They opened out to receive him, almost as if at a word of command. And
Buckskin Bill, with his head high and his blue eyes flaming, went
straight into them with the gait of a conqueror.
Suddenly, with a passionate gesture, he stopped, flinging up his empty
right hand. "Well, boys, well? What's the verdict? I'm in your hands."
And a great hoarse roar of enthusiasm went up as they closed around him
that was like the bursting asunder of mighty flood-gates. They surged
about him. They lifted him on their shoulders. They yelled like maniacs
and fired their revolvers in the air. It was the wildest outbreak that
Barren Valley had ever heard, and to the girl who watched it, it was the
most marvellous revelation of a man's magnetism that she had ever beheld.
Alone he had faced and conquered a multitude.
It pierced her strangely, that fierce enthusiasm, stirring her as
personal danger had failed to stir. She turned with the tears running
down her face and found Fletcher Hill standing unnoticed behind her,
silently looking on.
"Oh, isn't he great? Isn't he great?" she said.
He took her arm and led her within. His touch was kind, but wholly
without warmth. "There's not much doubt as to who is the boss of Barren
Valley," he said.
And with the words he smiled--a smile that was sadder than her tears.
CHAPTER XIII
THE OFFICIAL SEAL
That life could possibly return to a normal course after that amazing
night would have seemed to Dot preposterous but for the extremely
practical attitude adopted by Fletcher Hill.
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