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 spacious grounds
around the building. His gaze seemed to follow the low stone fence with
its massive 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 shipment of
cattle. The bill you propose will conflict directly with the regulations
of Federal Interstate Commerce. It will be unconstitutional."
"We'll risk it," smiled Lawler. "The attorney-general is certain of the
constitutionality 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 régime 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 passes?"
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
passenger. 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.
After a little, when she had seated herself in the governor's chair,
from where she looked gayly at the big, smiling man who watched her, she
got up and Lawler led her to one of the great windows.
"Father is much better, Kane," she said. "In another week he will be
able to ride. Your mother sent you her love, and Shorty told me to tell
you to take care of yourself. Kane, Shorty actually loves you!"
"Shorty is a man, Ruth."
"Oh, he is wonderful!" And then, with a direct look at him, she added:
"Della Wharton has gone East, Kane."
Lawler's eyes narrowed; he was silent.
Ruth's voice was tremulous with happiness as she stood close to the man
she had come to marry on the morrow, in the big house which was awaiting
both of them--the governor's mansion. "Kane," she said; "I used to dream
of this day--tomorrow, I mean; but I never thought it would be like
this--so terribly, solemnly happy."
Lawler drew her closer to him--and nearer the window. "I wonder if you
know how lonesome I used to feel as I sat at my desk, there, trying to
look out over that great waste of world, stretching between us?"
"I know," she said, lowly; "I used to feel the same way. There was a
time--right after you went away to begin your campaign, when it seemed
to me that: you had gone to the farthest limits of the earth."
"And now?" he asked, smiling. And when she did not answer, he added;
"the world seems to have become very small."
"It is a wonderful world, Kane," she said solemnly.
For a time both were silent, gazing out of the window. In the foreground
were the bare trees of the capitol grounds; the white, curving walks,
the low stone fence with its massive posts; the broad streets of the
city animated by traffic; the roofs of buildings. But straight down a
street that intersected the broad thoroughfare skirting the capitol
grounds on the east, they could look beyond the limits of the city at
the mighty level country that stretched into the yawning gulf of
distance--toward Willets; straight to the section of world which had
been the scene of the conflict that had tried them sorely.
It was a bleak picture; the plains dead and drear, barren of verdure--a
dull, drab expanse of waste world with no life or movement in it,
stretching below gray, cold clouds.
But while they watched, a rift appeared in the clouds. It grew,
expanded, and a shaft of sunlight pierced it, shimmering,
glowing--touching the waste of world with a brilliance that thrilled
them.
It was evident that Ruth seemed to feel that the glimmering shaft was a
promise of happiness to come, for when Lawler turned, her eyes were
shining with a light that caused his own to deepen with sympathy and
understanding.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note: On page 275, "foolishing" changed to "foolishly".
(looking foolishly at Shorty)