oor Watkins was sitting beside his desk, gravely
fumbling a deck of cards. He dropped them when he saw his visitors and
made a quick movement with his right hand toward his revolver. But
Allen's weapon was already out.

"Bill," he said in a soft, even voice, "we're wantin' a warrant for the
arrest of Bill Dunlavey. The charge is stealin' cattle. Of course you'll
issue it," he added insinuatingly.

Watkins's face slowly paled. "Why----" he began.

"Of course I knowed you wouldn't do it when I asked you," said Allen
with a dangerously soft smile. "That's why I come down here. This town's
got a sheriff an' it ain't. I wouldn't care a damn if it didn't have
you. There's lots of folks wouldn't care either. So that if you're one
of them which does care you're settin' right still an' not sayin'
anything which can be construed as talk till my friend here goes down to
the station." He whispered to Hollis. "Be middlin' rapid," he said aloud
afterward, "an' use my name." He turned to Watkins with a smile. "While
we're waitin' I'll do some talkin'," he said. "But if you let out one
little wee chirp them folks which don't care about you bein' sheriff of
this man's town will sure have a heap of cause to rejoice."

Hollis was already far down the street toward the station. When he got
there the station was dark--evidently the agent had gone to bed. Hollis
pounded heavily on the door and presently the agent opened it, appearing
in his night shirt, a heavy six-shooter in hand, his eyes blinking.

"My name is Hollis," said the latter from the darkness; "I want you to
telegraph the governor."

"Come in." The agent disappeared within, Hollis following. "This way,"
he directed, as he disappeared through another door leading into the
station, his night shirt flapping about his lean legs. "What you wantin'
to telegraph?" he questioned, as he seated himself before the instrument
and looked up at Hollis. And then, before the latter could answer he
continued: "You're the durndest man to stir up a muss I ever, seen in my
life!"

Hollis smiled grimly as he seized a blank and wrote his message to the
governor:

"Cattle thieves caught red-handed. Sheriff refuses to act.
Crisis. Suggest you appoint me temporarily.

BEN ALLEN"

The agent took the message, read it, and then monotonously began to drum
on the keys of his instrument.

Hollis found it impossible to sit still and so he