't know you
then, but I know you now. You're Jim Hollis's boy."

Hollis nodded. Dunlavey continued evenly: "Your father and me wasn't
what you might call bosom friends. I reckon Judge Graney has told you
that--if he ain't you've heard it from some one else. It don't make any
difference. So there won't be any misunderstanding I'll tell you that I
ain't figgering on you and me hitching up to the mutual friendship wagon
either. I might say that we wasn't introduced right." He grinned evilly.
"But I ain't letting what happened interfere with the business that's
brought me here to-day. I've heard that you're intending to start the
_Kicker_ again; that you're figgering on staying here and running
the Circle Bar. What I'm here for is to buy you out. I'm offering you
fifteen thousand dollars for the Circle Bar and this damn newspaper."

Dunlavey had lost a little of the composure which had characterized his
actions since entering the office and the last words of his speech had
writhed venomously through his lips.

Hollis's face betrayed absolutely no emotion. Though Dunlavey's visit to
the _Kicker_ office had surprised him he was not surprised at his
offer for the ranch and the newspaper, for according to Judge Graney he
had made some such offer to the elder Hollis. Coming now, with an
addition of five thousand dollars, Dunlavey's offer seemed to advertise
his reluctance to continue the war that he had waged. Hollis appreciated
the situation. If Dunlavey were to buy him off now there would come an
end to the warfare that had already been an expensive one for the
interests represented by Dunlavey. Likewise, the acceptance of the offer
would give Hollis an opportunity to withdraw gracefully. Dunlavey had
placed the issue squarely before him. The young man held his future in
his hands and he did not reply at once.

He sat silent for a few moments, studying the coarse, brutal face of the
man seated before him, noting that his under jaw had come forward
slightly, and that the cold, hard glitter had come again in his eyes.
However, Hollis's silence meant nothing beyond the fact that he was
going slowly over the history of the fight between his father and the
man who sat there representing the interests which had begun the war. He
had no thought of surrendering--that would be dishonorable. He was
merely revolving the situation in his mind, considering how best to word
his refusal. He did not want to appear belligerent; he did not w