the
door-way. Norton drove the horses close to the building and brought them
to a halt with a sonorous "whoa"! Then he turned to Hollis and spoke
with a drawl: "This here building is the Circle Bar bunkhouse; them's
some of your men."

Hollis remarked the size of the building and Norton laughed grimly.
"There was a time when it wasn't any too big," he said. "Five years ago
your dad had twenty-seven men on the pay-roll. If Dunlavey an' his damn
association hadn't showed up he'd have had them yet." He turned toward
three men who were lounging in the doorway. "Hey, you guys!" he yelled;
"this here's your new boss. If you-all ain't glued there you might grab
his grips an' tote them up to the ranchhouse. Tell the missus that I'll
be along directly with the boss."

Amusement over the Southern twang that marked Norton's speech filled
Hollis. He had noticed it before and it had made plain to him the reason
of Norton's unhurried movements, his slow humor, his habit of quiet
scrutiny.

But he had little time for reflection. At Norton's words two men sprang
forward to the buckboard and he saw his suitcases disappear into the
darkness in the direction of a light that he now saw flickering from
some little distance. He jumped out of the buckboard and saw another man
spring to the horses' heads and lead them away into the darkness. Then
he followed Norton into the light from the open doorway. Presently he
was shaking hands with a man who stood there, whose chief articles of
raiment were overalls, boots, and a woolen shirt. Almost instantly, it
seemed, two of the others had returned and Norton was introducing them
as "Ace," "Lanky," and "Weary." These pseudonyms were picturesque and
descriptive, though at the time Hollis was in a state of pained
incomprehension concerning them. Later he was informed that Ace had been
so named on account of having once been caught slipping a playing card
of that character into his bootleg during a game of poker.
Incidentally--Hollis was told--gun-play had resulted. That Ace was still
active proved that the other man might have profited by keeping his
knowledge to himself. Obviously, Lanky deserved his appellation--he was
a trifle over six feet tall and proportioned like a young sapling. Weary
had been born tired--so Hollis was told by the latter's defamers;
defamers, for later Hollis discovered that no man in the outfit could
show more surprising agility on occasion than this same Weary.

Hollis f