Hollis had been watching Dunlavey closely. There was no fear in the man’s eyes; even the doubt and worry that had been there had disappeared and his expression was now mildly ironical, contrasting oddly with the demeanor of Watkins–who was plainly frightened–and that of Greasy–who smirked and showed his teeth like some beast at bay and in fear of death. It was evident that Dunlavey possessed the spirit of the fighter, that indomitable courage which enables a man to face any situation and still retain his presence of mind, which permits him to face death unafraid and unyielding. In spite of the enmity that had existed between them from the beginning, Hollis had always respected Dunlavey for these very qualities, and within the last few minutes that respect had grown.
Dunlavey’s eyes gleamed as he looked at Allen. “I don’t think you would try to work any bluff on me, Allen,” he said quietly. “You’ve took me by surprise, that’s a fact. But let’s get down to business. What’s your game?”
“I reckon that’s a sensible way to look at it,” returned Allen evenly. “That’s the way I expected you’d look at it when you begun to realize that I was holding some pretty good cards. There ain’t nothing personal in this; I’m out for a square deal and I’m going to get it. I want you to understand that I’m running this game to-night and I’m running it square. If I get enough votes I’m going to be the next sheriff. If I don’t get enough votes Bill Watkins’ll be it. But the votes are going to be real votes. I ain’t figuring on letting your gang pack in here and keep my friends from voting.
“I’m going to put your hat on this table. Then Norton will open the door and let one man come in. That man will vote–for whoever he pleases. Then Mr. Hollis will let him out the back door and Norton will let another man in the front. There won’t be any row. I’m telling you that you and Bill Watkins and Greasy are going to set here and watch the voting. I’m going to stand behind you with one of my guns tucked under your fifth rib. If you, or Watkins, or Greasy let out a yawp that can be construed as a signal for anyone to bust into the game, or if there’s anything started by your friends which ain’t your doing, I’m going to pump six chunks of lead into you so fast that they’ll be playing tag with one another going through. I reckon you get me. That ends the palaver.”
He arose, snatched Dunlavey’s hat from his head, placed it on the table, and walked behind Dunlavey, standing against the wall.
“Open the door!” he directed, looking at Norton.
CHAPTER XXV
HANDLING THE LAW
Norton opened the door a trifle and called “One man at a time!” There were some hoarse shouts from without–presumably from Dunlavey’s friends; a chorus of derisive laughter from Allen’s. Then the first man entered.
It was Ace. The poet stood for an instant, blinking at the light, then he grinned as his gaze rested on the occupants of the room. He was directed how to cast his ballot. He took the piece of paper that was given him by Norton, scrawled “Allen” across it with a pencil that Norton had previously placed on the table, and dropped the paper into Dunlavey’s hat. Hollis opened the rear door for him, but he halted on the threshold, looking back into the room with a broad grin.