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Hollis's gang were bragging even now that she'd trim anything that ever sailed the Lucy Foster, the Nannie O, the Colleen Bawn, and all the rest of them. And there were some old sharks, too, upon the docks who said they didn't know but she looked as if she could.
He vapored, and fretted, and fumed, and trotted up and down, and tried to make himself pleasing in Miss Hollis's big, quiet, gray eyes, and failed. It was one of the cases that you sometimes meet, even in this country where we marry by Code, of a really blind attachment all on one side, without the faintest possibility of return.
"Away to the east'ard, ain't it, Andie? the fellow with jibs down?" spoke up Billie Hurd, who was a bit proud that he too could pick her out at such a distance. "So it is, ain't it?" said Mel, and he began to tell our troubles in the dory. "'Twas him near ran over us last night remember, Joe? Leastways, it looked like Hollis's new one's quarter goin' by.
When she talked, a gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company, since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one eye-tooth of one color and the other of another. "Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No, don't put your hat there; I'll take it.
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."
I drew Hollis's attention to him, and asked, jocularly, if he had ever seen a more remarkable and striking countenance? He answered that it was one which, once seen, would not readily be forgotten. And he had not forgotten it once he saw the portrait at Markham's office he knew very well that it was extremely unlikely that so noticeable a man as Gabriel Chestermarke could have a double.
He tried to roll over and grasp the knife in its descent, but could not, his left arm, now useless, being pinned to the floor by Yuma's knee. A revolver roared spitefully once twice. Yuma's knife hissed past Hollis's ear and struck the floor, its point sunk deep, its handle swaying idly back and forth.
He looked searchingly at Hollis. "I've never seen you before," he said. "Who are you?" "I am Kent Hollis." The young man's eyes lighted. "Not Jim Hollis's son?" he asked. Hollis nodded. The young man's face revealed genuine pleasure. "You going to stay in this here country?" he asked. "I am going to run the Circle Bar," returned Hollis slowly. "Bully!" declared the young man.
He had left the office, perhaps not a friend, but at least a neutral, sympathetic onlooker, for according to Hollis's interpretation of his words at parting he would take no further part in Dunlavey's campaign at least he would do no more shooting.
"I take it you don't want to let them see you," he said. "When a thing like that comes off there's always somebody sure to be lookin' back." He was pulling at Hollis's arm, directing his steps down the slope toward where they had left the horses.
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