AFTER THE STORM
Hollis's tall figure lay pitifully slack on a bed in the Hazelton cabin.
Nellie Hazelton had given him what care she could out of her limited
knowledge and now nothing more could be done until the arrival of the
Cimarron doctor. Swathed in bandages, his clothing torn and soiled--as
though after beating him his assailants had dragged him through the
mud--one hand queerly twisted, his face swollen, his whole great body
looking as though it had received the maximum of injury, Hollis moved
restlessly on the bed, his head rolling oddly from side to side,
incoherent words issuing from between his bruised and swollen lips.
Norton stood beside the bed, looking down at the injured man with a
grim, savage pity.
"The damned cowards!" he said, his voice quivering. "There must have
been a dozen of them--to do him up like that!"
"Seven," returned Ed Hazelton grimly. "They left their trail there; I
counted the hoof prints, an' they led down the slope toward Big Elk
crossin'." He looked at Norton with a frown. "We can't do anything
here," he said shortly, "until the doctor comes. I'll take you down
where I found him."
They went out and mounted their ponies. Down the trail a mile or so they
came to a level that led away toward Rabbit-Ear Creek. From the level
they could see the Circle Cross buildings, scattered over a small
stretch of plain on the opposite side of the river. There was no life
around them, no movement. Norton grimaced toward them.
Hazelton halted his pony in some tall grass near a bare, sandy spot on
the plains. The grass here grew only in patches and Norton could plainly
see a number of hoof prints in the sand. One single set led away across
the plains toward the Dry Bottom trail. Seeing the knowing expression in
Norton's eyes, Hazelton spoke quietly.
"That's Hollis's trail. He must have took the Dry Bottom trail an' lost
it in the storm. Potter says he would probably take it because it's
shorter. Anyways, it's his trail; I followed it back into the hills
until I was sure. I saw that he had been comin' from Dry Bottom. He lost
his way an' rode over here. I remember there was an awful darkness, for
I was out scoutin' around to see if my stock was all right. Well, he got
this far--rode right up to the edge of the butte over there an' then
come back this way. Then he met--well, the men that did it."
"They all stood there for a little while; you can see where their horses
pawed. Then mebbe they started somethin', for you can see where Hollis's
pony throwed up a lot of sand, tryin' to break out. The others were in a
circle--you can see that. I've figured it out that Hollis saw there
wasn't any chance for him against so many an' he tried to hit the breeze
away from here. I'll show you."
They followed the hoof prints down the slope and saw that all the riders
must have been traveling fast at this point, for the earth was cut and
the hoof prints bunched fore and aft. They ran only a little way,
however. About a hundred yards down the slope, in a stretch of bare,
sandy soil, the horses had evidently come to a halt again, for they were
bunched well together and there were many of them, showing that there
had been some movement after the halt.
Norton dismounted and examined the surrounding soil.
"They all got off here," he said shortly, after the examination;
"there's the prints of their boots. They caught him here and handed it
to him."
Hazelton silently pointed to a queer track in the sand--a shallow groove
running about fifty feet, looking as though some heavy object had been
drawn over it. Norton's face whitened.
"Drug him!" he said grimly, his lips in two straight lines. "It's likely
they roped him!" He remounted his pony and sat in the saddle, watching
Hazelton as the latter continued his examination. "They're a fine, nervy
bunch!" he sneered as Hazelton also climbed into his saddle. "They must
have piled onto him like a pack of wolves. If they'd have come one at a
time he'd have cleaned them up proper!"
They rode away down the trail toward the cabin. Norton went in and
looked again at Hollis, and then, telling Hazelton that he would return
in the afternoon, he departed for the Circle Bar. He stopped at the
ranchhouse and communicated the news to his wife and Potter and then
rode on up the river to a point about ten miles from the
ranchhouse--where the outfit was working.
The men received his news with expressions of rage and vengeance. They
had come to admire Hollis for his courage in electing to continue the
fight against Dunlavey; they had seen that in spite of his ignorance of
the customs of their world he possessed a goodly store of common sense
and an indomitable spirit. Yet none of them expressed sympathy, though
their faces showed that they felt it. Expressions of sympathy in a case
such as this would have been unnecessary and futile. But their
expressions of rage showed how the news had affected them. Though they
knew that Dunlavey's forces outnumbered their own they were for striking
back immediately. But Norton discouraged this.
"We're layin' low for a while," he said. "Mebbe the boss will get well.
If he does he'll make things mighty interestin' for Dunlavey--likely
he'll remember who was in the crowd which beat him up. If he dies----"
His eyes flashed savagely. "Well, if he dies you boys can go as far as
you like an' I'll go with you without doin' any kickin'."
"What's goin' to be done with that noospaper of his'n?" inquired Ace.
"You reckon she'll miss fire till he's well again?"
Norton's brows wrinkled; he had not thought of the newspaper. But he
realized now that if the paper failed to appear on scheduled time the
people in Union County would think that Hollis had surrendered; they
would refuse to believe that he had been so badly injured that he could
not issue the paper, and Dunlavey would be careful to circulate some
sort of a story to encourage this view. Now that Ace had brought the
matter to his attention he began to suspect that this had been the
reason of the attack on Hollis. That they had not killed him when they
had the opportunity, showed that they must have had some purpose other
than that of merely desiring to get him out of the way. That they had
merely beaten him showed that their wish was only to incapacitate him
temporarily. Norton's eyes flashed with a sudden determination.
"I don't reckon that the _Kicker_ will miss fire," he declared;
"not if I have to go to Dry Bottom an' get her out myself!"
Ace eyed him furtively and now spoke with an embarrassed
self-consciousness.
"I've been considerin' this here situation ever since you told us about
the boss," he said diffidently, "an' if you're goin' to get that paper
out, a little poem or two might help out considerable."
"Meanin'?" interrogated Norton, his eyelashes flickering.
Ace's face reddened painfully. "Meanin' that I've got several little
pieces which I've wrote when I didn't have anything else to do an' that
I'd be right willin' to have them put into the _Kicker_ to help
fill her up. Some of the boys think they're right classy."
Norton looked around at the other men for confirmation of the truth of
this modest statement. He caught Lanky's glance.
"I reckon that's about right," said that sober-faced puncher; "Ace is
the pote lariat of this here outfit, an' he sure has got a lot of right
clever lines in his pomes. I've read them which wasn't one-two-three
with his'n."
Norton smiled, a little cynically. He wasn't quite sure about it, he
said, but if Ace could write poetry he hadn't any doubt that during the
next few weeks there would be plenty of opportunity to print some of it
in the Kicker. He smiled when he saw Ace's face brighten. But he told
him he would have to see Hollis--if the latter got well enough to endure
an interview. If the boss recovered enough to be able to look at Ace's
poetry before it was printed, why of course it would have to be shown
him. He didn't want anything to go into the _Kicker_ which the boss
wouldn't like. But if he wasn't able to look at it, why he would leave
the decision to Potter, and if it suited the latter he would be
satisfied. He would keep the boys posted on the boss's condition. Then
he rode away toward the ranchhouse.
Late in the afternoon he again visited the Hazelton cabin. He found the
Cimarron doctor already there. Hollis was still unconscious, though
resting easier. The doctor declared that he would remain with him
throughout the night. He followed Norton out on to the porch and told
him that at present he could not tell just how serious Hollis's injuries
were. There was a great wound in his head which he feared might turn out
seriously, but if not, Hollis would recover quickly and be as good as
ever within a few weeks--except for his left wrist--which was broken. He
praised Nellie Hazelton for the care she was giving the injured man.
Convinced that there was nothing more to be done, Norton returned to the
Circle Bar to give his attention to his work.