ces.

The information acted upon Norton like an electric shock. He was on his
feet before Potter had finished speaking, grasping him by the shoulders
and shaking him roughly.

"Why didn't you say something before?" he demanded. "Why did you leave
him? Wasn't there somebody in Dry Bottom that you could have sent out
here to tell me?" He cursed harshly. "Ten Spot's got him!" he declared
sharply, his eyes glittering savagely. "He'd have been here by this
time!" He was taking a hitch in his cartridge belt while talking, and
before concluding he was down off the gallery floor and striding toward
the corral.

"Tell my wife that I've gone to Dry Bottom," he called back to Potter.
"Important business! I'll be back shortly after midnight!"

Leaving Potter on the porch staring after him he ran to the corral,
roped his pony, threw on a saddle and bridle and mounted with the animal
on a run.

The stars were shining brilliantly now and from the porch Potter could
see Norton racing down the Dry Bottom trail with his pony in a furious
gallop. For a time Potter watched him, then he disappeared and Potter
went into the house to communicate his message to his wife.

The rain had been heavy while it lasted, but by the time Norton had
begun his race to Dry Bottom very little evidence of it remained and the
pony's flying hoofs found the sand of the trail almost as dry and hard
as before the storm. Indeed, there was now little evidence that there
had been a storm at all.

Norton spared the pony only on the rises and in something over an hour
after the time he had left the Circle Bar he drew up in front of the
_Kicker_ office in Dry Bottom, dismounted, and bounded to the door.
It was locked. He placed a shoulder against it and crashed it in,
springing inside and lighting a match. He smiled grimly when he saw no
signs of Hollis; when he saw that the interior was in an orderly
condition and that there were no signs of a conflict. If Ten Spot had
killed Hollis he had done the deed outside the _Kicker_ office.

Norton came out again, pulling the wreck of the door after him and
closing it as well as he could. Then, leaving his pony, he strode toward
the Fashion saloon. As he came near he heard sounds of revelry issuing
from the open door and he smiled coldly. A flashing glance through the
window showed him that Ten Spot was there, standing at the bar. In the
next instant Norton was inside, confronting Ten Spot, his big
six-shooter out an