“But only a man who felt strongly could have written it,” suggested the Judge.
“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 on the first page of the Kicker which interested me greatly,” he said. “It concerns the six o’clock train–going east. Do you happen to know whether the editor of the Kicker is going to use the express?”
Hollis smiled appreciatively. “The editor of the Kicker is going to use the express,” he admitted, “though not in the manner some people are wishing. The usual number of copies of the Kicker are going to ride on the express, as are also some very forceful letters to the President of the United States and the Secretary of the Interior.”
“Good!” said the Judge. He looked critically at Hollis. “I know that you are going to remain in Dry Bottom,” he said slowly; “I have never doubted your courage. But I want to warn you to be careful. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that the notice which you found on the door of the Kicker office this morning is a joke. They don’t joke like that out here. Of course I know that you are not afraid and that you won’t run. But be careful–there are men out here who would snuff out a human life as quickly as they would the flame of a candle, and with as little fear of the consequences. I shouldn’t like to hear of you using your revolver, but if you do have occasion to use it, use it fast and make a good job of it.”
“I don’t like to use a gun,” returned Hollis gravely, “but all the same I shall bear your advice in mind.” An expression of slight disgust swept over his face. “I don’t see why men out here don’t exhibit a little more courage,” he said. “They all ‘pack’ a gun, as Norton says, and all are apparently yearning to use one. I don’t see what satisfaction there could be in shooting a man with whom you have had trouble; it strikes me as 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 so artistic as shooting, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that your antagonist realizes and appreciates his punishment.”
Judge Graney’s gaze rested on the muscular frame of the young man. “I suppose if all men were built like you there would be less shooting done. But unfortunately nature has seen fit to use different molds in making her men. Not every man has the strength or science to use his fists, nor the courage. But there is one thing that you will do well to remember. When you slug a man who carries a gun you only beat him temporarily; usually he will wait his chance and use his gun when you least expect him.”