sink-hole
of iniquity; to elect to carry on an unequal war with interests that
controlled the law machinery of the county and Territory--whose power
extended to Washington. No doubt the young man was even now brooding
over the future, planning his fight, pessimistically considering his
chances of success. Potter's sympathy grew. He thought of approaching
his chief with a word of encouragement. But while he hesitated, mentally
debating the propriety of such an action, Hollis turned quickly and
looked fairly at him, his forehead perplexed.

"Potter," he remarked, "I suppose there isn't a good brain specialist in
this section of the country?"

"Why--why----" began Potter. Then he stopped and looked at his chief in
wordless astonishment. His sympathy had been wasted.

"No," laughed Hollis, divining the cause of the compositor's
astonishment, "personally I have no use for a brain specialist. I was
thinking of some other person."

"Not me?" grinned Potter from behind his type case. He flushed a little
at the thought of how near he had come to offering encouragement to a
man who had not been in need of it, who, evidently, had not been
thinking of the big fight at all. "Perhaps I need one," he added, eyeing
Hollis whimsically; "a moment ago I thought you were in the dumps on
account of the situation here--you seemed rather disturbed. It surprised
me considerably to find that you had not been thinking of Dunlavey at
all."

"No," admitted Hollis gravely, "I was not thinking of Dunlavey. I was
wondering if something couldn't be done for Ed Hazelton."

"Something ought to be done for him," declared Potter earnestly. "I have
watched that young man closely and I am convinced that with proper care
and treatment he would recover fully. But I never heard of a specialist
in this section--none, in fact, nearer than Chicago. And I've forgotten
his name."

"It is Hammond," supplied Hollis. "I've been thinking of him. I knew his
son in college. I am going to write to him."

He turned to his desk and took up a pen, while Potter resumed his work
of distributing type.

About half an hour later Jiggs Lenehan strolled into the office wearing
a huge grin on his face. "'Pears like everybody in town wants to read
the _Kicker_ to-day," he said with a joyous cackle. "Never had so
much fun sellin' them. Gimme some more," he added breathlessly; "they's
a gang down to the station howlin' for them. Say," he yelled at Hollis
as he went out of