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"What was it you said to Warden one day, when Warden refused to keep that agreement you made with Lefingwell? Oh, don't look at me that way that conversation has been printed all over the state. I saw to that. How did I hear of it? Somebody must have talked, Lawler. It wasn't you. You remember what you told Warden?
On the floor in the smother of white was Link, and near him the handle of the axe stuck rigidly upward, its blade buried deeply in the floor. Della Wharton had been watching Lawler as he opened the door, and she had seen what quickly had followed. Now, though a nameless terror had seized her, she still watched, unable to withdraw her gaze, powerless to move or to open her lips.
He brought Lawler to a point near the fence where it crossed the gully at about the instant the two riders were dismounting some distance away. Lawler rode out of the gully and brought Red King to a halt. There was no danger that the two men would discover him, for all objects in the vicinity were rapidly being blotted out by the dancing smother of dust that was riding the north wind.
Lawler, watching the herd. "Eight thousand head," Lawler replied. "We're starting a thousand toward Willets today." "Have you seen Gary Warden? I mean, have you arranged with Warden to have him take the cattle?" Lawler smiled. "I had an agreement with Jim Lefingwell. We made it early last spring." "A written agreement?" "Shucks no. I never had a written agreement with Lefingwell. Never had to.
"Oh!" she sobbed. "It was Singleton's fault. He won't do it any more." There was no answer; a brooding silence came from beyond the door. Then Lawler said gently: "Ruth, I'm asking you again: Will you marry me?" "I'll never marry you, now, Kane never, never, never!" The sobs had ceased now; but the voice was choked with emotion. "All right, Ruth," said Lawler; "I'll ask you again, sometime.
As he spoke Lawler opened the hall door. They heard the latch go and the faint voice of somebody in colloquy with him. For the dogs were now abruptly silent, but displayed the most curious savage intentness, showing their teeth, and standing each by the door as if sentinels on guard. The colloquy ceasing, steps again sounded in the hall, but more than Lawler's.
But there had been something in Ruth Hamlin's clear, direct eyes that had convinced her of the futility of attempting to poison her mind against Lawler by referring to her stay in the line cabin with Lawler. She saw faith in Ruth's eyes complete, disconcerting; and it had made her feel inferior, unworthy, cheap, and inconsequential. On the fourth day Lawler regained consciousness.
A few minutes later, after having given his name to an attendant, he was standing in a big, well-lighted and luxuriously furnished room hat in hand, looking at a tall, slender man who was seated in a swivel chair at a big, flat-top desk. The man was older than Lawler, much older. The hair at his temples was almost white, but heavy and coarse.
"The people of this state trust you, Lawler they swear by you. You've got to run there's no way out of it!" He looked keenly at Lawler. "Man, do you know what McGregor told me the day before he left the capital to come down here and look you over, to see how badly you were hurt? He said: 'Metcalf, if Lawler dies we lose the governorship next fall. He is the only man who can beat Haughton!"
Lawler got up, lighted the kerosene lamp, placed it on the table, seated himself on a bench and again meditatively watched the leaping flames in the fireplace. Satisfaction glowed in his eyes as he thought of what would have happened had he not decided to substitute for Davies and Harris. Undoubtedly by this time the two men were on their way to the camp.
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