" returned Hollis. "Several
of my men discovered him at work the day before yesterday and----"

"Hold on a minute now!" interrupted the sheriff. "Let's git this thing
goin' accordin' to the law." He spat again into the wooden box, cocked
his head sideways and surveyed Hollis with a glance in which there was
much insolence and contempt. "Who might you be?" he questioned.

"My name is Hollis," returned the latter quietly, his eyes meeting the
other's steadily. "I own the Circle Bar."

"H'm!" The sheriff crossed his legs and stuck his thumbs into the
arm-holes of his vest, revealing a nickle-plated star on the lapel of
the latter. "H'm. Your name's Hollis, an' you own the Circle Bar. Seems
I've heard of you." He squinted his eyes at Hollis. "You're Jim Hollis's
boy, ain't you?" His eyes flashed with a sudden, contemptuous light.
"Tenderfoot, ain't you? Come out here to try an' show folks how to run
things?"

Hollis's face slowly paled. He saw Greasy grinning. "I suppose it makes
little difference to you what I am or what I came out here for," he said
quietly; "though, if I were to be required to give an opinion I should
say that there is room for improvement in this county in the matter of
applying its laws."

The sheriff laughed harshly. "You'll know more about this country after
you've been here a while," he sneered.

"Mebbe he'll know more about how to run a law shebang, too," dryly
observed Norton, "after he's watched Bill Watkins run her a little."

"I don't reckon anyone ast you to stick your gab in this here affair?"
demanded the sheriff of Norton.

"No," returned Norton, drawling, "no one asked me. But while we're
handin' out compliments we might as well all have a hand in it. It
strikes me that when a man's runnin' a law shop he ought to run her."

"I reckon I'll run her without any help from you, Norton!" snapped the
sheriff.

"Why, sure!" agreed the latter, his gaze level as his eyes met the
sheriff's, his voice even and sarcastic. "But I'm tellin' you that this
man's my friend an' if there's any more of them compliments goin' to be
handed around I'm warnin' you that you want to hand them out soft an'
gentle like. That's all. I reckon we c'n now proceed."

The sheriff's face bloated poisonously. He flashed a malignant glance at
Hollis. "Well," he snapped, "what's the charge?"

"I have already told you," returned Hollis. "It is stealing cattle."

"How stealin' them?" demanded the Sheriff truculenty