his face.

  "Herd-rode!" he said dismally. "Herd-rode, an' by a tenderfoot! Oh,Lordy!" He suddenly looked up at Hollis, his eyes flashing with rage anddefiance.

  "Damn your hide, why don't you shoot?" he demanded. He placed his hands,palm down, on the floor, preparatory to rising, but ceased his effortswhen he heard Hollis's voice, coldly humorous:

  "I shall shoot you just the instant you get to your feet. I rather thinkthat I am running things here now."

  Ten Spot sagged back and looked up at him. "Why I reckon you are," hesaid. No method of action having suggested itself to him, he continuedto sit, watching Hollis narrowly.

  The latter retreated to his chair and dropped into it, movingdeliberately. When he spoke his voice was cold and metallic.

  "When you first came into the office," he said, "you applied a vileepithet to me. Once after that you did it again. You have asked me why Idon't shoot you. If you really want me to shoot you you can keep yourmouth closed for just one minute. If you want to continue to live youcan tell me that you didn't mean a word of what you said on those twooccasions. It's up to you." He sat silent, looking steadily at Ten Spot.

  The latter fidgeted, shame again reddening his cheeks. "Why," he saidfinally, "I reckon she don't go, tenderfoot. You see, she's only a nomade ploom which we uses when we wants to rile somebody. I cert'nly didn'tmean nothin' by it."

  "Thanks," drawled Hollis dryly; "I'll call that sufficient. But youcertainly did 'rile' me some."

  "I reckon I must have done just that," grinned Ten Spot ruefully."You're shorely some she-wolf with them there claws of your'n. An' Idone laffed at Dunlavey an' Yuma after you'd clawed them." His facesobered, his eyes suddenly filling with an expression of defiantresignation.

  "I reckon when you're done triflin' with me you c'n start to pumpin'your lead," he said. "There ain't no use of prolongin' the agony." Helooked steadily at Hollis, his eyes filling with decision as he againplaced his hands beside him on the floor to rise.

  "You c'n open the ball when you get damn good an' ready," he sneered,"but I'm gettin' up right now. I ain't goin' to die off my pins like adamn coyote!"

  He rose quickly, plainly expecting to be shot down the moment he reachedhis feet. When he discovered that Hollis evidently intended to delay thefatal moment he stiffened, his lips twitching queerly.

  "Ten Spot," said Hollis quietly, "by apologizing for what you said whenyou came in you have shown that there is a great deal of the man left inyou despite your bad habits and associations. I am going to show youthat I think there is enough of the man left in you to trust you withyour gun."

  He turned abruptly to the desk and took up Ten S
pot's weapon, holding itby the muzzle and presenting it to the latter. Ten Spot looked from theweapon to Hollis and back again to the weapon, blank amazement picturedon his face. Then he reached out mechanically, taking the weapon andholding it in his hands, turning it over and over as though halfinclined to believe that it was not a revolver at all.

  "Chuck full of cattridges, too!" he exclaimed in amazement, as heexamined the chambers.

  "Why, hell----" He crouched and deftly swung the six-shooter around, thebutt in his hand, his finger resting on the trigger. In this position helooked at Hollis.

  The latter had not moved, but his own weapon was in his right hand, itsmuzzle covering Ten Spot, and when the latter swung his weapon up Hollissmiled grimly at him.

  "Using it?" he questioned.

  For an instant it seemed that Ten Spot would. An exultant, designingexpression came into his eyes, he grinned, his teeth showing tigerishly.Then suddenly he snapped himself erect and with a single, dexterousmovement holstered the weapon. Then his right hand came suddenly outtoward Hollis.

  "Shake!" he said. "By ----, you're white!"

  Hollis smiled as he returned the hearty handclasp.

  "You're cert'nly plum grit," assured Ten Spot as he released Hollis'shand and stepped back the better to look at the latter. "But I reckonyou're some damn fool too. How did you know that I wouldn't turn youinto a colander when you give me back my gun?"

  "I didn't know," smiled Hollis. "I just took a chance. You see," headded, "it was this way. I never intended to shoot you. That sort ofthing isn't in my line and I don't intend to shoot anyone if there isany way out of it. But I certainly wasn't going to allow you to shootme." He smiled oddly. "So I watched my chance and slugged you. Then whenI was certain that you weren't dangerous any more I had to face anotherproblem. If I had turned you loose after taking your gun what would youhave done?"

  "I'd have gone out an' rustled another gun an' come back here an'salivated you."

  "That's just what you would have done," smiled Hollis. "I intend to stayin this country, Ten Spot, and if I had turned you loose without anunderstanding you would have shot me at the first opportunity. As itstands now you owe me-----"

  "As it stands now," interrupted Ten Spot, a queer expression on hisface, "I'm done shootin' as far as you're concerned." He walked to thedoor, hesitated on the threshold and looked back. "Mister man," he saidslowly, "mebbe you won't lick Big Bill in this here little mix-up, butI'm telling you that you're goin' to give him a damn good run for hismoney! So-long."

  He stepped down and disappeared. For a moment Hollis looked after him,and then he sat down at the desk, his face softening into a satisfiedsmile. It was something to receive a tribute from a man like Ten Spot.