door, to find a portly, bald-headed man sitting at a rough,
flat-top desk. The man was busy with a pencil and a pad of papers when
Lawler entered, and he continued to labor with them, not seeming to
notice his visitor.
Lawler halted just inside the door, to await the man's leisure. And then
he saw Gary Warden lounging in a chair in a far corner. Warden did not
appear to see Lawler, either; he was facing the back of the chair,
straddling it, his elbows crossed on the back, his chin resting on his
arms, his gaze on the rough board floor.
Lawler noted, his lips straightening a little, that in the movements of
the man at the desk was a deliberation that was almost extravagant. The
man was writing, and the pencil in his hand seemed to lag. He studied
long over what he wrote, pursing his lips and scratching his head. But
not once did he look up at Lawler.
"Wrestling with a mighty problem, Jordan?" finally asked Lawler, his
patience strained, his voice in a slow drawl.
The bald man started and glanced up. Instantly, he reddened and looked
down again, leaving Lawler to wonder how it was that every official with
whom he had conversed within the past few days had exhibited
embarrassment.
"Excuse me, Lawler," said Jordan; "I didn't know you was here. I'll be
with you in a second--just as soon as I check up this tally. Caldwell
drove in here not more'n two hours ago, an' I ain't got his tally
straightened up yet."
Lawler turned his back to Warden and gazed out through the open doorway.
On the siding was a long string of empty box cars, plainly awaiting
Caldwell's cattle.
After a glance at the cars, Lawler wheeled and faced Warden, who was
still gazing meditatively downward.
"I see that cars came quickly enough when you ordered them, Warden," he
said.
Warden raised his head slowly and gazed straight at Lawler, his eyes
gleaming challengingly.
"Yes," he said: "Simmons finally unearthed enough to take care of
Caldwell's cattle. There'll be more, as soon as Simmons can find them.
And he'll have to find them pretty soon or his company will face a
lawsuit. You see, Lawler, I ordered these cars months ago--got a written
contract with the railroad company for them. They've got to take care of
me."
"I reckon you knew they'd take care of you, Warden. You were as certain
of that as you were that they _wouldn't_ take care of any owner who
wouldn't sell to you."
"What do you mean, Lawler?" demanded Warden, his face
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