hair at his desk
and advanced to meet him, a hand outstretched.

"Hello, Lawler!" he said; "glad to see you. Where have you been keeping
yourself?"

Lawler shook the governor's hand, not replying to the effusive greeting.
Lawler smiled, though, and perhaps the governor saw in the smile an
answer to his question. He led Lawler to a chair, and returned to his
own, where he sat, leaning back, watching his visitor with a speculative
gaze.

Perry Haughton was a big, florid man with sleek, smooth manners, a bland
smile and an engaging eye, which held a deep gleam of insincerity. The
governor posed as a genial, generous, broad-minded public official--and
it had been upon that reputation that he had been nominated and
elected--but the geniality had been adopted for political reasons. The
real man was an arrogant autocrat, lusting for power and wealth.

He disliked Lawler--feared him. Also, since the convention he had felt
vindictive toward Lawler, for Lawler had offended him by his tenacious
championship of Falkner. He had almost lost the nomination through
Lawler's efforts.

"Been in town long?" he queried.

"Just long enough to have a talk with Hatfield."

The governor smiled wanly. "Hatfield has been having his troubles,
Lawler. An unprecedented situation has developed in the state. The
railroad company seems to be unable to supply cars for cattle shipments.
We have investigated, and so far we have been unable to discover whether
the shortage is intentional or accidental. Whatever the cause, it is a
bad situation--very bad. We've got to take some action!"

"Whatever action you take ought to be immediate, Governor," said Lawler.
"The round-up is over and cattle must move. That is why I am here--to
ask you what can be done."

"I have taken the matter up with the attorney-general, Lawler. The law
is vague and indefinite. We can't proceed under it. However, we are
going to pass new laws at the next session of the legislature."

"That will be in January," said Lawler. "Half the cattle in the state
will starve before that time."

The governor flushed. "That's the best we can do, Lawler."

"Why not call a special session, Governor?"

Haughton laughed. "Do you keep yourself informed, Lawler?" he said, a
suspicion of mockery in his voice. "If you do, you will remember that
the legislature has just adjourned, after acting upon some important
matters."

"This matter is important enough to demand another session immedi