The Trail Horde Part 46

Ruth saw Warden and Lawler fighting in a corner. Warden's back was against the wall, near the stove. He was facing the door. His lips were lacerated, drooling blood, his eyes were puffed and blackened, and he was screaming and cursing insanely.

As Ruth watched, her gaze taking in the wreck of the room--and Singleton picking up the pistol--she saw Lawler strike Warden--a full sweeping blow that sent forth a sodden deadening sound as it landed.

Warden sagged, his eyes closing as he slid to the floor and sat in the corner his legs doubled under him, his chin on his chest.

The scene had held only for an instant--merely while Ruth screamed. The sound had hardly died away when Singleton succeeded in grasping the pistol. Ruth tried to squeeze past Shorty, to prevent the tragedy that seemed imminent. But Shorty's quick, flas.h.i.+ng motion checked her--made interference by her unnecessary. There was a flash at Shorty's side, and the crash of his pistol rocked the air in the room and the hallway.

Singleton straightened, turned slowly, looked full at Shorty. Then without uttering a sound he pitched forward, almost at Lawler's feet.

The roar of the pistol brought Lawler around so that he faced the door.

He saw Shorty and Ruth and the others behind them, but gave no sign. His rage had left him; he seemed coldly deliberate. The only sign of pa.s.sion about him was in his eyes. They were narrowed, and pin points of fire appeared to flame in them. As though there were no witnesses to what he was doing, he stooped, lifted Warden and threw him over his shoulder.

The crowd gave way before him as he started for the stairs--even Ruth and Shorty stepping aside to let him pa.s.s. They watched him wonderingly as he carried his burden down the stairs and out into the street. And then as he walked they followed him.

He went straight across the street, past some low buildings, and over a vacant stretch between the buildings and the station. The crowd followed him--Ruth and Shorty closely, silently watching.

The special train in which he had come was still standing beside the station platform, the engine panting as though from its long run eastward. Ruth noted that the train crew was on the platform near the engine, interestedly watching the approach of Lawler carrying his burden.

Lawler walked to the rear end of the coach and threw Warden bodily upon it. Then he turned and motioned toward the conductor. The latter approached him warily, seeming doubtful of what might be in store for him from a man, who though governor--thus carried the body of a man on his shoulder. But he listened respectfully when he observed the clear sanity of Lawler's eyes.

"This man is leaving Willets--immediately!" said Lawler. "He's going East, to the end of this line--at my expense. When he regains consciousness you will tell him what I have said."

"It's Warden, ain't it?" grinned the conductor. "Well, I'll be glad to take him. But I'll have to wire for orders. This guy ain't a _bona fide_ pa.s.senger."

He strode to the telegraphers window. There was a short wait; and during the interval Warden stirred and sat up, swaying from side to side and staring about him in bewilderment. Lawler stepped forward, leaned over the platform.

"Warden," he said; "you are going East. You are not coming back. If you ever step a foot into this state again I will send you to prison for a term that will make you wish you were dead. I have a signed confession from Link and Givens that convicts you of a crime for which this state provides an adequate penalty. Do you understand?"

Warden nodded, wearily, and dropped his chin to his chest. After an interval, during which the crowd watched him intently, he staggered to his feet and reeled into the coach, and the crowd saw him no more. An instant later the conductor went toward the coach, grinning, signaling the engineer.

A low cheer rose from the crowd as the train started, and a man far back toward the station shouted, loudly:

"If they hadn't been in such a d.a.m.ned hurry, we'd have raised a collection to send him to h.e.l.l!"

A little later Lawler and Ruth and Shorty formed the van of the crowd that walked down the street toward the Wolf--where the Circle L men had left their horses. Ruth walked between Lawler and Shorty. Ruth was very pale, and her lips were trembling. In front of the Willets Hotel--in the flood of light that came through the windows, she clutched at Lawler's sleeve.

"Hurry, Kane," she begged; "they have killed daddy!"

"Don't you believe it, Miss Ruth," said Shorty, softly, into her ear.

"When I left Joe Hamlin he was a whole lot alive--an' gettin' more alive right along. I left Andy Miller with him--an' Andy's got more sabe of medicine than any doctor in these parts!"

"Shorty!" she breathed, springing around in front of him and catching him by the shoulders--standing on tip-toe to do it. "_Shorty_, you don't mean it?"

Shorty laughed lowly. "I'm reckonin' to mean it, Miss Ruth."

"But how," she questioned, her hands still on his shoulders, her eyes wide and questioning; "how did you happen to go to the Two Bar?"

"Well, you see, Miss Ruth," laughed the giant--while the crowd which had followed them stood off at a little distance and watched--"it was like this. Me an' the boys--an' your dad--had been tryin' for a long time to ketch Singleton runnin' an iron on the Circle L cattle. Your dad an' me had run a bunch into that gully near the Two Bar, an' tonight me an' the boys was waitin' in the gully for your dad to bring Singleton there.

Your dad had been brandin' stolen stock--at my orders--an' tonight he was goin' to refuse--makin' Singleton do it. For Singleton was really doin' the rustlin'. An' your dad----"

"Was doing it all for you? Is that what you mean, Shorty?"

"Why, I reckon, Miss Ruth. You see----"

Ruth had to leap upward to do it. But somehow the height was achieved.

Two arms went around Shorty's neck and Ruth's lips were pressed against his with a resounding smack.

"O Shorty!" she exclaimed as she hugged him tightly, after kissing him; "I just _love_ you!"

Shorty blushed furiously. As soon as Ruth released him he grinned with embarra.s.sment and walked with giant strides down the street to where he and his men had left the horses, the laughter and jibes of his fellows following him.

CHAPTER XLIII

THE MAJESTY OF PEACE

As upon another day that was vivid in his memory, Governor Lawler sat at his desk in his office in the capitol building. A big, keen-eyed man of imposing appearance was sitting at a little distance from Lawler, watching him. The big man was talking, but the governor seemed to be looking past him--at the bare trees that dotted the s.p.a.cious grounds around the building. His gaze seemed to follow the low stone fence with its ma.s.sive posts that seemed to hint of the majesty of the government Lawler served; it appeared that he was studying the bleak landscape, and that he was not interested in what the big man was saying.

But Lawler was not interested in the landscape. For many minutes, while listening to the big man--and answering him occasionally--he had been watching for a trim little figure that he knew would presently appear on one of the white walks leading to the great, wide steps that led to the entrance to the building. For he had heard the long-drawn plaint of a locomotive whistle some minutes before; he had seen the train itself come gliding over the mammoth plains that stretched eastward from the capitol; and he knew that Ruth would be on the train.

"The proposed bill is iniquitous," said the big man. "It is more than that, Governor Lawler; it is discrimination without justification. We really have made unusual efforts to provide cars for the s.h.i.+pment of cattle. The bill you propose will conflict directly with the regulations of Federal Interstate Commerce. It will be unconst.i.tutional."

"We'll risk it," smiled Lawler. "The attorney-general is certain of the const.i.tutionality of the bill."

"We'll never obey its provisions!" declared the big man, with some warmth.

Lawler looked at the other with a level gaze. "This is a cattle-raising state," he said. "The interests of the state's citizens are sacred to me. I intend to safeguard them. You run your railroad and I will run the state. Previous railroad commissioners have permitted the railroad companies to do largely as they pleased. We are going to have some regulation--regulation that will regulate.

"The proposed bill may seem drastic to you," he added as he leaned forward the better to look out of the window he had looked out of before--to see the trim little figure he had expected coming up one of the white walks; "but if you fight it, we shall introduce others. The people of this state are pretty well worked up, and are demanding legislation that will curb the power of the railroads--that will make impossible a situation such as existed under the regime of my predecessor. What would you say to a law that would compel you to construct grade crossings at every street intersection along the right-of-way in every city and town in the state through which your railroad pa.s.ses?"

The big man's color fled; he stared at Lawler.

"Also," went on Lawler; "there is an insistent demand for electrification of railroads, especially from city governments. Then, too, there is some agitation regarding rates--both freight and pa.s.senger. But I want to be fair--to go at these improvements gradually.

Still, if your company insists on fighting the bill which is now pending--" He paused and looked at the big man.

The latter got up, smiling faintly.

"All right, Governor; we'll be good. I never really favored that deal--which almost set the state afire--and made you governor. But my directors----"

"They'll be sensible, now, I hope?"

The big man grimaced. "They'll have to be sensible." He extended a hand, and Lawler took it.

The big man went out. As the door closed behind him Lawler got up and walked to it, standing there, expectantly. The door suddenly opened and Ruth stood in the opening.

It was her first visit to the office, and the atmosphere of solemn dignity almost awed her.