The Greatest Westerns of Charles Alden Seltzer. Charles Alden Seltzer

      Chapter XXIV. Campaign Guns

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      Of course Yuma had been amply punished for his part in the attack on Nellie Hazelton, but there still remained Dunlavey–who had instigated it. Hollis was aware of the uselessness of bringing a charge against Dunlavey–he had not forgotten his experience with Bill Watkins when he had attempted to have Greasy brought to justice. He believed that he would not have brought such a charge had there been any probability of the sheriff taking action. He felt that in inciting Yuma to attack Nellie, Dunlavey had also contemplated a blow at him. The man’s devilish ingenuity appalled him, but it also aroused a fierce anger in his heart that, in the absence of a powerful will, would have moved him to immediate vengeance.

      But he contemplated no immediate action. Besides the attack on Nellie Hazelton there was another score to settle with Dunlavey, and when the time came for a final accounting he told himself that he would settle both. He knew there would come such a time. From the beginning he had felt that he and the Circle Cross manager were marked by fate for a clash. He was eager for it, but content to wait until the appointed time. And he knew that the time was not far distant.

      Therefore he remained silent regarding the incident, and except to Norton and his wife, Nellie Hazelton, Ten Spot, and himself, the disappearance of Yuma remained a mystery.

      Dunlavey, perhaps, might have had his suspicions, but if so he communicated them to no one, and so as the days passed the mystery ceased to be discussed and Yuma was forgotten.

      Hollis received a letter from Weary, dated “Chicago,” announcing the safe arrival of himself and Ed Hazelton. “Town” suited him to a “T,” he wrote. But Doctor Hammond would not operate at once–he wanted time to study the symptoms of Ed’s malady. That was all. Hollis turned this letter over to Nellie, with another from Ed, addressed to her–whose contents remained a mystery to him.

      Ben Allen had returned from his visit to the small ranchers in the vicinity, had confided to Hollis that he had “mixed a little politics with business,” and then, after receiving a telegram from the Secretary of the Interior, had taken himself off to Santa Fe to confer with the governor.

      After several days he returned. He entered the Kicker office to greet Hollis, his face wreathed in smiles.

      “You’ve got ’em all stirred up, my boy!” he declared, placing his hand on Hollis’s shoulder with a resounding “smack”; “they’re goin’ to enforce the little law we’ve got and they’ve passed some new ones. Here’s a few! First and foremost, cattle stealing is to be considered felony! Penalty, from one to twenty years! Next–free water! Being as the rivers in this Territory ain’t never been sold with what land the government sharks has disposed of, any cattleman’s got the right to water wherever he wants to. The governor told me that if it’s necessary he’ll send Uncle Sam’s blue coats anywhere in the Territory to enforce that! Third: after a man’s registered his brand he can’t change it unless he applies to the district judge. Them that ain’t registered their brand ain’t entitled to no protection. I reckon there’s trouble ahead for any man which monkeys with another man’s brand!

      “Say!” Allen eyed Hollis whimsically; “that new governor’s all het up over you! Had a copy of the Kicker in front of him on his desk when he was talkin’ to me. Says you’re a scrapper from the word go, an’ that he’d back you up long as there was a blue coat anywhere in the Territory!”

      Allen’s speech was ungrammatical, but its message was one of good cheer and Hollis’s eyes brightened. The Law was coming at last! He could not help but wonder what Dunlavey’s feelings would be when he heard of it. For himself, he felt as any man must feel who, laboring at a seemingly impossible task, endless and thankless, sees in the distance the possible, the end, and the plaudits of his friends.

      Yes, he could see the end, but the end was not yet. He looked gravely at Allen.

      “Did you happen to hear when these laws become effective?” he inquired.

      “On the first day of October!” returned Allen, triumphantly.

      Hollis smiled. “And election day is the third of November,” he said. “That gives Dunlavey, Watkins and Company a month’s grace–in case you are elected sheriff.”

      Allen grinned. “They can’t do a heap in a month,” he said.

      “No,” returned Hollis, “but in most elections that have come under my observation, I have noticed that the winning candidate does not assume office for a considerable time after the election. What is the custom out here?”

      Allen grinned grimly. “Usually it’s two weeks,” he said, “but if I’m elected it will be the next day–if I have to go down to the sheriff’s office and drag Bill Watkins out by the hair!”

      “That belligerent spirit does you credit,” dryly observed Hollis. “It will afford me great pleasure to participate in the festivities. But there is another matter to be thought of–which we seem to have overlooked. Usually before an election there is a primary, or a convention, is there not?”

      “There is,” grinned Allen. “It’s to-night, and I’m ready for it!” His grin expanded to a wide, whimsical smile. “I told you that I’d been mixing a little politics with business,” he said. “Well, I’ve done so.” He got up and approached the front window of the office, sweeping a hand toward the street. “If you’ll just get up and look out here,” he said, “you’ll see that I ain’t lying. There’s some good in being an ex-office-holder–you get experience enough to tell you how to run a campaign.” He bowed to Hollis. “Now, if you’ll look close at that gang which is mixing palaver in front of the Silver Dollar you’ll mebbe notice that Lemuel Train is in it, an’ Truxton, of the Diamond Dot, Holcomb, of the Star, Yeager, of the Three Diamond, Clark, of the Circle Y, Henningson, of the Three Bar, Toban, of the T Down, an’ some more which has come in for the racket tonight. Countin’ ’em all–the punchers which have come in with the fellows I have named–there’ll be about seventy-five.

      “An’, say!” he added, suddenly confronting Hollis and grasping him by the shoulder and shaking him playfully and admiringly, “there wouldn’t a durn one of them have come over here on my account. They up an’ told me so when I asked them. Said they’d nothin’ ag’in me, but they wasn’t considerin’ votin’ at all. But since Hollis wanted me–well, they’d come over just to show you that they appreciated what you’d done for them!”

      Hollis smiled. He did not tell Allen that since the appearance of the Kicker containing the announcement that he was to be its candidate he had written every small rancher in the vicinity, requesting as a personal favor that they appear in Dry Bottom on the day of the primary; that these letters had been delivered by Ace, and that when the poet returned he had presented Hollis with a list containing the name of every rancher who had promised to come, and that several days before Hollis had known approximately how many votes Allen would receive at the primary. He did