CHAPTER II
THE RULE OF CATTLE
The courthouse was a low, one-story redbrick building, sitting well backfrom the street. It was evidently newly built, for an accumulation ofdebris, left by the workmen, still littered the ground in the vicinity.A board walk led from the street to the wide, arched entrance. From thesteps one could look down the street at the station and the otherbuildings squatting in the sunlight, dingy with the dust of many drydays. Except for the cowponies and the buckboard and the prairieschooner there was a total absence of life or movement, offering astriking contrast to the bustling cities to which the young man had beenaccustomed.
He walked rapidly down the board walk, entered the courthouse, andpaused before a door upon which appeared the legend: "United StatesDistrict Court. J. Blackstone Graney." The young man set his suit casesdown, mopped his forehead with his handkerchief, making a wry face atthe dust that appeared on the linen after his use of it, and thenknocked lightly, but firmly, on the door. A voice inside immediatelyadmonished him to "come in." The young man smiled with satisfaction,turned the knob and opened the door, standing on the threshold. A manseated at one of the windows of the room was gazing steadily out at thevast, dry, sun-scorched country. He turned at the young man's entranceand got slowly to his feet, apparently waiting for the visitor to speak.He was a short man, not heavily, but stockily built, giving a clearimpression of stolidity. Yet there was a certain gleam in his eyes thatgave the lie to this impression, a gleam that warned of an active,analytical mind. Judicial dignity lurked all over him.
The young man bowed respectfully. "Are you Judge Graney?" he questioned.
The judge nodded and the young man smiled slightly. "I am Kent Hollis,"he said.
The judge had been approaching a big table that stood in the center ofthe room and at the young man's words he took a second glance at him,but did not hesitate in his walk toward the table. However, he smiledwhen he reached it, sinking into a chair and motioning the young man toanother.
"I have been expecting you," he said after he had become seated. "Take achair." He waited until the young man had drawn a chair opposite him andthen he leaned over the table and stretched out his hand in greeting."I'm glad to see you," he continued cordially. He held the young man'shand for an instant, peering steadily into the latter's unwavering eyes,apparently making a mental estimate of him. Then he dropped the hand andsat back, a half smile on his face. "You look like your father," hesaid.
The young man's face clouded. "Poor dad," he said slowly.
For a moment there was a silence; the judge studied the young man'sface. Something that he saw in it must have pleased him, for he smiled,becoming serious instantly.
"I am sorry you could not get here in time," he said. "We buried yourfather yesterday."
"I couldn't make it," returned the young man regretfully. "I should haveliked to see him before he died. Where did you bury him?"
"We took him out to his ranch--the Circle Bar," returned the judge,"where he said he wanted to be buried when he died. You'll find that theCircle Bar boys have done their best for him--which was little enough.Poor fellow, he deserved something better." He looked keenly at theyoung man.
Lines of pain came into the latter's face; he bowed his head, nodding atthe Judge's words.
"I have always thought that it was his own fault," he said gently. "Itmight have been different." He looked slowly up at the judge, his facereddening with embarrassment. "Of course you know something of hislife," he said. "You were his friend--he wrote me a while back, tellingme that. I don't pretend to know what came between him and mother," hecontinued; "mother would never tell and father never mentioned it in hisletters. I have thought it was drink," he added, watching the judge'sface closely. He caught the latter's slight nod and his lipsstraightened. "Yes, it must have been drink," he continued; "I haveinferred that from what mother has hinted now and then. But----" and awistful gleam came into his eyes--"I have hoped that it would not bedrink that would cause his----"
He caught the judge's slow, grave nod and he broke off abruptly, hiseyes filling with an expression of resignation. "Well," he said, "it isended, no matter what did it." He shoved back his chair. "I thank youfor what you did for him," he added, rising; "I assure you that if it ispossible for me to repay----"
"Sit down," said the judge, waving a hand to the young man's chair. "Nothanks are due me. I did only what any friend would do for another. Ihave arranged for you to go out to the Circle Bar," he informed Hollisas the latter hesitated over resuming his chair. "Neil Norton, yourrange boss, is to be here at six o'clock with the buckboard." Heconsulted his watch. "He ought to be here in half an hour--if he is ontime. Meantime there are some things I would like to say to you."
Hollis smiled. "Fire away," he directed.
The judge leaned his elbows on the table and narrowed his eyes atHollis. "Don't think my questions impertinent," he said gravely, "for Iassure you that nothing is further from my mind than a desire to pryinto your affairs. But I take it you will need some advice--which, ofcourse, you may disregard if you wish. I suppose you don't make a secretof your age?"
"No," was the instant reply, given with a grin, "I am twenty-six."
The judge smiled dryly. "We have great ambitions at twenty-six," hesaid. "I remember that at twenty-six I was rather determined on makingthe Supreme bench. You can see for yourself how far I missed it. I donot say that we never realize our ambitions," he added quickly as he sawa flash light up the young man's eyes; "I merely wish to show that in mycase they were rather extravagant." He grimaced, continuing with asmile: "You are a college man, of course--I can see that."
Hollis nodded. The judge continued, with an admiring glance at the youngman's muscular frame and broad shoulders.
"Went in for athletics--football, and such?" he said. "Well," he added,catching the young man's nod, "it didn't hurt you a particle--it doesn'thurt anybody. Rather prepares a man for hard knocks--which he is sure toget sooner or later. If you have decided to live in this country youmust expect hard knocks. And I presume you are going to live here?"
"That depends." returned Hollis. "If father has left his affairs in suchshape that it is necessary for me to stay here and straighten them out,why of course I shall stay. Otherwise----" He hesitated and laughedquietly, continuing: "Well, I also have an ambition, and if I amcompelled to remain here it will have to be sacrificed. It is a ratherhumble ambition compared to yours," he laughed. "It is journalism," hecontinued, suddenly serious; "I want to own a newspaper. I am cityeditor now and in a few years----" He laughed. "I am not going toprophesy, but I have been working hard."
The judge's eyelashes flickered, but his face remained grave. "I amafraid that you will have to remain here. That is"--he added dryly--"ifyou expect to realize anything from the property."
"I expect there can't be much property," observed Hollis.
The judge smiled. "A thousand acres of good grass land, some buildings,and"--here the judge's eyes gleamed and he drawled his words--"anewspaper."
Hollis sat erect. "A newspaper!" he gasped. "A newspaper in thiscountry? Why, man, a newspaper----"
The judge laughed. "So you will not have to go back East in order to beable to realize your ambition--you can own a newspaper here--yourfather's newspaper--the Dry Bottom _Kicker_. It was quite a recentventure; I believe it appeared about a dozen times--intermittently.Ostensibly it was a weekly, but in reality it was printed at those timeswhen your father's affliction sat least heavily upon him. He used tohire a compositor from Las Vegas to set the type,--a man named Potter--aworthless sort of fellow, but a genius in his way--when sober. I suspectthat much of the matter that went into the _Kicker_ emanated fromthe brain of Dave Potter."
Hollis's smile revealed just a trace of derision. "You don't happen toknow how father happened to think that a newspaper would pay--in thisplace?" he asked.
The judge looked at him meditatively, a gleam of quiet amusement in hiseyes. "I don't remember to have said that
the paper made any money foryour father," he returned slowly; "nor do I remember hearing your fathersay that he expected it to make any money. As I understand thesituation, your father founded the paper on principle. He expected touse it as a weapon."
"Please go on," urged Hollis. "That strikes me as a rather Quixoticproceeding."
"It was, rather," admitted the judge; "that is, it would seem Quixoticas viewed by an Eastern newspaper man. But out here people are apt toignore money and methods in considering results. After you have beenhere a while you will be able to see the force and truth of thatstatement. Your father was after results and he seized upon the idea offounding a newspaper as a means by which to obtain them. And I feelcertain that had he lived he would have succeeded."
"I plead ignorance," said Hollis, watching the judge closely. "Whatparticular result did my father desire?"
Judge Graney's eyes gleamed with earnestness. He leaned forward,speaking slowly and distinctly.
"I am going to illustrate my point by giving you a brief history of yourfather's experiences out here--as I had it from him. He came out hereabout fifteen years ago and took up a quarter-section of land over onRabbit-Ear Creek, the present site of the Circle Bar ranch. For quite afew years he was a nester--as the small owner is called in this country,but he was unmolested for the reason that there were few large owners inthe vicinity and each man was willing that his neighbor should succeed.Your father prospered and after a few years began to buy land. Hefinally acquired a thousand acres; he told me that at one time he hadabout five thousand head of cattle. Of course, these cattle could notlive on your father's thousand acres, but the ranges are free and thethousand acres answered very well as a headquarters.
"Eight years ago some men in Santa Fe organized what is known as theUnion County Cattlemen's Association. This company secured a section ofland adjoining your father's property, on the other side of Rabbit-EarCreek. The company called its ranch the Circle Cross. Perhaps it strikesyou as peculiar that the Association should have chosen a brand soclosely resembling your father's. I will digress long enough to explainthe action."
The judge drew out a pencil and picked up a piece of paper that lay nearhim on the desk, making some crude hieroglyphics and poising his pencilabove them.
"Here," he explained, indicating a sketch which he had drawn, "is theCircle Bar brand--a bar within a circle. And this--" indicating anothersketch, "--is the Circle Cross--a cross within a circle. It is of course,perfectly obvious that all the Circle Cross company had to do when itdesired to appropriate one of the Circle Bar cattle was to add avertical bar to the Circle Bar brand and the brand became the CircleCross. From a mechanical standpoint it was a very trifling operation,the manipulator of the brands having merely to apply the hot ironthrough a piece of wet blanket--that gives a new brand the appearance ofage.
"To get back to the main subject. The new company called its ranch theCircle Cross and it erected new buildings within a few miles of theCircle Bar buildings. Not long after the advent of the new company ittried to buy the Circle Bar, but your father refused to sell. BillDunlavey, the Circle Cross manager, attempted to negotiate the purchaseof the Circle Bar and when he was met with refusal hard words passedbetween him and your father. Not long after that your father began tomiss cattle--rustlers began a systematic attack upon his herds. Yourfather recognized this thievery as the work of the Cattlemen'sAssociation and he fought back.
"A number of times he changed his brands but each time the companycheckmated him. To illustrate: Your father changed his brand to appearthus:" The judge drew again on the paper. "That is the 'Wine-Glass'brand. You can see that it resembles a wine glass when held upvertically, though of course as it appeared on the Circle Bar cattle itlay on its side. But this move was futile, for among the Circle Crosscattle now appeared many branded with the sign of the 'Hour-Glass,'thus:" The judge drew again. "This was achieved by merely adding asemi-circle to the wine-glass, closing over the bowl."
"As I have said your father altered his brand a good many times. But theCircle Bar cattle continued to disappear. Years of warfare followed. TheCattlemen's Association lost no opportunity to harass your father or,for that matter, all the other small owners in the vicinity. Desperate,dissolute men were imported from Texas and Arizona, men who took delightin the shedding of human blood. These men roamed the ranges, stealingthe Circle Bar cattle and killing Circle Bar cowboys. Your father hadtrouble in keeping men; in order to surround himself with enough men toprotect his cattle and resist the aggressions of Dunlavey's hiredassassins he was forced to pay ruinous wages.
"Even then he could not prevent rustling. Dunlavey bribed his men; hisherds dwindled; he saw that he was facing ruin if he did not devise somemeans to successfully cope with his enemies. He went over to Santa Fe tosee the governor--a piffling carpet-bagger. He was told that thegovernment was powerless; that the same condition existed all over thecountry, and that the government was unable to combat it. The Law hadnot come.
"Your father returned home, discouraged but not beaten. He approachedthe several other small owners in the vicinity, asking for co-operationand assistance. Fearful of Dunlavey's wrath, the small owners refused toorganize. But your father decided to carry on the fight alone. Herecognized the fact that nothing but the Law could defeat theassociation's aims, and he determined to force the Law into theTerritory. With this end in view he established his newspaper. Hesucceeded in arousing public interest with the result that a court wasestablished here."
The judge smiled dryly, continuing: "Yes, the Law is here. Or what ismore to the point, a representative of the Law is here. 'I am the Law,'"he quoted, ironically. "But my hands are tied; this court is a meretravesty upon justice. The government at Washington has seen fit to sendme here--alone. I can't go out and get evidence; I couldn't secure aconviction if I did. The people here who are not Dunlavey's friends wereafraid of him. I can't get a jury. Dunlavey elects the sheriff--controlsthe election machinery. I am powerless--a mere figurehead. This is thesituation in a nutshell. I could go into detail, but I imagine it isplain enough as it is."
Hollis's face had become gravely serious; his lips were straightenedwith an expression that hinted at the conflict that was going on in hismind.
"Isn't there an army post near?" he questioned.
"Over at Fort Union--a hundred miles or so southwest. I have pleaded fora detail, but have been informed that it can't be had; that the soldiersare needed to keep the Indians in order. Independent cattlemen aresupposed to fight it out alone. At least that is the inference, if weare to consider the attitude of the government."
Hollis was gravely silent. The judge leaned back in his chair, watchinghim with a queer expression. He realized that he had said enough todiscourage the average young man from remaining in the country a momentlonger than was absolutely necessary. He would not have been surprisedhad Hollis told him that he did not intend to remain. But from what hehad seen of the young man he felt sure that his decision, when it didcome, would be final. More than once since Hollis had been in the officehad the judge observed the serene, steady gleam in his eyes, and he hadcatalogued him with the rare class of men whose mental balance is soperfect that nothing disturbs it. The judge had met a few such men inthe West and he knew the type. As he sat looking at the young man hedecided that Providence had made a mistake in allowing him to waste histime in the East. The West teemed with opportunities for men of hiskind.
He was not surprised at Hollis's next question; it showed that he wasconsidering the situation from many angles before committing himself.
"What is the condition of Circle Bar ranch at present?" he asked.
"The title to the land is intact and cannot be assailed. But Nortoninforms me that there are not above two hundred head of cattle on therange, and that the buildings are run down. Not a very cheerfulprospect?"
He had told the truth about the land and the cattle, but he hadpurposely exaggerated concerning the condition of the buildings, beinggrimly determined to place
the situation in its most unfavorable lightthat he might be the better able to test the young man's mettle. Hesmiled as Hollis thoughtfully stroked his chin.
"Well, now," admitted the latter, flashing a queer smile at the judge,"I quite agree with you that the prospect isn't cheering. But so long asthe condition is such as it is there is no need to grumble. I didn'tcome out here expecting to fall into a bed of roses."
"Then you won't be disappointed," returned the judge dryly. He filledand lighted a pipe, smoking meditatively, his eyes on the younger manwith a curious expression. He had determined to push the test a littlefarther.
"You could probably sell the Circle Bar," he said finally. "Your fathertold me before he died that he had been offered ten dollars an acre forhis land. That would total to a tidy sum."
Hollis looked quickly at the judge, his eyes flashing with grimamusement. "Would you advise me to sell?" he questioned.
The judge laughed quietly. "That is an unfair question," he equivocated,narrowing his eyes whimsically. "If I were heir to the property and feltthat I did not care to assume the danger of managing it I should sell,without doubt. If, on the other hand, I had decided to continue myfather's fight against an unscrupulous company, I would stay no matterwhat the consequences. But"--He puffed slowly at his pipe, his voicefilling with unmistakable sarcasm--"it would be so much easier to selland return at once to a more peaceful atmosphere. With ten thousanddollars you could go back East and go on with your newspaper work, wellequipped, with a chance of realizing your ambition--and not be troubledwith continuing a fight in which, no doubt, there would be many blows tobe taken."
"Thank you," returned Hollis quietly. He looked steadily into thejudge's eyes, his own glinting with a grim humor. "You have succeeded inmaking it very plain," he continued slowly. "But I am not going torun--I have decided on that. Of course I feel properly resentful overthe way my father has been treated by this man Dunlavey and hisassociation." His eyes flashed with a peculiar hardness. "And I wouldstay here and fight Dunlavey and his parcel of ruffians if for no otherreason than to secure revenge on personal grounds.
"But there is one other reason. There is a principle at stake. I don'tcare very much about the personal side of the question; little as I knewmy father, I believe he would have ignored personalities were heconfronted with the condition that confronts me. It is my belief that asan American citizen he chafed under conditions that prevented him fromenjoying that freedom to which we are all entitled under theConstitution. Judging from your conversation you are in entire sympathywith that sentiment." He smiled at the judge. "Of course I am notmistaken?" he added.
The tobacco in the bowl of the judge's pipe spluttered; he brought hisright fist heavily down upon the table, rattling the pens and inkbottles that littered its top. "No, young man; you are not mistaken--youhave hit the nail squarely on the head. If you are going to stay hereand fight Dunlavey and his crew, Blackstone Graney is with youuntil----"
"Until the Law comes," suggested Hollis.
"Yes, by thunder!" declared the judge. "You can go further than that andsay: 'until the Law rules!'"