led."

Watkins's face bloated with a sudden anger, but he wheeled without
replying and gave his attention to some papers lying on the desk in
front of him.

For a long time the four sat in silence. Outside arose voices of
men--growing in volume. There was a jam around the door; looking out
Hollis could see the bronzed, grim faces of the punchers as they crowded
close, moved by a spirit of curiosity. Hollis could hear exclamations of
impatience, though the majority of the men outside stood in silence,
waiting.

Plainly, nothing was to be done until the arrival of Dunlavey. And
presently he came.

He had not been drinking; he was undeniably sober and self-possessed. As
he entered the door of the office there was a sudden surge on the part
of the crowd--several of the men tried to force their way in behind
Dunlavey. But he halted on the threshold, scowling back at them and
uttering the one word: "Wait!" The crowd fell back at the command and
watched.

Dunlavey stepped across the room, standing beside Watkins, his rapid
glance noting the presence of the three members of the opposition. He
ignored Hollis and Norton, speaking to Allen.

"So you're sure enough going to run?" he said.

"Sure," returned Allen. He rose slowly, stepped deliberately across the
room, closed the door, and stood with his back to it.

"We're all here now," he said quietly, "and I want to talk a little.
There ain't no one going to hear what I've got to say but them I'm going
to say it to. I reckon that goes?" He turned to Dunlavey.

Dunlavey had shown some evidence of surprise over Allen's action in
closing the door, but this immediately gave way to a sneer of mockery.
"I reckon you've forgot Greasy," he said.

"Why, I sure have!" returned Allen evenly. He opened the door a trifle
and called: "Greasy!"

Evidently Greasy had been waiting at the door, for he immediately came
in, slouching across the floor and standing beside Watkins and Dunlavey.
Allen closed the door and adjusted the fastenings carefully. Then he
turned again to Dunlavey.

"Now we'll proceed to do the talking," he said. He walked over to the
chair that he had previously vacated, dropping carelessly into it and
leaning comfortably back. His movements had been those of a man
unquestionably sure of peace. The expression of his eyes, the tones of
his voice, his deliberation hinted at a desire for a peaceful
compromise.

But once seated in his chair a startling change came o