“You’re Hollis, of the Circle Bar, ain’t you?” he said when the latter had spurred his pony close to him. At Hollis’s nod he grinned ironically. “Hot!” he said, coming quickly to the universal topic of conversation; “I reckon this wouldn’t be called hot in some places–in hell, for instance. Say,” he said as he saw Hollis’s lips straighten, “to-morrow the ten days is up. Mebbe it’ll be hotter then. The damned skunk!”
Of course he referred to Dunlavey–the latter’s threat to drive all foreign cattle from the Rabbit-Ear had been carried far and wide by riders–the whole country knew of it. There had been much condemnation and some speculation, but there was nothing to be done until after the tenth day. Even then much depended upon Hollis’s attitude. Would he make war upon Dunlavey in defense of the men who had refused aid to his father in time of need?
Hollis was still of the opinion that Dunlavey would not attempt to carry out his threat. He smiled at the malevolent expression in the puncher’s eyes.
“Somehow,” he said quietly, “I have always been able to distinguish between empty boast and determination. Dunlavey has done some foolish things, no doubt, and is doing a foolish thing in defying the law, but I don’t anticipate that he will do anything quite so rash as to further antagonize the small owners.”
The puncher sat erect and laughed harshly. “You don’t?” he inquired in an over-gentle, polite voice. “Mister Hollis,” he added, as the latter looked quickly at him, “you ain’t heard nothin’ from the Circle Bar to-day, I reckon?”
Hollis’s answer was negative. The Circle Y man’s face grew suddenly serious. “You ain’t! Well, then, that’s the reason you’re talkin’ so. The last I heard from the Circle Bar was that Norton an’ some of your men had captured one of Dunlavey’s men–Greasy–rebrandin’ some Circle Bar steers an’ was gettin’ ready to string him up. I reckon mebbe you’d call that doin’ somethin’!”
Hollis straightened. He had suddenly forgotten the heat, the dust, and the problem of water.
“How long ago did you hear this?” he demanded sharply.
“’Bout an hour ago,” returned the Circle Y man. “I was rustlin’ up these strays down in the basin an’ headin’ them toward the crick when I runs plum into a man from the Three Bar outfit. He was plum excited over it. Said they’d ketched Greasy down by the Narrows sometime after noon an’—”
But the Circle Y man finished to the empty air for Hollis’s pony had leaped forward into a cloud of dust, running desperately.